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Emotional Bombshell
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2025-03-11 19:15:16Alex turned to face me fully, his expression more open than I'd ever seen it. "When I was twelve, I got lost in the Blue Ridge Mountains during a family vacation. I wandered for hours in the dark, cold and scared. And then..." He hesitated. "A girl found me. She was young, probably around my age. She brought me to her cabin, gave me food, let me warm up. She saved my life."
The chill spread through my entire body now. This couldn't be what it sounded like.
"Before I left the next morning, she gave me a bracelet," he continued. "Made of glass beads she'd created herself. For luck, she said."
My mouth went dry. "A lot of people make glass beads."
"Not like these." He reached into his pocket and pulled out something that caught the morning light, sending tiny rainbows danci
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I slammed my apartment door behind me and tore off Alex's sister's—no, his "houseguest's"—clothes like they were burning my skin. The sweater caught on my earring, ripping it from my lobe with a sharp sting that barely registered through the white-hot rage pulsing behind my eyes."Fuck!" The word exploded from my chest, bouncing off the bare walls of my apartment. "FUCK!"I stormed into my bedroom, grabbed my pillow and drove my fist into it once, twice—not enough. I pressed it against my face and screamed until my lungs burned for air, the fabric muffling sounds that would've had the neighbors calling police. My throat felt raw when I finally stopped, collapsing onto the mattress, chest heaving.The lost boy from the woods. The same fucking person as my boss. What kind of cosmic joke was this?
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"What the fuck is this?" I demanded, voice shaking with rage.Alex closed the door behind him, moving slowly as if approaching a cornered animal. "I can explain.""Explain?" I brandished the papers. "Explain why you have surveillance photos of me? Medical records? Financial statements? Were you investigating me or fucking stalking me?""Neither." He ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. "I was building a case against Daniel.""By digging through my entire life?" The betrayal cut deeper than I wanted to admit. "Without my knowledge or consent?""Maya, please. Let me explain properly.""Fine." I crossed my arms, heart hammering against my ribs. "Explain why the CEO of a major design firm is playing private detective. Explain why you didn't tell me when you hired me that you'd been watching me for god knows how long."Alex sighed, gesturing toward the chairs by the window. "Will you sit? Please?""I'll stand.""Okay." He leaned against his desk, keeping
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I thought of his face when I'd confronted him about the investigation—not defensive or angry, but genuinely pained at having hurt me. It didn't excuse what he'd done, but it added a dimension I'd been reluctant to acknowledge."Enough about my brother," Sarah declared, clearly sensing my discomfort. "Let's talk Paris. If you accept the showcase offer, you'd come for eight weeks. We'd provide an apartment, studio space, materials budget, and a stipend."My pulse quickened at the concrete details, making the opportunity real in a way it hadn't been before. "And I'd have complete creative control?""Absolutely. Our role is support, not direction. We help with production resources, technical challenges, and of course, publicity and sales." She leaned forward, eyes bright with excitement. "Maya, your work could be in major European collections by spring. We're talking career-changing exposure."I took a deep breath, allowing myself to imagine it. My name, my vision, recognized internationa
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