Stacy's POV
I missed another opportunity to get a job. Even when I had a smiley face on, my shirt and skirt were crisp and smooth. My makeup is lightly done.
One that wasn't going to have the female employees wondering if I've gone to steal the favor of their superior and colleagues, or one a female superior would disagree with.
I made sure I did everything right, but the moment I heard the man say with a weak smile,
"I'm really sorry,"
I needed no further explanations. A vacancy I had well applied for. An interview I earned.
How was another candidate suddenly given the bag just yesterday? I thought on my way home as the afternoon sun hit my face. “Thank goodness I reused my sunscreen before leaving home.” I said to myself.
I could see my mom trailing down the stairs, and I knew her hawk eyes, firm but gentle, were gawking at me from where I sat down.
I fought back the tears in my eyes, preparing to pretend all was okay. I couldn't bring myself to her. I have failed again; I don’t know what to do again.
I was staring down at my phone before I realized she was already standing before me. I pretended whatever it was I didn’t know about it.
Staring at my phone made it so oblivious she was now standing there, but what I wasn't prepared for was when she crouched down, her hands on my knees, her face warm and her eyes tender, telling me that everything was going to be fine.
Perhaps, I needed not to lie. I couldn't hold back the tears at that moment, and I crashed my head into my mom's embrace, soaking her dress with my tears.
"You will get another one," she said as she patted my shoulders gently, but I could tell she was only saying that to console me.
"What makes you so sure?" I asked between sniffles, trying to get myself together.
She smiled, "I just know so, and as for those people, they can shove their appointment up their asses!"
I burst into a fit of laughter, “Mom!” and I could tell she just wanted to cheer me up from the way she smiled back.
In a few seconds, the somber feeling clouds my expression, and I rested my head on her shoulders.
“I just want to give us a better life, Mom. Am I not old and conscious enough to do that?”
“Look at you speaking like all you do is sit home and play video games!” she frowns,
“You step out there all day, seeking out every opportunity available. Hell, you were the one who made me understand the modern way of writing CV's and applying for jobs via emails.”
“You made me a critique of how well you composed your application letters, how well your choice of dresses looked, that alone should remind you, my girl, you are doing more than enough.”
“No, I'm not.” I whisper, and another stream of tears comes pouring down.
“My poor girl”, I heard the hurt in her voice as she embraced me tightly.
“It would have not been this difficult if Joe had never been around,” I mutter, and I knew my mom heard it when she went rigid beside me.
We remained silent for a few more seconds, and in that little moment, I knew whatever she was going to say as always was only meant to comfort me. I knew a part of her still blamed me for Joe. Still blamed me for what happened after Joe.
“Well,” she sighed, pulling me away from her so I was facing her, “I don't think you would have considered saving up that much if Joe hadn't suggested making an investment into your culinary skills”
“Joe had offered to support you, and no one would have known he had ulterior motives. Joe happened because it was meant to.”
“It's up to us to decide how we want to continue writing the story after Joe.” She said with a playful wink, and in no time, I was smiling.
“Let's get you something to eat,” she chirped as she stood up from the sofa.
“No. Mom …” I tried protesting, but I knew I had lost the battle right before it began when the clatter of a plate against the kitchen counter filled the atmosphere.
My mind wandered far to the most recent application I had submitted to a restaurant; my last resort. I wasn't religious, but at that moment, I folded my hands and whispered a prayer.
Marcelo's POV
I restrained myself from slamming the door hard when I stepped outside, my fists clenched into tight fists.
A playful smirk danced over the lips of Cathy; my best friend but I wasn't in the mood to entertain her jokes. It didn't stop her from trying though.
“You look more handsome when you frown, kittie,” she called out the name she used when she wanted to tease me, locking her arms around mine.
“Don't call me that,” I growled, taking a turn for the elevators. Cathy cackled, obviously aware of what had transpired in my father's office.
“You should go,” she whispered as soon as we walked into the elevator. “Really.”
I stared at her, my brows arched. “Are you being serious right now? What part of my father's treacherous plans are you a part of?”
