Chapter Five: Broken Glass
1134 Words
Sophia's POV
The moment I saw Victor standing in the lobby, my stomach dropped. For a second, I couldn't breathe.
The receptionist sat only a few feet away, busy answering calls, completely unaware that the man standing near her desk had the power to destroy what little peace I had left.
"Victor."
I hurried toward him before he could say anything. His eyes narrowed as he watched me approach. Without giving him a chance to speak, I grabbed his arm and pulled him toward a quieter corner of the lobby.
"What are you doing here?" I hissed.
Victor folded his arms across his chest.
"I'm here for my money."
Of course he was. My pulse pounded in my ears. "How did you find me?"
A cold smile spread across his face. "Your father."
The answer didn't surprise me. Not even a little. A bitter laugh almost escaped me. Of course it was my father.
Who else?
The man had spent years destroying everything he touched. If selling out his own daughter bought him a little more time, he wouldn't hesitate.
"He gave you my work address?" I asked quietly.
Victor shrugged. "He was very cooperative."
The anger building inside me felt almost as painful as the disappointment. My father wasn't protecting his family anymore. He was protecting himself. Always himself.
Victor pulled out his phone. "You remember this?"
He scrolled through several messages before stopping. My stomach sank.
There it was. The agreement. The promise I had made. The date I had committed to making the payment. Victor turned the screen toward me.
"Today's the day."
I closed my eyes briefly. God. I wasn't ready. Not even close.
"Please," I said. The word tasted like humiliation. "Please give me more time."
Victor's expression remained unchanged.
"You've been asking for more time for years, Sophia."
"I know."
"Seven days won't change anything."
His words stung because they were true.
I swallowed hard. "Just one more week."
Victor shook his head. "One week won't solve a problem you've been unable to solve for five years."
I hated hearing it. Mostly because I knew he was right. The debt had become a monster. Every payment only seemed to make it hungrier. I looked away.
"Please."
For a moment, Victor simply stared at me.
Then he sighed. The sound wasn't sympathetic. It sounded tired. As if he had grown bored of this conversation.
Finally, he slipped his phone back into his pocket. "Twenty-four hours."
I blinked. "What?"
"I'm giving you twenty-four hours."
Hope flickered briefly inside my chest.
"Victor—"
"Don't thank me."
The warning in his voice stopped me. "If I don't have the money tomorrow, things will change."
Fear crawled down my spine. "What does that mean?"
He looked directly into my eyes. "It means I'm done being patient."
Before I could respond, movement near the elevators caught my attention. Ethan Blackwell. He walked through the lobby with expensive AirPods pressed against his ears. Tall. Confidence. Untouchable.
Several employees stepped aside automatically to let him pass. He didn't even glance in my direction. Not once. No acknowledgment. No greeting. Nothing.
Maybe he thought Victor was a client. Maybe he thought he was a friend. Maybe he simply didn't care. Whatever the reason, he continued walking without stopping.
Victor followed my gaze. "Your boss?"
I nodded.
Victor smirked.
"It must be nice working for a billionaire."
I didn't answer. Because there was nothing nice about it. Not anymore. A few moments later, Victor left. And with him went the tiny bit of hope I had managed to hold onto.
Twenty-four hours. That was all I had left.
Twenty-four hours before everything collapsed. I stood there for several seconds before forcing myself toward the elevator. My legs felt weak. My chest felt tight.
By the time I reached my floor, I was barely holding myself together. I entered my office and shut the door. The silence felt unbearable. Mom. Leo. The hospital bills. The debt. The pregnancy. Everything seemed to be closing in around me at once.
I grabbed my handbag. I couldn't stay here. Not today. Not after that. I was halfway toward the elevator when someone called my name.
"Sophia!"
I froze. Emeka. Of course. He jogged toward me before I could escape. Concern immediately appeared on his face.
"You're leaving already?"
I forced a smile. "They called me from home." The lie came automatically.
He frowned. "Is everything okay?"
"Of course."
It wasn't. Not even remotely. But I wasn't about to unload my problems onto him.
Emeka studied me carefully.
The elevator doors opened behind us. As we stepped inside, the crowded space forced us closer together than usual.
"You don't look okay," he said quietly.
I looked away.
"I'm just tired."
His expression softened. "My love, you need to take care of yourself."
The nickname made me uncomfortable.
Not because Emeka was a bad person.
But because I couldn't give him what he wanted. Not when my life was already such a disaster. The elevator reached the ground floor.
I quickly stepped out. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Before he could respond, I hurried toward the exit. Outside, I climbed into a cab and gave the driver my address. The entire ride home felt endless.
I stared out the window while my thoughts spiraled. Victor's threat echoed repeatedly in my head. Twenty-four hours. If I couldn't pay him, he would take the house. My mother's house. The only thing she still owned. The last piece of stability our family had left. The thought made me sick.
By the time I arrived home, my head was pounding. I paid the driver and climbed the stairs to my apartment.
The moment I entered, I headed straight for my room. There was one thing I needed to check. One thing that might save me. My savings. It wasn't much. Three thousand dollars. But it was something. Every extra shift. Every sacrifice. Every dollar is carefully hidden away. I dropped to my knees beside my wardrobe.
Then I started searching. The top shelf.
Nothing. The drawers. Nothing. Under the clothes. Nothing.
My breathing quickened. "No..."
I searched again. And again. And again. The box wasn't there. Panic exploded inside me. I tore through the wardrobe. Pulled everything apart. Emptied every shelf. Nothing.
Then I noticed something near the corner of the room. My heart stopped. The savings box. It was lying on the floor. Open. Empty.
For several seconds, I simply stared.
Unable to process what I was seeing.
Then realization hit me. There was only one person who had a spare key to my apartment. Only one person. Lucas Hart. My father.
My hands began to shake. The three thousand dollars I had spent months saving was gone. Every single cent. And my father had stolen it.
- Writer
