BOUGHT TO BE LOVED

CHAPTER FOUR

"Congratulations, superstar," Tolu said with a smirk. "You’ve just made enemies you can’t even pronounce." I looked up from my desk, my heart racing from the last task I barely submitted on time. Tolu leaned against my cubicle wall, chewing gum like it was an Olympic sport. "What now?" I asked, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "You think getting moved to the RFX file was a promotion?" she said. "It's a blood sport, Amara. Those people eat interns for breakfast." I didn’t ask for it, but Lex chose me, which made me a target. People started looking at me differently, whispering behind my back, and making it hard for me to get my job done. By lunchtime, I was drowning in emails and tasks. No one told me how to do any of it; there were no instructions, no guidance, just expectations. I sat at my desk, rereading a contract I didn’t fully understand, while my phone buzzed nonstop in my bag. I didn’t check it; I couldn’t. I went to the restroom just to breathe. The mirror didn’t lie. My eyes were tired, my collar was slightly stained with ink, and my hair puffed at the edges. No amount of fixing it would change the truth, I looked like someone who didn’t belong here. When I returned, a Post-it note was stuck to my screen. Conference Room 9, 2:30. Be early. My heart did a quick flip. Lex. What now? I rushed to gather my files and stood in front of the room, pulse thumping in my throat. Lex walked in at exactly 2:29, black shirt, sleeves rolled, same unreadable face. He didn’t greet me; he walked straight to the head of the table and flipped open a file. "What’s wrong with this?" he asked, his voice firm but controlled. I read the memo, and I heard what he meant. It was flat, lifeless. "You’re speaking to board executives, not a court judge," he said. "Write like you’re the smartest person in the room. Not the most careful." I nodded, swallowing my embarrassment. He studied me for a moment. "You’re scared," he said, his voice dropping slightly. "But fear can be shaped. That’s why you’re still here." He gathered the file and stood. "You get one more shot. Fix it. By 6:00 p.m." I sprinted back to my desk and rewrote the memo with every ounce of energy I had left. I poured my voice into it, trimmed the fluff, sharpened the points, and rewrote the intro three times before settling on something bold. Confidence. Almost arrogant. At 7:04 p.m., my inbox pinged. Subject: RFX Memo Revision From: Lex Lawson Message: Better. Still too polite. Rewrite again. Deadline: Tomorrow, 8:00 a.m. sharp. I should’ve been annoyed, but I smiled. That meant I wasn’t invisible. Not anymore. As I left the office, I noticed something odd. My bag had been moved. Not far. Just... slightly off. I opened it, and my heart sank. My phone was dead, and a message appeared on the screen. “We said stop. This is your last warning.” I dropped the phone, my mind racing. Who was behind this? And what did they want from me?

The hallway pressed in around me, suffocating, the air thick and heavy like the house itself was alive. Two of them now. Identical smiles, identical eyes gleaming in the dark. My throat constricted as sweat trickled down the back of my neck. Fear usually came with cold, but this time it came with heat. A blistering, unnatural warmth that pulsed through the walls and floorboards.

The figures moved in unison, tilting their heads as if mocking me. Their grins widened until I thought their cheeks would tear. I staggered backward, searching for any escape, and the wooden railing at my back groaned under my weight. “What do you want from me?” My voice cracked, thin and useless in the thick air. One of them stepped forward, its voice a distorted echo of mine. “We want you to burn.”

The temperature surged. My lungs seared with each inhale, as though I were breathing fire. The wallpaper on the hallway walls began to curl and blacken, smoke wafting upward. My skin prickled, damp with sweat, my clothes clinging uncomfortably to my body. I coughed violently, tears stinging my eyes. “This isn’t real,” I gasped, shaking my head. “It can’t be real.” But the floorboards beneath my feet glowed faintly red, heat radiating upward. A low hiss rose from below, like flames licking at the wood.

Panic surged through me. I darted down the opposite end of the hall, not daring to glance back. Every step was a battle against the suffocating heat, every breath scorching. My vision blurred, spots of black dancing at the corners. Still, I forced myself forward, my hand trailing along the blistering wall for balance. Behind me, the laughter began again. Hollow. Twisted. It echoed down the hallway, chasing me faster than their footsteps ever could.

I turned a corner sharply and found a door. My heart surged with desperate hope. I shoved it open and stumbled inside. The moment I crossed the threshold, the temperature dropped slightly, enough for me to drag in a ragged, blessed breath. It was a bedroom. The curtains hung in tatters, and the bed was nothing but a charred frame. Ash clung to the air, coating the floor in gray dust.

I slammed the door shut and pressed my back against it, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor. My chest heaved. Sweat soaked through my clothes, stinging my eyes. For a moment, I thought I had escaped. Then the door behind me trembled. Once. Twice. Then violently, as though something was pounding against it. I scrambled to my feet, heart hammering. My eyes darted around the room, searching for another way out. That’s when I saw it the window. Half-shattered, glass jagged along the frame, moonlight spilling faintly through.

I didn’t think so. I ran, brushing the shards aside with my sleeve before hoisting myself onto the sill. The night air outside was cool against my fevered skin, and for a second, relief washed through me. I was free. I just had to jump. But then I froze. In the glass shards clinging to the frame, reflections stared back at me. Not one. Not two. Dozens. All grinning. All mine. The pounding on the door stopped. The silence pressed against my ears until I thought I’d go mad. Then, from every shard in the window, the reflections whispered in perfect unison: “Jump… and we’ll catch you.”