Eli?
1427 Words
Chapter 5: Eli?
I took a long look at the mirror one last time. White shirt, blue pants, hair pulled into a sleek ponytail. Polished enough to look like I belong somewhere.
I look good.
Maybe not designer-level-sophistication but I-have-my-life-together kind of good. At least, that's the lie I'm telling myself today.
The mansion felt eerily quiet like it was watching me. I made my way down the quiet hallway and flight of stairs, past the guards that greeted me with slight nods.
The garage was lined with luxury cars and gleaming SUVs. And there it was. My dented, scratched, faded silver sedan looking like it had been snuck in through the back door when no one was looking.
I stepped into the driver's seat, slammed the door shut and jammed the key into the ignition.
Click.
Nothing.
I exhaled slowly and tried again.
Click. Rrrr_
Silence.
You have got to be kidding me.
I could already feel eyes on me. One of the guards by the gate had paused mid-step. I didn't need any explanation to know why they were watching me. Because of course the one car in the glittering estate that sounded like a dying goat had to belong to me.
Move yourself you damn piece of crap.
Rrrr_
Come on, come on. Not now.
The engine coughed like it was choking on its own breath and finally groaned to life.
Whew! Finally.
I didn't wait. I threw it into gear and pulled away from the mansion like I was escaping something. Which technically I was.
I drove faster than I should have, as if speed could shake the weight off my chest. The further I got from the estate, the easier it was to breathe again.
The office felt normal. Phones rang, people shouted across desks and somewhere, someone cursed at a printer. Elsewhere, office gossip over hot coffee. No one looked at me like I had vanished for days.
Well… that's good.
"You're back," Jules said as I passed his desk.
"Yeah."
"Didn't think we'd see you again after the great disappearing act."
I forced a smirk. "I'm just here for the drama."
"I wish," he said laughing.
"Tara wants to see you."
"What? Now?"
He was too busy typing to meet my eyes. "You heard what I said."
My stomach tightened.
Of course she wanted to see me. I knew this was going to be bad. But just how bad?
I walked through the familiar maze of desks to the glass-walled office at the end. Tara Collins was already at her desk flipping through a folder like she didn't have time to waste.
Breathe, Reina. Breathe.
I mustered up the courage to knock and stepped in.
"Sit," she said without looking up.
I did.
"Welcome back, Shaw."
"I'm sorry. I know I messed up. But I'm here now. I'm ready to work."
She looked up at me finally. Her expression unreadable.
"You're being reassigned."
I blinked. "Reassigned to what?"
"Entertainment."
"What? No, you're kidding me. I missed one deadline in three years. Just one. And now I'm being punished for it?"
"It's not a punishment, Reina. It's protection."
"Protection?" I repeated half laughing. "Tara, I've worked this beat for three years. I've earned my desk and you know it. I'm constantly being looked down on even when I'm the hardest worker and because of one slip up I'm being demoted from an investigative journalist to an online gossiper?"
Silence.
"You vanished for three days. No contact. No updates. Then you come back saying it was a dead end?"
"It was."
She raised an eyebrow. "You expect me to believe that?
You?
Reina Shaw?
Who lives and breathes leads like oxygen?
Who chases corruption like a damn bloodhound?"
I said nothing.
"I don't know what you got yourself into," she went on, voice lower. "And I'm not asking. But I've been in this job too long to not recognize fear when I see it."
My chest tightened. How did she…?
"I'm not shelving you. I'm keeping you out of harm's way. For now."
I clenched my fists in my lap. "So what? You're just going to stick me in red carpets and i********: birthdays until I disappear?"
"Until the heat dies down."
"I can handle it."
She shook her head. "You can't and we both know that. Let's not sit in deceit. At this point what's left for you is survival. And survival means stepping back before you burn out."
I swallowed hard. "So that's it?"
"That's it." She slid a file across the desk. "Your new assignment starts Monday. I've thought this through after we spoke yesterday. This is the only way I can keep you safe without forcing you to tell me what I don't need to know."
I couldn't say anything. I just got up and left her office.
My chest felt so heavy. My vision blurred. I walked fast, determined. Like it would stop me from falling apart.
But then, I heard her.
That voice.
"Back already?" Clara's syrupy tone floated through the air like poison in perfume.
I stopped, barely turned.
She was leaning on the side of a cubicle, sipping iced coffee like it was wine, with her long legs crossed and a smirk practically carved into her face.
I didn't respond.
"I heard you're on the entertainment desk now." Her voice rose just loud enough for the nearest desk to hear. "Bold move. From corruption exposés to covering influencer breakups. Is that a career pivot or a cry for help?"
I said nothing. Just dug my nails into my palm.
"Oh come on, don't be shy. Let's be honest, investigative work was never really your thing.
You're more… lipstick and lighting than leads."
Her smile sharpened. "Guess the pressure of real reporting was a little too much, huh?"
Exchanging words with her here would only make things worse for me. I just had to hold myself back from shutting her up.
"You know, Reina, you used to act like you were better than the rest of us. All that serious journalist energy, chasing ghosts, waving your little notebooks around like truth was some kind of sword. But in the end, you're just like one of us."
I couldn't hold it back anymore.
"Like one of who? b***h, you don't know a damn thing about me."
Clara blinked in a mocking way. "Don't I? Because from where I'm standing, looks like you made a lot of noise, vanished for some days and came back with nothing but smeared mascara and a down spirit.
Hope you're good at naming designer dresses, sweetheart, because your old desk's already been claimed."
Every word from her felt like acid on raw skin, but I refused to let her see me bleed.
"I'd say welcome to fluff news but even we have standards."
I didn't speak, just looked at her. Really looked at her like I was memorizing her face for the day I'd ruin it with my bare hands.
She wanted to break me in front of everyone, but I would never give her that satisfaction.
So I walked away. Past my old desk, past the headlines I'd chased, past the people who used to respect me.
Her laugh followed me. Light. Cruel.
Clara Simmons was a parasite wrapped in Prada, and now I was bleeding, she was circling.
People like her don't kill you at once.
They watch you unravel.
Today, she pulled another thread and smiled while doing it.
I stepped out of the building and into the afternoon heat, my pulse still pounding from the last few minutes.
Clara’s voice echoed in my skull. Every smug syllable dipped in cruelty.
That laugh. That look. That performance in front of everyone, like she’d won.
My jaw tightened.
She thought she had me figured out. Thought I’d shrink back. Thought I’d fade into the shadows with my head down, filing celebrity divorces while the real stories passed me by.
But I wasn’t built for hiding.
She wanted humiliation? She’d get something else entirely.
I was halfway into my car when my phone rang.
NAOMI.
She never called during work hours unless it was bad. Really bad.
I picked it up. “Hey, what’s—”
Her voice tore through the speaker, raw and shaking.
“Reina. Where the hell are you?”
My stomach dropped. “Naomi, what happened?”
Silence.
Then…
“It’s your brother. Something’s wrong. They…”
The call cut.
No signal.
No message.
Just dead silence… and the sound of my heart breaking wide open.
- Writer
