Chapter 4
I strode toward the dining room door.
The crystal chandelier behind me blazed with blinding light.
I pushed the door open and walked straight into the night, not looking back.
*****
The night breeze slipped in through the gap in the window.
It carried the familiar stink of a rundown neighborhood: sewage and damp concrete.
I unfolded my chair and sat down at my desk.
On the desk were a few part-time job flyers and my ledger.
I picked up my pen and started tallying up next month's expenses.
Rent, utilities, and the bus ticket to my college down south.
After setting aside the money I promised to return to Eric, I had less than seven hundred dollars left in my account.
I'd have to pick up a few more early shifts at the café on weekends.
My phone suddenly buzzed on the desk.
The screen lit up.
Eric.
I stared at his name on the screen.
Back then, I would've picked up without a second thought. But now, all that bright light did was make my eyes ache.
The buzzing echoed in the cramped room, making the silence feel even more suffocating.
I took a deep breath and swiped to answer.
On the other end, there was the heavy bass thumping and the noisy clink of glasses.
It was the unmistakable background of the VIP suite upstairs at Azure Lounge.
"Where are you? " Eric's voice cut in, sharp and direct.
He didn't wait for my answer, just gave an order.
"Be in the V8 suite on the top floor of Azure Lounge in half an hour, " Eric ordered.
My hand paused on the pen.
"I already said everything I needed to at dinner, " I told him.
"Stop making a scene, " Eric cut me off, sounding impatient.
"Mya got into it with Mr. Warren from Prime Capital at the party, she threw a glass of wine right in his face. Mr. Warren's not exactly the forgiving type, and now he's making a scene about pulling his investment, " Eric said.
He paused for a beat, his tone turning cold.
"Get over here now, apologize to Mr. Warren, and say it was you who threw the wine, " he ordered.
In the cramped, stuffy room, the only sound was the creaking of the old fan.
I held my phone, my fingers icy.
"So I'm supposed to take the blame for Mya's mess? " I asked.
"Mr. Warren doesn't know Mya, and he has no idea she's from the Clark family, " Eric said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
"You've been around the Clark family for years. Why can't you step in for her on this little matter? " he asked.
Just a trivial matter, huh?
He wanted me to be the scapegoat in front of everyone, to take the investor's rage and humiliation meant for the real heiress.
He'd rather let me face that brute than let Mya suffer.
To him, it was nothing but a minor inconvenience.
"Once things settle down, I'll have the finance team send you some compensation, " Eric said.
He dangled the usual carrot.
"That internship you want next semester? I'll make it happen for you myself. Weren't you making a fuss at dinner about returning the living expenses? Handle this, and you can ask for whatever you want, money, resources, you name it, " he went on.
His tone was so condescending, like he was throwing me a bone.
I gripped my pen so hard my knuckles turned white.
For the past ten years, I'd been living off whatever scraps he tossed my way, always expected to be grateful for it.
"Why should I take the fall for her? " I asked.
There was a heavy silence on the other end for a few seconds.
The background noise seemed to vanish, like he'd forced the whole room to go quiet.
"Charlotte, do you even know what you're saying? " Eric's voice was icy.
His tone dropped, dangerously low.
"This is a PR crisis, not the time for you to act out. Mya is the company's future, her image has to stay spotless, " Eric snapped.
"Mr. Warren's drunk and impossible to deal with. Mya would make things worse, " he said.
"You've been by my side long enough to know how these things work. You know how to take the blame and smooth things over, " he continued.
You know how to play your part.