The music in Club Vex was too loud. Too bright. It vibrated through my bones and made my head spin. I shouldn’t have been here. God, I really shouldn’t have. Three days ago my sister’s wedding got cancelled. The groom ran off with the bridesmaid. Two days ago the hospital called about my mom’s chemo bills. $80,000 and counting. And today, I got fired from my second job because I was late. So I put on the only dress I owned that didn’t have a stain, borrowed heels from my neighbor, and came here to forget. Just for one night. The bar smelled like expensive perfume and bad decisions. I ordered the cheapest wine and sat in the corner, watching people dance like they didn’t have a care in the world. That’s when I saw him. He was standing at the bar like he owned it. Black suit, sleeves rolled up, no tie. A glass of whiskey in his hand. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone. And yet every woman in the room kept glancing at him. Then his eyes found mine. Grey. Cold. But when he looked at me, something in them warmed. “Buy you a drink?” His voice was low, rough, like he hadn’t used it in a while. I should have said no. I should have gone home. “Only if it comes with no questions.” I heard myself say. He tilted his head and a slow smile pulled at his lips. “Deal.” One drink turned into two. Two turned into him pulling me onto the dance floor. His hand was warm on my back. He didn’t ask my name. I didn’t ask his. We didn’t talk about jobs or bills or cancelled weddings. We just danced. At 1AM he leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Come with me.” I knew what he meant. And I said yes. His hotel suite was on the 40th floor. All glass and city lights. It smelled like cedar and money. We didn’t turn on the lights. In the morning, the bed was cold. He was gone. But on the pillow there was a note, written in sharp black ink: `Call me. - A` And on the dresser, a stack of cash. $5000. I stared at it for a long time. Then I grabbed my dress and ran. I left the money. I left him. I left that whole night behind me. That was 5 years ago. Now I’m 27. A single mom. I work mornings at a coffee shop and nights cleaning offices. My son Leo is 4. He has my curly hair and his father’s grey eyes. I never told anyone about that night. Not my best friend. Not my mom. Especially not him. Aiden Cross. CEO of Cross Global. His face is on Forbes, on billboards, on the news. Worth 12 billion dollars. He probably doesn’t even remember me. I was fine with that. Until today. The envelope came to my office. Thick. Cream paper. No return address. Inside, a single sheet. `Ms. Zuri Nalongo, We need to discuss your son. Meet me. 8PM. The Cross Tower. Penthouse. Do not bring the lawyers. Do not be late. - Aiden Cross` My hands started shaking so bad I dropped the letter. He knows. But how? I changed my last name. I moved cities. I buried that night so deep. Leo was at daycare. I picked him up at 6 and held him too tight on the drive home. “Mommy, why are you sad?” he asked, his little grey eyes looking up at me. “I’m not sad, baby. Mommy just has a meeting.” At 7:45 I was standing across the street from the Cross Tower. 50 stories of glass reflecting the sunset. My heart was pounding out of my chest. Part of me wanted to run. Again. But the other part... the part that saw the hospital bills on my kitchen table this morning... that part made me walk inside. The security guard didn’t even ask my name. “Ms. Nalongo? Mr. Cross is expecting you. 50th floor.” The elevator was silent. Too quiet. My reflection looked pale and scared. Ding. The doors opened.The music in Club Vex was too loud. Too bright. It vibrated through my bones and made my head spin. I shouldn’t have been here. God, I really shouldn’t have.Three days ago my sister’s wedding got cancelled. The groom ran off with the bridesmaid.Two days ago the hospital called about my mom’s chemo bills. $80,000 and counting.And today, I got fired from my second job because I was late.So I put on the only dress I owned that didn’t have a stain, borrowed heels from my neighbor, and came here to forget. Just for one night.The bar smelled like expensive perfume and bad decisions. I ordered the cheapest wine and sat in the corner, watching people dance like they didn’t have a care in the world.That’s when I saw him.He was standing at the bar like he owned it. Black suit, sleeves rolled up, no tie. A glass of whiskey in his hand. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone. And yet every woman in the room kept glancing at him.Then his eyes found mine. Grey. Cold. But when he looked at me, something in them warmed.“Buy And there he was. 5 years older. 5 years harder. Aiden Cross. And he was staring at me like he’d been waiting 5 years to do exactly that.
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