Rebirth: Flirting with a Dangerous Billionaire

I remember the sensation of falling. My arms are entirely out of control, reaching for salvation that would never come. I hurtled downwards before I hit the concrete with a heavy thud. That's when it all went black. Briefly, my next memory was gargling for air, a burning in my lungs, spreading through my chest. Pain so severe I thought my heart had stopped. Then, finally, I remember the sharp taste of the hot thick vomit choking me. I found out later that the official term is pulmonary aspiration. I could see him staring down at me with a maniacal look, amusement in his eyes...and shock. The shock that I was still clinging to life despite the pool of blood around me, despite choking on my own bile, despite everything he had done to me. This was the moment everything changed. Before this moment, I had wasted my life. My life had never been of much worth. My mother was an alcoholic who spent every night in another man's bed plying her trade and eventually not coming home. My father was one of her many clients, and I... was simply a burden. Understandably I never really valued my existence until he tried to take it away. Exciting right? Have I got you hooked? Humans are drawn to the macabre. People like to hear stories of hero's who defy the odds. This isn't one of those stories, but I'm getting ahead of myself. One thing I want people to understand is that my life wasn't all s**t. I have no fond memories of the woman who gave birth to me, but she died before I had the chance to know her. Know her as a woman and not as a mommy. Regardless, after her death, my life got better. This was due to a soft, kind woman who materialized when I needed her. My grandma was happy to take me in despite being estranged from her daughter and not even knowing I existed. We were happy together, but she was old, and she died not long after my 16th birthday. I dropped out of school to cover debts; it's so expensive to keep yourself alive. Before long, I was self-medicating, left to my own devices. I was turning into my mother. Anyway, that is how I ended up drunk, in a bar full of self-loathing. Waiting on a friend who hadn't shown up. This is where the actual story starts, or at least the part you care about. Around me, the bar was crowded, the type of crowded that makes everything loud, hot, and sticky. Occasionally the door would open and breathe cool fruity air into the once run-down establishment. Gentrification was an epidemic. It spread quickly through the local area and brought new clientele with it. The type that vaped and bought expensive drinks I couldn't afford. What I like about this place because underneath the contemporary decor. Despite the drink's menu and the ban on smoking, you could still smell the faint smell of stale alcohol and cigarettes that clung to the air. It made me feel like there might have been a place for people like me once. A place for people who had to drink swill just to endure. I was alone at the bar, yet surrounded by people. The majority of them seemed to be having fun, rather than just drinking themselves into oblivion like I was. Today I lost my job, or rather one of them. The details aren't necessary. What's important is that I'm stuck in a cycle. I have to work because I've inherited debt. I can't pay my debt because I need to buy food and other necessities. I have no formal qualifications, so I'm not a high earner and have no prospects. An earlier, idyllic version of myself once had big plans, but they have dissolved with my liver over time. The night was the same as any other, bleak. The last thing I remember is jealousy, which rots you from inside. Jealousy that those around me had the luxury of going to school- had the luxury of wealth. Hell, the couple next to me were arguing about their life in a prestigious university that only the extremely wealthy could attend! Why were they even in this shithole to begin with? If I had their resources, I could be a graphic designer by now. I might have a boyfriend or might have started a family. That sharp pang of anger had the power to cut through my drunken haze, but after that, everything faded to black. That's all I could remember for the longest time. When I woke up... let's just say I wasn't myself.