She held up her hands on surrender, “Whoa, whoa, take it easy there comrade.” she chuckled.
“I knew for a fact your father had informed Nick to prepare for your arrival and a place to stay in Chicago. Trust your dad to be the master at getting what he wants.”
“Well, I can't always give him what he wants. What he wants is destroying my life. My goals. My future.”
“For heaven's sake, this company he's seeking out for in Chicago cannot be trusted! How can they possibly have a prototype for a project Sandstone Constructions is seeking to buy?”
“Did you just say Sandstone?” Cathy asked, her jaw dropped.
“Exactly. I hate The Raven more than my father does, but there are limits to the lengths we go to expert revenge.”
Cathy sighed, her exhale reverberating in the calm of the elevator's atmosphere. “Mr. Jones did lose a lot on that day,” she whispered, avoiding my gaze.
Flashes of a memory, year old, skidded across my mind, and I could feel my scarred heart erupting in pain. "I lost something too," I said bitterly.
The elevator doors chimed as it slid open, but it was too late for me to read the expression on Cathy's face when she pushed me so hard my back crashed against the elevator walls.
“Get down!” She yelled as she pulled out a pistol, her screams immediately countered by gunshots.
We were under attack.
Stacy's POV“Phew!” I exhaled loudly, a huge grin on my face as I waltzed back into Jennifer's office. “That was quite the deal!” I chirped, taking a seat opposite her. She laughed in response, her eyes following the wad of dollar notes I had received in exchange for a job well-done.“All it took was convincing the knucklehead you were the best to consult when it came to yummy bites,” she scoffed, turning her head to her work desk. I rolled my eyes in response.“Right, but that knucklehead over there, well he recommended me to another person! I had barely walked out of his office when I got a call.” I said, my voice now high-pitched. The day started out well, and it was all thanks to Jennifer. It made me wonder for a moment how things would have been different if she wasn't present, because she made most of the jobs that I have landed in the past a possibility. She has been my best friend since high school and made sure to stick around even when I hadn’t been the consistent friend.
THE NIGHTMAREElla tries to wriggle her hand free from where she laid buried, her little frame covered in splinters of wood, rubbles and fire. She steadies her breath, her demeanor calm and collected when she pries one of her hands free. In no time, she is out of the rubble, her forehead gashed with a deep cut.“Mom!” She called out, her tiny voice echoing as the night wind, chilly and unforgiving, caressed her battered skin. The mansion was torn apart, most of the rooms set on fire. Panic slowly crept up her throat. “Mom!”She yelled, her eyes trying to fight away tears.She turns around in circles, and she should hear a gunshot from somewhere. Instinctively, she ducked, afraid she was the only one in the building. She stopped in her tracks when she noticed drops of blood pooling a hair's length away from her feet. Her mind was telling her not to stare upwards, but she did.Her mother's face stared back at her, bloated, her body missing, blood still squirting from her neck.Ella scr
LOSTMabel was another maid in the mansion, but a sinister bond kept her close with Naomi. "Your outbursts are becoming more extreme by the day," Naomi said.Mabel growled, "watch it or I'd have to report you to the boss."Naomi chuckled, "Which one is it again? Our boss? Or Marcelo?"The question seemed to have caught Mabel off guard, because a flash of confusion clouded her expression. "And what do you mean by that?"“I can see your spirit is beginning to waver from the very mission that brought us here.” Naomi chuckled, grunting as she swat Mabel's aim at her forehead, rising to her knees, “I see how you stare at Marcelo, she spat, That brat!”“Anyway, you need not to worry. You can settle in this mansion and spend the rest of your life being a spy for whomever pays your bills. That's okay. But as for the rest of us who still have their heads in this game, we are not faltering.Naomi brushed past Mabel, shoving her hard against the wall. Mabel chuckled, holding back the urge to bre
