Boss Lady and Her Billionaire Knight

Life had been good. Too good until those f*ckers ruined everything. Denise clenched her fists as the thought crossed her mind, her nails digging into her palm. One day… one day she would make them bow at her feet. It didn’t matter how long it would take. She would rise. And when she did, she would make sure they remembered exactly what they did to her. She stretched her stiff body, wincing as her bones cracked painfully. “Ugh…” she groaned under her breath. Her fingers reached for the small watch lying beside her, a watch without a strap, its surface slightly scratched. She squinted at it. Five in the morning. Too early. She wanted to sleep a little more. Her body screamed for it but her stomach twisted violently in protest. She was Hungry. That was what had woken her up. Denise pressed her hand against her abdomen, swallowing hard. It had been over twenty-four hours since she last ate. Maybe more. She had lost count. “Not sick,” she muttered to herself. “Just hungry.” A humorless chuckle escaped her lips. She didn’t regret leaving that place, though. Never. Here, in the Sava slums, she had nothing. But at least she had peace. And peace was something that house had never given her. Slowly, she pushed herself up from the thin mat that served as her bed. The cold air hit her instantly, making her shiver. “Damn…” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. She stepped outside and hurried towards the shared latrine. The ground was cold beneath her feet, and the early morning air bit into her skin. The latrine… calling it that was generous, was a small, filthy shack shared by over a hundred people. Hygiene didn’t exist here. It couldn’t. Not with numbers like that even if they tried. Not everybody was a clean freak like her. Denise held her breath as she rushed in and out, finishing quickly before practically running back to her shack. At least inside was warmer inside. She leaned against the door for a moment before her eyes scanned the tiny room. Six by eight feet. That was her entire world. A mat in one corner. No blanket, just an old bedsheet and bundled clothes. A small paraffin stove. Two plastic plates. Two small pans. One basin. That was everything she owned. Her gaze shifted to the corner where she kept her “food.” A pinch of salt and nothing else. For a second, she just stared… then laughed softly. “From grace to grass,” she murmured. Or maybe… maybe this was the greener grass because back there? That place she once called home? That was hell. Her chest tightened. By now, the servants in that house would be busy preparing a luxurious breakfast for her father… her mother… her siblings. A tear slipped down her cheek before she even realized it. “How ironic,” she whispered. The legitimate daughter… living like this while servants lived better than her. Denise wiped her face quickly, straightening. “No,” she said firmly. “No more crying.” Crying wouldn’t change anything. Work would. She changed into the only decent dress she had, pulled on a hoodie, and locked her door carefully with her small padlock. She could leave it unlocked but she wouldn’t because even the little she had… mattered. Her academic certificates were inside. Her future and one day, she would go back to school. One day, she would rise and when that day came… everyone who laughed at her would regret it. She stepped out into the waking slum. Despite everything, Denise was… beautiful and strikingly so even though she herself didn't seem to notice it. Red hair. Smooth skin like porcelain. A rare gap between her front teeth. Sharp, balanced features and the eyes… eyes that could see right through you. Her smile alone could rival the sun but she didn’t know it. She believed everyone was beautiful. She had no idea that in this world… beauty was power and she had plenty of it. Soon, she arrived at the usual spot. A group of women and girls had already gathered, chatting and laughing as they waited. Every morning, they came here waiting to be chosen. Chosen by rich women who needed temporary workers. One day’s work? Five hundred Xela coins. It wasn’t much… but it was survival. Denise calculated quickly in her head. Sugar. Tea leaves. Vegetables. Rice. Paraffin. If she got work today, she could survive the week then worry about rent later. >One thousand coins. Her chest tightened. Denise Ashford. That was her name and she had never imagined her life would turn out like this. “De-nice!” She turned at that. A little girl came running toward her, slightly out of breath. “Mama is asking if you will work at the hotel today! One of her workers is sick!” Denise froze. “…What?” “Will you come?” The girl asked again eagerly. For a second, Denise just stared then she smiled. A real smile. A hotel meant free food for the day and the pay would be better. “I’ll come.” She didn’t even care that the girl mispronounced her name. Behind her, she could hear whispers of jealousy and envy but she didn’t care because today… today, luck had finally found her. That day, Denise worked harder than she ever had but she didn’t feel tired. Not when she was paid one thousand coins. Not when she was given food. Food. Real food. By the time she returned to her shack that evening, her body was exhausted but her heart was full. Tomorrow, she would work again and that meant more money. More food. A chance to survive and most importantly, a chance to avoid him. The caretaker. Her smile faded slightly. She still remembered her first month here… The pounding on her door, her inability to pay, the extra lock on her door, two nights on the pavement where she was cold, hungry and humiliated. Denise clenched her jaw. “Never again,” she whispered. That night, she lay on her mat, staring at the ceiling and for the first time in a long while… she smiled. Tomorrow would be better. It had to be.