CHAPTER TWO
1834 Words
Mila’s POV
The words “Pay me what you owe me” echoed in my mind as I walked down the polished hallways of the company. Simon’s presence was still heavy on my shoulders, like a shadow I couldn’t shake. I hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten properly, hadn’t even thought about what would come next.
And yet, here I was, stepping into a world I never asked to be part of.
A few days ago, after that encounter, Simon’s assistant had called. “We’ll give you a trial,” “Three days to see if you fit in.”
No explanation, no promises, just an offer that carried far heavier weight than I could name. I didn’t know why I accepted it. Fear? Curiosity? Or the instinct that told me I couldn’t turn my back on someone who knew my past… and could use it against me.
The first day was ordinary enough. I was assigned small tasks, organizing files, running messages, learning the rhythm of a place designed to impress and intimidate at once.
The hum of computers, the clicking of heels, the soft murmur of employees who moved as if every step was measured, it all made me uneasy but I reminded myself thatI was surviving, I was careful, I had no other choice.
On the third day, I was told to help tidy up the back office while a few executives went to a meeting. “Just make yourself useful,” one of the assistants said, handing me a stack of invoices.
I nodded, trying to focus on the numbers but my eyes wandered. That’s when I noticed it, a manila folder, tucked beneath a pile of routine reports.
It wasn’t labeled like the others. No barcode, no date, Just the words titled “Confidential Internal Audit.”
Curiosity prickled my skin, a warning I ignored. I slid the folder toward me and flipped it open.
The first page made my stomach twist and my mouth went dry in disbelief.
Receipts, shell companies, and offshore accounts. Hundreds of names, decades of money disappearing from people who trusted this company with their livelihoods.
Frauds layered on frauds, meticulously hidden, and at the center. Simon Lopez’s signature was sharp and precise, appearing again and again.
I couldn’t breathe. My hands shook as I scrolled through the documents. This wasn’t just a company, this was a machine built to steal from the powerless and they had wanted me.
They had wanted me to join it, to climb into its belly and keep the lies spinning round the clock.
A shadow fell across my desk. I looked up.
The office was colder than the rest of the building, not in temperature, but in design.
Glass walls, Sharp edges, no clutter, no warmth. Power lived here and it knew it.
I kept my chin high as I stepped further inside. I didn’t allow myself to look nervous, I couldn’t.
Simon leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. “You took your time,” he said smoothly.
“I wasn’t aware this was optional,” I replied, voice steady.
His lips curved faintly. “Everything is optional. The consequences aren’t.”
Before I could respond, the door behind me opened. The sound was quiet and controlled.
I turned. My breath almost caught.
Jimmie?
He stepped in like he owned the air, suit tailored perfectly, expression unreadable. But for one split second, just one, his eyes flickered recognition.
A flash of memory, a dimly lit room, a different version of me. The past clawed up my spine, but I forced it back.
Jimmie’s gaze passed over me deliberately, calmly as if I were nothing more than a stranger standing in the room.
“Mila Vaughn,” Simon said casually, watching both of us too closely. “You’ve met Jimmie?”
A pause stretched thin, thick with unspoken history.
I tilted my head, offering the polite smile reserved for strangers at corporate events. “I don’t believe so.”
Jimmie didn’t hesitate. “I would remember.”
The lie settled smoothly between us.
Simon’s eyes flicked from one to the other. “Pity,” he murmured. “You two have more in common than you think.”
I folded my hands in front of me. “You asked me here for a reason.”
Simon leaned forward. “Yes. Let’s not waste time pretending this is social.”
He tapped a file lightly on his desk.
“You walked away from an advantageous marriage. You embarrassed powerful people. That alone makes you… interesting.”
I held his gaze. “If this is about my father”
“It isn’t,” Simon cut in. “This is about leverage.”
My stomach tightened.
Simon’s voice dropped, losing its polished edge. “Everyone has something they’d rather keep buried.”
The silence shifted, Heavy.
Jimmie didn’t look at me but I could feel the tension radiating from him.
Simon slid a thin envelope across the desk. It stopped inches from my hand.
“You built quite an independent life in New York,” he continued mildly. “Different name, different work.”
I didn’t move.
“Impressive,” Simon added. “Resourceful.”
My pulse pounded in my ears.
Jimmie’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
Simon’s smile sharpened. “It would be unfortunate if certain details resurfaced.”
There it was. Not an accusation. Not yet, a warning.
