In Bed With My Ex's Brother-in-Law

Chapter 6 The Price of Dignity

Elena's POV

I didn't know whether to curse my luck or thank it. Why was it that every time I hit rock bottom, Eric Thompson happened to be standing right there? Did he have some kind of humiliation GPS installed on me?

The moment I found my footing, I stepped back—away from his heat, his scent, his overwhelming presence—and murmured, "Thank you."

Something flickered in his eyes. A frown, barely there, as if he disapproved of the distance I'd put between us.

"What are you doing here this early?" His voice was low, controlled. "Is it the hospital—"

Before I could respond, the HR manager appeared in the doorway. The moment she saw him, she snapped to attention, her spine stiffening. "Sir. Apologies. We were just... handling a situation."

"I'm not a situation," I cut in, my voice quiet but steady.

"We were just escorting her out," the manager added, shooting me a nervous glance. "She caused a scene, but it's being resolved."

I ignored her entirely, focusing every ounce of my attention on Eric. He was the real authority here. The only chance I had. And I seized it.

"Sir." I met his storm-gray eyes directly. "I came for my severance. She's telling me I don't exist in this company."

"There are no employment records for any Elena Grey at Thompson Crest Enterprises," the manager interjected sharply, clearly expecting this revelation to devastate me.

My chest tightened. "But I worked here for four years. I was on projects. I collaborated with teams. I got paid every month. How can I just... not exist?"

"Sir, there's simply no—" The manager's words faltered under Eric's gaze.

Those gray eyes pinned her where she stood, sharp and cold, as if he could peel back the layers of her lies with sheer force of will. She swallowed hard.

"Mr. Dalton hired her personally," she finally admitted. "All her paperwork went through him. I don't know where he kept it."

Rage simmered in my chest. Mark hadn't just betrayed me—he'd tried to erase me.

Eric's voice cut through the tension, calm but final. "If your direct supervisor hired you personally and terminated you personally, I can't overrule that. I made a promise to my sister—I won't undermine Mark's authority here."

My stomach knotted, but I refused to crumble. Of course. He was Mark's brother-in-law now. Why would he side with me?

He glanced at his watch, already moving on, and pulled out his phone.

Moments later, his PA appeared.

"Give her a blank check." Eric's voice was flat, disinterested. He gestured vaguely in my direction, not quite looking at me. "Let her fill in whatever she thinks she's owed. I have a meeting."

He didn't wait for a response. He stepped into the elevator, and the doors slid shut behind him.

I stood there, empty-handed, reeling. The HR manager stared at me with helpless, flustered eyes.

When his assistant handed me the blank check, I looked down at the paper in my palm—feeling nothing but a strange, hollow ache. Relief, maybe. Or humiliation. I couldn't tell anymore.

***

Back at May's apartment, I collapsed onto the couch, the day's chaos still reverberating through my skull. "You won't believe what happened," I murmured, spilling everything.

May shook her head, her expression soft with concern. "Elena... I can't believe Mark did that to you. Erased you. Like you never existed." She exhaled slowly. "I'm so sorry. That's just... it's vile."

I shrugged, clinging to what little dignity I had left. "It's over. I just need to move on."

Her eyes drifted to the envelope in my hand—the blank check Eric's assistant had given me.

A wicked grin tugged at her lips. "So... let me get this straight. You could fill this out for any amount, and Mr. Big Shot Alpha wouldn't even notice? He's got more money than God. This is your chance to actually live, Elena. On your terms."

I hesitated. For a moment, I let myself imagine it. A number. Any number. Enough to pay off my grandmother's medical bills. Enough for a real apartment. Enough to breathe.

But then I remembered the way Eric had looked at me in that HR office—sharp, assessing, as if he could see right through me. A shiver ran down my spine.

I shook my head, clutching the envelope tighter. "No. That's not who I am. I'll take what I'm owed. And I'll deduct the hospital bills he paid. I'm not going to let him think I'm some kind of gold-digger. Or a con artist."

