The Unluckiest Girl Alive
CHAPTER 1
ROSE'S POV
Who is the most unlucky person in the world? It's me. A girl whose dreams of becoming the best investigative journalist and renowned criminology writer seem to be drowning in an ocean of unfortunate events. Events like handling three major cases per month, only for my 'kind' supervisor, Morgana Kelly, to convince the victims to drop every single one.
I still remember how I had snuck into the Prime Minister's mansion like a thief, how I ended up in his bedroom somehow and had seen him entangled with a woman that wasn't his wife, and how he had shown up at my workplace the very next morning before flaring up. I must have peed my pants a little that day. There have been several other cases like that. I could say I still lose sleep over them.
Why haven't I been fired yet? In my supervisor's words, I am the best journalist for the Westmore Times paper because I have what others don't have. The balls. I hope she didn't mean that literally.
But now, as I stood outside a large mansion where a celebration was taking place, I wondered if I truly had the guts.
"You need to show us why you think we should still keep you after all you've done, Rose. In a week, I need you to give me a groundbreaking story, or you're losing this job." Morgana had told me.
After a bit of research, I found a story that caught my eye. The story of a renowned business tycoon popularly called the devil. Knowing how tight-lipped he was to the media, getting even the tiniest bit of information was enough to put Westmore at the top. A little more digging, and here I was before the Sterling estate that screamed might and danger, rising like a gold-dipped castle. I walked into the buzzing hall, watching as everyone moved with champagne flowing, glittering chandeliers shining like moons overhead, and the rich laughing a bit too loudly. The gala was in full swing. Tonight, every major media tycoon, tech tycoon, and political contributor was present. The air was heavy with stifling lies, fake chuckles, and compliments. I could feel it. But that was not why I was there.
"Are you in?" A voice cracked through the small objects in my ear. It was my best friend and work colleague, Ariana.
I nodded, although she couldn't see me. Slowly but steadily, I moved past the watchful eyes of the guards towards the staircase that led to what I learned was the private space of the business tycoon. Before I could place a foot on a step, an arm shoved me by the stomach with a light force.
"That place is out of bounds, ma'am." A deep voice reached my ears before I saw the uniformed bodyguard glaring down at me.
With a nervous chuckle, I fidgeted with my gown. "Actually, my bad. I was...um, looking for the restroom and couldn't find it. Someone directed me up there."
"It's out of bounds!" His tone was final.
I scoffed. "Oh." What could he be hiding so bad up there?
With a polite nod and a small smile, I walked away, moving through the crowds. This couldn't be it. My phone chimed. I looked at the screen, and my chest twisted.
I needed to keep this job.
So I moved outside, a steely resolve settling in my stomach as I walked around the building until I was behind what I knew was the private sector. I just needed a way to climb. Looking around, I saw a tall tree.
"What are you going to do, Rose?" Ariana called again.
"You remember when Lily and I used to climb the trees?" I chuckled bitterly, wiping the tears that briefly welled up.
Before Ariana could stop me, I had climbed and finally broken through the nearest window. Thankfully, I landed in a study room with floor-to-ceiling windows, mahogany shelving, and a massive oil picture of Damien Sterling, the devil business tycoon, in a suit.
I looked around the room with just one desk, a single safe, and a framed photograph that stopped my heart.
No. No, this isn't possible.
It was an old, somewhat faded, but recognizable photograph. A girl with delicate blond hair and a shy smile stood next to Damien Sterling, who was younger, taller, and had equally chilly eyes.
Lily?
I lifted it up with a shaky hand. In my memory, her face had not aged at all. She looked to be alive and secure. And not like someone who disappeared from the world seven years ago.
For heaven's sake, why was Lily with Damien Sterling? No. What had Damien Sterling done to my sister? s**t.
For years, Lily had walked out of the house and never returned. I had questions. I wondered if she left because she hated me. Our last interaction had been anything but pleasant. I had felt guilty all this while. What happened to her? My insides twisted, my heart pounded loudly, blood rushed through my veins, and beads of sweat made my hair stick to my face. I was too caught up in my thoughts of what might have happened to my sister when I heard a voice, deep and baritone, almost like they had a speaker buried in their throat.
"Who the f**k are you?" The frame dropped to the floor and shattered.
I turned around only to crash into a firm shirt. I stumbled backwards, clenching the edge of the desk behind me. The wall was, in fact, a man well over six feet tall with broad shoulders, wearing a dark suit and crisp white shirt underneath. I had to crane my neck and throw my head back to see who it was. And when I did, my heart dropped.
It was the Devil himself, in a suit. His hair fell to the side of his head in a stylish sweep, the color as dark as his gaze. His thick brows pulled together in a brooding frown, and his lips were tightened, jaws clenching and unclenching.
"I..." my voice broke. Embarrassing. "I was...I...in the restroom. Yes. I was looking around and..."