Stacy's POV Just as every morning oozes with hope, a renewed strength and the reminder of a long day scouting for better opportunities, the evenings reminded me of home, my mom, her sweet buttermilk pancakes. The lousy atmosphere of the bustling city did little to infuriate me, no, and not even when the streetlights shone so bright.I swear I might develop a migraine, it didn't stop me from marching onwards, smiling. The day had ended well, and finally, I was about to take the first big leap into actualizing my goals.Jennifer had informed me earlier in the day that I should be called in for an interview in a few days, and despite my superior watching in on me closely at work, I couldn't help squealing in delight. I wore an extra smile for every plate I served, and my feets felt really floaty when I busted out the doors of the restaurant, eager to deliver the news to my room. I was about to take the right fork off an alleyway when I heard a muffled groan.It was no doubt a child's,
Marcelo's POVThe gates creaked open, but I had no patience in waiting to get to the end of the driveway. My head was pounding, my fists hungry for blood and vengeance, and that feeling was growing every passing second.I opened the doors of the car and jumped out of it, oblivious to the muffled shock of my driver and bodyguards. I could spot Ryan at the entrance of the house, his hands already holding on firm to the door knob. I pulled my gun out of the leathered holster lodged in my jacket and I narrowed for the mansion with a glare no one dared to defy. Two days, and my Ella has not been found?!“And what is this I'm hearing?” I asked Ryan as I walked past him, not stopping an inch as I stormed into the mansion. My men were already positioned all over the house as instructed, but it was hard to tell who amongst them was the traitor. My years of experience wasn't simply going to fish them all out.“Ella still hasn't been found, s-sir,” Ryan stuttered. “But we found something on t
Stacy's POV “Why are you asking me for my phone?” I asked, a brow raised. My mom looked like she had something to let out of her mouth, and when she took a seat close to the girl, I was surprised at how calmly she spoke.“We might have taken you into our home, and provided you with shelter, but do you think it's wise to call anyone out there right now? Plus, maybe someone is still after you and we don't even know your name! Or —"“My name is Ella Jones. I am eight.” The girl responded curtly, “now please, can you help me with your phone? I really need to call my brother right now. He could be in danger!”Her voice sounded urgent and afraid, and I didn't know what refusing her would make her do. I could tell my mom was asking me not to, but I already peeled my smartphone from my pocket and handed it over to her. I watched in awe as she navigated my phone, but I was even more shocked when I realized she was operating my phone without asking for my passcode. Just how did she do that?S
Marcelo's POVMy phone rang in my pocket, it was Cathy calling, probably worried about Ella too I thought as I picked it up. "Alright. So you got a call from Ella, and she was saved by ...""Some woman," I completed her statement, "Naughty Ella wasn't going to let me know her name until I came to pick her up.”Cathy laughed heartily. "No way! But ... does that mean you will be staying in with her? What about the —"“Cathy,” I growled, “we will have a problem if you're going to lecture me about my father's mission.” I could almost picture her raising her hands in surrender.“Roger that, sir.” She said teasingly, “but you know Rose is still out on the loose, and so is Naomi.”“We haven't figured out who pulled the trigger on Mabel, and don't you think Ella is safe back here in Bluestone?” Bluestone was a five hour drive and I knew I had to be on my way quickly.“No way! We just got attacked there by 'The Raven', remember?” I asked sarcastically, laying emphasis on Cathy's assumption.
Marcelo's POVI couldn't place what struck me as spectacular in her eyes, but it was suddenly hard to lower my gaze as soon as I saw her. Her eyes could be likened to a sea of honey, so viscous it's hard to swim out of. Her blond hair meandering down her shoulders, curly and messy, but it felt it was made to suit just her. I could trace the tiny spots of freckles on her cheeks, they were unnoticeable but you could only tell when you were just a finger-length away. For a moment, I couldn't make out Ella's words, and my eyes began to trail down her face to her lips —“Brother!” Ella whined, tugging at my arms, “wouldn't you step in already? You're keeping them waiting,” She said excitedly. I would have sworn it was me being delusional, but I felt her gaze linger on mine just for a while longer before I walked in. Many would die to have my shoes sitting on their doorstep, but she doesn't know who I am?For a moment, I was grateful Ella was there to snap me out of my thoughts. I sud