May sighed, leaning back with a mixture of exasperation and admiration. "You're impossibly stubborn, you know that? And ridiculously principled." She shook her head. "Mark has no idea what he threw away."

I pressed the envelope to my chest, the strange mix of relief and humiliation still churning inside me.

"No, May. You don't get it. Nothing in life is free. Every gift comes with a price tag—whether you see it or not. And I'd rather sleep soundly with what's mine than toss and turn over what isn't."

The next morning, I stood in May's cramped apartment, my suitcase half-packed, guilt coiling in my stomach. "I really can't stay here any longer, May. I need to stand on my own," I said, zipping the bag with finality.

May frowned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Elena... you've been through enough. Are you sure? Why the rush? I mean, this place is a shoebox, but—"

"I know." I softened, reaching for her hand. "And I'm grateful, May. More than you know. I wouldn't have survived these past weeks without you. Your love... your care... it's the only thing that kept me from falling apart completely."

Her eyes glistened, and then she pulled me into a quick, fierce hug. "Just promise me one thing: take care of yourself, okay? And don't let anyone—Mark, Eric, or anyone else—walk all over you again."

"I promise," I whispered, pulling back with a shaky smile. "I just... need to try."

***

The next few weeks blurred into a relentless grind.

After sending money home to cover family debts and my grandmother's medical expenses, I used what little remained to rent a tiny studio—barely larger than a closet, but mine. Then I threw myself into the job market with everything I had.

Dozens of resumes. Customized cover letters for every position. Interview prep until my eyes burned.

My phone became a graveyard of rejection emails:

"Thank you for your interest in Edward & Co. Unfortunately, we have decided to pursue other candidates..."

"We appreciate your time, but the position has been filled..."

"After careful consideration, we regret to inform you..."

On and on they came. Each one stung—a small, sharp ache I forced myself to swallow. Temporary, I reminded myself. This is temporary. I'll find something.

One rainy afternoon, after a disastrous interview at a mid-sized marketing firm, I lingered near the lobby to make a phone call. But a sinking feeling stopped me cold.

"Yes, Jeniffer?" The receptionist's voice drifted through a glass partition, her conversation unmistakable. "...Yes, I understand... No, we can't hire her... I've spoken with Mr. Dalton already... Yes, he's firm on this. She's not a fit. No exceptions."

My stomach plummeted.

I pressed my hand to my mouth, listening as my future was dismantled by someone who didn't even know me. Someone Mark had spoken to. Someone he'd convinced I was unfit. unqualified. unworthy.

Rage ignited in my chest.

Mark. Mark was sabotaging me.

I dialed his number before I could think better of it. The line clicked.

"Elena?" His voice—familiar, infuriating, smug—came through.

"Mark!" I hissed, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. "What the hell are you doing? Are you seriously trying to destroy my life? Sabotaging every job I apply for?"

A pause. Then that lazy, condescending drawl I knew too well. "Elena... I think you're overreacting. It's not as serious as you're making it out to be."

"Not serious?" My voice dropped, ice-cold. "There's nothing left between us, Mark. You got your Bella. You got your shiny new life. So why are you trying to erase me? Why are you trying to ruin my future? What gives you the right?!"

"Calm down." His tone was placating, the kind you'd use on a hysterical child. "Look... I'm willing to talk about this. Meet me. Bluebird Café. Three o'clock."

"Bluebird Café?" I echoed, disbelief sharpening my voice. "You want me to meet you at Bluebird Café? Are you serious right now?"

"Just hear me out, Elena." And then he was gone, the line dead in my hand.

I stood there in the rain-soaked lobby, my phone clutched so tight my knuckles went white. Every instinct screamed at me to refuse. To hang up. To walk away and never look back.

But I needed answers. I needed to understand how the man I'd loved had become someone capable of such calculated cruelty.

So I went.