Chapter Four
1031 Words
Sophia’s POV
The machines beeped quietly, their rhythm the only thing anchoring me in this miserable little hospital room.
Mom’s chest rose and fell, shallow but steady.
Her face was pale. Shrunken. And my heart broken again at the sight of her. She'd once been young and full of life, until cancer happened.
I brushed a few stray hairs off her forehead and forced a smile.
“Everything’s gonna be alright, Mama,” I whispered. “I promise.”
The lie sat heavy on my tongue.
Nothing was alright.
The last of my savings were gone. I had spent everything—everything—on her chemo.
Rent money. Grocery money. Even the little emergency fund tucked away in the cracked teapot above the fridge. Gone.
I’d taken a break from work because she needed me. Because leaving her alone felt like handing her over to death itself.
But now?
I was drowning.
I couldn’t afford a proper caregiver. Having been out of a job for over six months, I couldn't afford much of anything anymore.
Hell, I couldn’t even afford another week of her treatment if something didn’t change.
Something had to change.
I dropped my head into my hands, the weight of it all crashing down on me.
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have any options left.
And then—
Buzz. Buzz.
My phone lit up on the rickety side table.
It was my old boss. After I had taken a longer break than what she had given me, she had called three months back to let me know I was fired.
They couldn't wait for me. Work had to continue. I had tried to explain that my mother was undergoing chemo treatment, and I couldn't just leave her by herself.
Quinn had tried to calmly explain that in our line of job, there was no place for sentiments. And then, she had made me chose. Either the job or my mom.
With righteous anger running through my veins, I had chosen my mother.
And I would chose her over any job again and again.
“Sophia Blackwell speaking.”
“Blackwell. It’s Quinn.”
I sighed. “I know. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah. Listen—” Her voice was sharp, businesslike. “I’ve got a job. Client’s seen your file, seen your photo, and picked you personally.”
I blinked.
Me?
“What’s the job?” I asked, wary.
“Private protection. Woman and her kid. One million dollars. Full payout at the end of the contract.”
I nearly dropped the phone.
One million dollars.
That was enough to cover Mom’s chemo for the next few months. Enough to hire a real nurse, a full-time caregiver, hell, even move her into a top-tier private facility.
It would change everything.
But still... I hesitated.
“I—I need some time to think about it,” I said, glancing toward Mom.
“Don’t have time,” Quinn barked. “She needs someone now. You’re either on a plane to Avalon tonight, or I offer it to someone else.”
Panic knifed through me.
I looked at Mom. At the IV dripping poison into her veins. At the hospital bill stuffed in my backpack.
If I didn't leave now, if I didn't take the job, then mother was as good as dead. If I needed her to stay alive, then I needed this money to make sure of that.
At the framed photo of us on the nightstand, back when life was simpler. Happier.
There wasn’t a choice.
“I’ll take it,” I said hoarsely. “I’ll go, but on one condition. 500k dollars paid upfront. I need to hire someone to look after my mom while I'm away. I'd never leave her by herself, no matter how desperately I need this job.”
"You have always been a good negotiatior, Sophia. I'll make that happen. Pack light. Expect heavy security. You’re not just a bodyguard, you're going to be everything this woman wants. And I mean everything... Remember how we do it. She might not want protection, she might revolt. But you have to do everything to make sure the contract stays on, even if it means seducing her. Even it it means becoming her s*x toy. This is good money, we can't afford to tank it.”
“Got it.”
I hung up and sat there for a moment, heart hammering.
One million dollars.
It sounded like a dream.
A dirty, desperate dream.
I kissed Mom’s forehead, lingering.
She stirred a little but didn’t wake.
“I’m sorry, Mama,” I whispered. “I’m doing the best I can. I have to leave now, but I will be back soon, I promise.”
I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket and rushed out of the hospital room.
I got to the apartment I shared with my mom in record time. And quickly, I began to pack.
Tactical gear. Black jeans. Plain tanks.
Nothing flashy. Nothing to draw attention.
I tossed in my ID, my pistol, a burner phone, and the worn-out necklace Mom had given me when I was sixteen.
For luck, she’d said.
I could use some damn luck now.
I zipped up the bag and slung it over my shoulder, sparing one last glance at the woman sleeping in the bed.
Mama thought I was some kind of banker.
A nice, safe job in a nice, safe office.
She didn’t know the truth.
She didn’t know about the nights I sold my body just to keep the lights on.
Didn’t know about the dirty deals, the blood on my hands.
Didn’t know how many times I’d lied through my teeth just to keep a roof over our heads.
If she did—
God, if she did—
She wouldn’t even recognize me anymore.
But I couldn’t afford to feel sorry for myself.
We needed the money.
We needed it bad.
And besides...
How hard could protecting a woman and her kid really be?
I squared my shoulders and headed for the exit.
One last job.
One last lie.
Whatever it took.
To keep mom alive.
- Writer