I finally reached for the envelope, but didn’t open it. “You’re threatening me,” I said evenly.
“I’m offering you protection,” Simon corrected. “In exchange for cooperation.”
“And if I refuse?”
Simon leaned back again, calm and lethal. “Then the world learns who you were before you remembered you were a Vaughn.”
The air thickened.
Jimmie finally spoke, his voice neutral, controlled. “That seems unnecessary.”
Simon glanced at him. “You disagree?”
“I think,” Jimmie said carefully, “people can be useful without being cornered.”
A subtle line had been drawn, Simon noticed.
“Oh?” he said lightly. “You’re invested already?”
Jimmie’s expression didn’t shift. “I’m practical.”
My heartbeat thundered.
He was protecting me but he couldn’t show it. Not here, not yet.
Simon’s attention returned to me. “You don’t have to like the arrangement,” he said. “You just have to understand it.”
I lifted my chin. “And what exactly do you want from me?”
Simon smiled, “Loyalty.”
The word felt like a chain.
I stood there between two men who knew my past.
One who wanted to weaponize it, and one who was pretending he didn’t recognize it.
And for the first time since walking away from my family, I realized something terrifying, freedom had made me visible.
And visibility made me vulnerable.
I gave Simon a calm, measured look. “I’ll consider your offer.”
Simon nodded once. “You’ll accept it.”
It wasn’t confidence, It was a certainty.
A slow breath escaped me as I turned, leaving the office.
The cold New York wind slapped my face, warning me again that survival was no longer optional.
I had to resign. My name, once full of hope and determination, felt hollow on my lips. I had no plan, no money, no leverage, nothing.
For days, I wandered, avoiding friends, and ignoring calls. Imagining a path forward that didn’t exist. Rent was due, bills stacked up, hunger eroded me at the edges of my pride and reality hit. Survival demanded choice, compromise, and a strength I didn’t know I had.
I found a world I had never imagined, hidden in plain sight with men willing to pay for companionship, for touch, for control over someone else’s body in exchange for money.
At first, the thought repulsed me. I couldn’t even imagine it. But hunger, cold nights, and a gnawing fear of powerlessness pushed me toward it.
The first night was the hardest. I sat in a room I didn’t own, on a bed I didn’t trust, with a man who didn’t care about me.
I felt like I had already died and no one had bothered to tell me. My skin crawled, my stomach turned, my dignity shattered.
And yet… When I walked out with a thick envelope of cash in my hand, I felt something I hadn’t had in weeks, it's control. Not pride, not happiness but control. I had survived and for now, that was enough.
It didn’t take long before the encounters blurred together. The hotel rooms, polite smiles, empty conversations, fleeting touches. Every night, I told myself it was temporary. Every morning, I looked in the mirror and saw a woman surviving, not a girl broken.
Then came the night I met Jimmie again.
It wasn’t planned. This was our second time meeting after we had a one night stand in the past. Life separated us but I always wished we could meet someday again.
He wasn’t like the others. I didn’t notice at first how different he carried himself, confident, but not arrogant. Attentive, but not invasive. When our eyes met, it wasn’t about money or lust. It was a curiosity.
He didn’t ask about my past, he didn’t judge. He laughed once, lightly, and it was the first time in weeks I felt human. The world hadn’t crushed me yet.
“ I can remember we had a one night stand in the past, but why are you doing this?” he asked quietly, his gaze steady.
I wanted to lie, I wanted to hide the desperation that had driven me into this world, but the truth slipped anyway.
“Because I have to, because no one else will help me survive.”
He studied me for a long moment, then nodded not in judgment, but understanding.
“You’re better than this,” he said simply. “You don’t have to keep doing it. You have potential. Real potential.”
Something in me cracked. The first time someone had ever seen me as more than my circumstances, I felt it like fire spreading through ice.
He didn’t lecture me, he didn’t beg, But he gave me a glimpse of a life I thought I’d lost. A life where I could choose, not just survive.
And at that moment, I made a decision. I would continue for a little while longer because I had no other choice but I would not forget the offer of something better. I would survive. I would endure. I would learn and I would rise again, even if it meant walking through fire barefoot to do it.
Walking home that night, the city lights reflected off wet asphalt. I pressed my hands to my face and whispered to no one, “I’ll get through this. I have to.”
Because in New York, the city doesn’t care if you’re broken. It only rewards those who fight and I have learned how to fight.
- Writer
