Chapter 2
Francis's gaze went from stunned to quietly assessing, watching me with a new intensity.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"I'm sure. No doubt about it!" I replied, my voice firm and unwavering.
To show I meant it, I reached out my hand. "Pleasure working with you, Mr. Russell."
Francis stared at me in silence for a few seconds before finally reaching out and shaking my hand.
His palm was dry and warm, but the handshake was quick, just a fleeting touch.
"Alright," he said.
He stood up, looking down at me from above.
He said, "Meet me at city hall at nine tomorrow morning.
"Bring your ID.
"And don't be late."
Then he turned and walked away without a second glance.
I watched his tall, commanding presence as he walked away, feeling so happy I could've danced right there.
Freedom.
Money.
Finally, my tough days were over.
I hummed a little tune as I walked home.
My so-called home was a tiny 600 square feet apartment my parents rented, with just two bedrooms and a living room.
I had one bedroom, and my brother, Ivan, had the other.
My parents just laid out a mattress on the living room floor to sleep.
As soon as I opened the door, three pairs of eyes snapped to me in perfect sync.
My mom, my dad, and my 24-year-old brother, who was still jobless and lounging around.
The three of them sat on the couch, looking like judges about to put me on trial.
Ivan was the first to jump up, his eyes shining with greed. "Edith, how'd it go?
"Did that pilot like you? Is he loaded?"
My mom leaned in, eyes full of hope, rubbing her hands together.
She said, "Edith, did that dress I bought you pay off? Did you sort it out? Is he going to get you a gift?"
My dad didn't say a word, just chain-smoking with his brows tightly furrowed.
I knew exactly what he was thinking.
He was wondering if he could get a new car out of Francis.
This was my family.
They were always figuring out how to squeeze every last bit of value out of me.
I used to feel coldness in my heart because of it.
But today, I only found it ridiculous.
I slipped off my heels, walked over to the couch, and grabbed myself a glass of water.
"It's a done deal," I said.
"What?" Ivan's eyes lit up instantly.
He said, "I always knew you had what it takes, Edith!"
He excitedly wrapped his arm around my mom's shoulders. "Mom, I'm finally getting my new car. That BMW is mine!"
My mom was grinning from ear to ear.
She said, "I always knew Edith was the most thoughtful daughter.
"How much is he going to give you for the wedding? Will it be enough to buy Ivan a new apartment?"
I took a sip of water, the cold liquid sliding down my throat, making me even more clear-headed.
I looked at their gloating faces.
"His family isn't paying for the wedding," I said flatly.
The whole room froze.
Ivan's grin stiffened. "Edith, is this some kind of joke?"
My mom's face darkened. "Edith, what do you mean? He won't even pay for the wedding? Do you think we're selling our daughter off?"
I nearly laughed out loud right then and there.
If this wasn't selling your daughter, then what was?
"He said after we're married, he'll give me his salary card," I replied.
As soon as I said that, Ivan's eyes lit up again.
He said, "He's giving you his salary card? That's basically the same thing. He makes over 1 million dollars a year, so that's 100 thousand dollars a month.
"Mom, that's more than enough. Forget an apartment, we could even get a villa!"
My mom's face instantly brightened, her mind already racing with calculations.
She said, "Exactly, the salary card is just as good. Edith, you better hold onto that card tight. Your brother's counting on that money."
I set down my glass and looked at my so-called brother.
"Ivan," I said.
"Yeah? What's up?" he replied.
I said, "You're twenty-four years old, not a toddler.
"You're a grown man, with two good hands and feet. Go get a job.
"If you want a car or a house, earn it yourself.
"I'm your sister, not your mother. It's not my job to take care of you for life."
My voice wasn't loud, but every word hit like a hammer in the silent living room.
Ivan's grin was wiped right off his face.
He stared at me, like I was a total stranger.
"Edith, what are you talking about?" he muttered.
My mom was the first to react, smacking her hand down on the table.
She snapped, "Edith! Are you insane? How could you talk to Ivan that way?
"He's your real brother. If you won't help him, who will?
"We struggled all these years to raise you, and is this how you pay us back? You ungrateful brat."
The same old accusations, the same old emotional blackmail.
Back then, I might've cried, might've given in.
But not today.
From the moment I agreed to marry Francis, I made up my mind to leave my old life behind for good.
I said, "Isn't everything I've done for you already more than enough?"
I looked up, locking eyes with my mom, cold as ice.
I continued, "Since I was eighteen, how many jobs have I worked? Every cent I earned, except for the bare minimum to survive, ended up in your pockets.
"Ivan's tuition, his living expenses, his phone, his computer. Every single thing, I paid for it.
"Three years ago, when Dad blew 70 thousand dollars into the stock market, who stayed up for three months straight, juggling side gigs, just to patch up that mess?
"All you care about is me marrying some rich guy, but did you ever stop to see that I'm already drained dry for this family?"
My mom was left speechless, her face going from pale to red, totally stunned.
Ivan's face flushed red as he snapped back at me.
He said, "So what! You're my sister; I'm your brother. You're supposed to help me, aren't you?"
"Supposed to?" I asked.
I laughed.