INHERITED BOND

CHAPTER ONE

Becky's life in Santa Ana was painted in shades of monotony. Armed with a university degree, she braved the world of job hunting, only to find herself entangled in a web of rejection and unfulfilled dreams. Four years post-graduation, her days seemed to blur into a repetitive cycle of unsuccessful job interviews and unmet expectations.

Lying on her bed, she scrolled through her social media feed, a peculiar post caught her attention.

"Billionaires in Los Angeles Seeking Wives – A Unique Opportunity for the Brave." A scoff escaped her lips; it sounded like a plot ripped from a romance novel. She dismissed it as a frivolous attempt to capture the attention of unsuspecting dreamers.

Standing up from her bed, Her panicked eyes scanning the clock. Late! The interview she had been meticulously preparing for was looming, and time, like a fleeting wisp of smoke, slipped through her fingers. Hastily, she dressed, her movements a chaotic dance of zippers and buttons.

With barely an hour left, Becky darted out the door, the cityscape transformed by the urgency of her footsteps. The rain from the previous night clung to the streets, reflecting the gray skies that mirrored her anxious state.

Arriving at the bus stop, her heart sank at the sight of seated passengers, waiting patiently for a journey that seemed suspended in time. A delay until 8:30 am, the drivers announced, leaving Becky and her fellow commuters at the mercy of the unpredictable morning.

Seated in frustration, Becky's eyes fixated on her phone, a lifeline to distraction. The hum of rain and the soft chatter of disgruntled passengers surrounded her. A shuffle caught her attention, and an old Chinese man, his attire worn and weathered, settled uncomfortably close. Irritation brewed beneath her surface, her personal space invaded by the unwelcome proximity.

In an attempt to escape the discomfort, Becky buried herself in her phone, scrolling aimlessly. Then, to her disbelief, the old man produced an ice cream cone, an incongruous treat in the damp, chilly morning. He extended it to her, a gesture both perplexing and intrusive.

Becky recoiled, declining with a firm shake of her head.

"No, thank you," she said curtly,

her annoyance evident.

Undeterred, the old man indulged in the frozen delight, his enjoyment seemingly impervious to the rain and the disapproving glances he received. Becky, now bordering on disdain, marveled at how someone could relish ice cream in such weather, especially an elderly man.

The minutes stretched, the delay accentuating the ticking clock in Becky's mind. She hated the man already, his presence a distracting footnote in her race against time.

As if adding insult to injury, the old man concluded his peculiar snack, initiating a loud discourse about the delay. His voice, like an unwelcome companion, mingled with the pitter-patter of raindrops.

"We shouldn't be kept waiting like this! It's ridiculous," he proclaimed,

His words laced with frustration.

Becky, trapped in her own thoughts, barely registered the man's complaints. Her focus remained steadfast on the impending interview, a pivotal moment that could shape her future.

Just when the atmosphere seemed saturated with exasperation, an announcement pierced through the collective impatience. "Prepare for departure! The cars are ready to move."

Relief surged through Becky as she joined the collective shuffle towards the waiting vehicles. The old man's complaints faded into the background, his voice now just another echo in the city soundscape. The buses, ready to embark on their journey, represented a lifeline for Becky, a chance to salvage her punctuality and, with it, her shot at the coveted job.

As the wheels of the bus began to turn, Becky, still caught in the whirlwind of her own thoughts, glimpsed the old man once more. Their transient connection, marked by annoyance and an ice cream cone, dissolved into the rhythm of the moving city, leaving Becky to navigate the interview ahead with the echoes of that peculiar morning at the bus stop lingering in her mind.

Becky met her fellow applicants, seated quietly at the reception hall. All with the hope of getting a single job. Becky sat down quietly, filled with happiness that she's not late for the interview and the inner disappointment that more than ten persons have come to be interviewed for a single job; the same job she came for. “Who knows.. I could be lucky”, She gave her self an inner motivation.

The applicants were been invited to an inner office, a candidate at a time. As one is coming out, another person is been invited. Becky waited patiently for her turn. She's not scared. She's gone to a lot of interviews before. All she wants is her turn to get there.

Soon they were done and everyone left for her respective home with lingering hope of success .

The job interview proved to be another chapter in the book of disappointment. Becky, once again, found herself confronted by the harsh reality of rejection. Weeks passed in idle frustration, her days dominated by the ticking of the clock and the disheartening echoes of her mother's disappointed remarks about marriage.

The stinging words pushed Becky to seek solace in the arms of Finian, her boyfriend. The small one-room apartment, a microcosm of their modest dreams, offered a refuge from the external pressures. Finian, a man who vowed not to marry until financial stability embraced him, met her with a mix of concern and understanding.

"Becky, I want us to build a life together, but I need time to secure our future," Finian would often say, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and frustration.

Yet, as her mother's words continued to ring in her ears, Becky's mind drifted back to that peculiar post about billionaires seeking wives in Los Angeles. A seed was planted in her thoughts – a seed that grew into a daring plan to escape the suffocating routine of Santa Ana.

In secret, she meticulously crafted her departure to Los Angeles, not uttering a word to anyone.

The night before her clandestine journey, she visited Finian, her heart heavy with the weight of the unspoken truth.

"Finian, I have a job interview in Los Angeles. It's a big opportunity, and I need to take it," she lied, her eyes avoiding the gaze that pleaded for honesty.

Finian, unaware of the impending storm in Becky's heart, pleaded with her. "Don't go, Becky. We can figure something out here. I love you so much to see you leave."

The lie hung in the air, a fragile bridge between the life she knew and the one she envisioned in Los Angeles. As the night veiled Santa Ana in darkness, Becky, driven by a mix of determination and escape, embarked on a journey that would redefine her existence.

The road to Los Angeles stretched before her, winding through the tapestry of city lights and unexplored dreams. Each mile covered whispered promises of a different life, and as the landscape transformed, Becky left behind the familiar echoes of her past. The decision was made, and Los Angeles awaited the arrival of a girl named Becky, carrying with her

the weight of aspirations and the echoes of unspoken dreams.