Rock Bottom
742 Words
My wrists ached from the handcuffs. Pride hurt worse.
The holding cell smelled like bleach and desperation. I wasn’t sure which would cling to me longer.
The steel door banged open.
“Aia Torres,” the desk sergeant barked. “You’re free. Bail’s posted.”
Mia swept in like a storm, her hair wild, her grin sharper than a knife. She hooked her arm through mine.
“Come on, drama queen. Before you start a prison riot.”
I sagged with relief. “You have no idea—”
“Oh, I have an idea.” Her grin widened. “That firefighter you shoved? Helmet cam. Viral. Hashtag: #NathanDodgedABridge. Thirty thousand views and counting.”
I groaned. “Please tell me you’re lying.”
“Do I look like I joke about trending hashtags?”
For the first time in days, I laughed. Half bitter. Half relieved.
The sergeant slid my belongings across the counter—my clutch, my phone… and the black business card. $5,000,000.00 still glared back at me.
I shoved it into my bag before Mia noticed.
By the next morning, whispers followed me like shadows at Hudson Tech.
“Suicide girl.”
“Counting dollars for her next meltdown?”
I lifted my chin, sunglasses hiding swollen eyes. I refused to flinch.
But when I entered the glass conference room, Vivian was already there. Crimson suit. Heels sharp as daggers. Behind her, a massive screen lit up:
Congratulations to our New Regional Director – Vivian Reynolds.
My title. My project. My stolen future.
The meeting ended. Vivian crossed the floor, each step deliberate. Her perfume coiled around me like poison.
“Aia,” she said sweetly, “don’t take this personally. It’s just business.”
“You stole my work,” I snapped before I could stop myself. Heads turned.
Her smile sharpened. “Nathan chose power, not you. And now? I have both. Face it, Aia… you were just rehearsal.”
Gasps. Heat rushed up my neck. My nails bit into my palms.
I forced a smile. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
Her laugh followed me out, echoing like gunfire.
By noon, I was at the supermarket with a half-empty cart. Rent was due. My card was already gasping.
Beep. Declined. Again.
The cashier’s eyes flicked up. People behind me muttered. Someone lifted a phone.
“Isn’t she the girl from the bridge video?”
I wanted to vanish.
Then a man stepped forward from the line. Rolled-up sleeves. Tired eyes. He slid cash across the counter.
“Keep the milk. Everybody has bad days.”
Heat flooded my face. Not humiliation. Gratitude.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Not everyone was Vivian.
That night, the black card pulsed on my table. Damon’s offer.
Five million. Dangerous. Probably illegal.
But it wasn’t just temptation anymore. It was survival.
My hand brushed my stomach. My baby. My future.
I wasn’t just broke. I was planning.
I wasn’t just humiliated. I was sharpening.
If I ever said yes, it would be because I was ready.
My phone buzzed. A message.
Dinner. Tomorrow. 8 PM. Casa Loma. – Alex Narvaez
My stomach twisted. Alex. The man who humiliated me in college. The man who smirked while I crumbled.
Now? Roses and reservations.
A knock on the door. I froze.
“Delivery.”
A massive bouquet of red roses. Card tucked inside:
You can’t ignore this forever. – Alex.
The scent of roses filled the room, cloying, overwhelming.
Not just a message. A dare.
My pulse betrayed me with one dangerous thud.
Meanwhile, in Vivian’s penthouse:
She slammed the door, heels clicking like bullets across marble.
“You embarrassed me in front of the investors today,” she snapped.
Nathan loosened his tie, glaring. “You embarrass yourself every time you open your mouth.”
Her chin lifted. “Careful. One slip, and they’ll smell weakness.”
“Standing next to you is weakness,” he bit out. “You think I married you for love? Don’t flatter yourself.”
Vivian’s lips curved into a deadly smile. “And you think I don’t know? I married you to keep Aia Torres on her knees.”
Guilt flickered across Nathan’s face.
Vivian leaned closer, her whisper silk over steel.
“Act like a husband… or I’ll remind the world the golden boy isn’t so golden.”
The glass in his hand shattered. His knuckles bled.
But Vivian only smiled wider.
- Writer
