Chapter One: Desperate Circumstances Her debt, eviction, and family pressure
970 Words
Alessia Hart stood on the cracked sidewalk, a faded eviction notice fluttering in her trembling hands like a cruel flag of defeat. The red letters screamed at her — FINAL WARNING — as if her own failures weren’t already loud enough in her head. The landlord didn’t even bother to hand it to her. He’d taped it to the door that morning while she was out buying her mother’s prescription — on credit. Again.
She stared at the peeling paint of the apartment door, the rusted hinges, the broken lightbulb above the frame. Home. Or what used to be. Now, it was just one more thing she was about to lose.
Behind her, the city roared with life — taxis honking, people rushing past, earbuds in, coffee in hand. Everyone had somewhere to go. Something to do. A life to live.
Alessia had none of those things. Just a sick mother in bed, two maxed-out credit cards, a part-time diner job, and a scholarship she’d been forced to abandon when the hospital bills started eating up everything. She used to dream of becoming a writer — of escaping into stories and words, not getting buried under them.
But reality had no room for dreams. Not when your mother was dying slowly in the next room, and the world didn’t care.
She exhaled shakily and slipped the eviction notice into her worn leather purse. It was almost comical how many creases the paper had. This wasn’t the first. Or the second. But now, it is final.
"Alessia?" a weak voice called from inside.
She quickly wiped her eyes and forced a smile as she stepped back into the apartment. "I’m here, Mama."
Diana Hart lay curled on the threadbare couch, a blanket pulled up to her chin. Her once-bright hazel eyes were dull with pain, her skin pale and thin. Cancer had taken her hair, her energy, her laughter. But somehow, Alessia’s mother still tried to smile.
"Did you get the medication?"
"Yeah," Alessia said, setting the bag down on the counter. "Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered."
She hadn’t. The pharmacy clerk gave her the pills out of pity, whispering, “Just pay it when you can,” with a look that said you can’t. It was the same look she’d gotten at the electric company, the food bank, the school office when she’d tried to delay her withdrawal another week.
She opened the kitchen cabinet. Empty. Not even ramen left.
Alessia closed her eyes for a second, willing herself not to break down. She couldn’t afford to cry. Not in front of her mother.
She walked back to the living room and sat beside her mom, tucking the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "You rest, okay? I’m going to check something on my phone."
Diana touched her hand. "You’re working too hard, baby. You should be in school, not waiting tables at night and taking care of me. This isn’t your burden."
Alessia smiled softly. "It’s not a burden. It’s family."
But the truth was, it was heavy. Crushing. And she was one cracked moment away from collapse.
Her phone buzzed with a notification. A new job alert. Temporary hostess at some high-profile gala downtown. Required: heels, class, and the ability to smile for hours. Pay: decent. Dignity: optional.
She clicked away from it. She’d already applied for ten jobs this week and heard back from none.
Then, as if summoned by her silent plea, another message popped up.
SUBJECT: URGENT CONTRACT — PRIVATE OFFER
From: Blackwood Holdings
Her brows furrowed. She almost deleted it as spam, but something made her tap it open.
To Miss Alessia Hart,
You have been preselected for a confidential opportunity that may resolve your current financial challenges. This arrangement requires discretion, a minimum one-year commitment, and immediate availability.
Compensation: Six figures.
Interested candidates will receive full details during a private meeting. If you wish to decline, simply ignore this message.
- Blackwood Legal Division
She blinked. Six figures? Private contract? What the hell was this?
She glanced at her mother — breathing shallowly, her fragile frame barely filling the couch. Then at the eviction notice in her purse. Then back to the screen.
Was this some scam? Or something worse?
Still, her thumb hovered over the reply button.
She didn't want to be the kind of girl who answered mystery messages from billionaires. But she wasn’t the kind of girl who could afford rent either.
She typed one word.
Interested.
Within five minutes, her phone rang.
“Miss Hart?” a clipped, professional male voice said.
“Yes?”
“You’ve been approved for a preliminary meeting. Your background was vetted through a third-party agency and meets the criteria. A car will pick you up tomorrow at 10 a.m. You’ll meet Mr. Damian Blackwood in person. He’ll explain the contract.”
Alessia’s voice caught in her throat. “I... I don’t understand. What kind of contract is this?”
“All details will be discussed in person. It is strictly legal, binding, and beneficial to both parties. You are free to decline at any time.”
Her heart pounded. This sounded insane.
And yet, she heard herself say, “Okay.”
“Address will be sent via encrypted message. Dress appropriately. Do not be late.”
The call ended.
Alessia sat frozen for a long moment.
Then her mother stirred. “Everything okay, sweetheart?”
Alessia turned, forcing another smile. “Yeah. Just... a job opportunity.”
“Good.” Her mother sighed. “Something good for once.”
Alessia walked to the bedroom, closed the door quietly behind her, and leaned against it, eyes closed.
Something told her this wasn’t just another job.
This was something dangerous. Something life-changing.
And maybe — just maybe — her last chance to save everything.
- Writer
