Chapter 2

ERICA

As I rushed down the street, my heart pounded—not from exhaustion, but from fear. A sleek black car had been trailing me for the past few blocks. At first, I thought I was just being paranoid—maybe it was just another car heading in the same direction. But after three turns, each more random than the last, it was still there. I glanced back again, trying to act casual, but my palms were already clammy.

Who would be following me? My mind raced through possibilities—was it someone from work? A random creep?

The car slowed down slightly as I crossed the street, its headlights washing over me like a spotlight. The feeling of being watched crawled under my skin. “Okay, Erica, breathe,” I muttered under my breath. “If it’s still there tonight, I’ll call the cops.”

I picked up my pace, eager to get to work, hoping that once I stepped inside the restaurant, the world would feel a little safer. But the lingering sense of dread coiled tight in my stomach.

I rushed through the crowded street, heart pounding as my phone rang for the third time. It was a number I didn’t recognize, but I already knew who it was. The creditors. Again. My dad had been in debt for a while, and I knew my sister and I would have to clean up his mess.

“Damn it,” I muttered, silencing the call. The rent would soon be due, the bills were piling up, and my father’s debts were choking the life out of me. But I had no choice—I needed every cent. If I didn’t pay by next week... I didn’t even want to think about the consequences. They’d probably sell every little thing we owned to get back their money.

I pushed through the doors, trying to shove the thoughts away, but they clung to me like a second skin. The restaurant was buzzing, packed with customers. The air was thick with the mouthwatering smell of fast food, endless chatter, clanging dishes, and sizzling from the grill.

I barely had time to clock in before Giny barked out orders from the kitchen.

“Erica, table six is waiting!” she hollered over the noise, not even sparing me a glance.

I grabbed a tray of burgers and fries and plastered on my well-rehearsed smile as I weaved through the crowded tables. My feet ached, and my body screamed for a break, but I couldn’t afford to slow down—not today. Not when I had to face my boss soon, and certainly not with the pile of bills waiting for me at home.

I approached an elderly man seated near the window, the only moment of calm in the storm. His face was gentle, his smile warm, and for a second, I felt a flicker of normalcy.

“Here you go, sir,” I said with forced cheeriness. “I hope you enjoy your meal.”

He smiled back, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners. “Thank you, dear.”

I turned to leave when Giny’s sharp voice cut through the din. “Erica, take the grill duty. Sandy’s taking over waiting.”

I froze for a second, frustration bubbling beneath my calm exterior. “You know I’m supposed to be off the grill today, right? I don’t want you pulling me back just as I’m about to end my shift with the excuse that I didn’t wait tables today.”

Giny raised a brow, her tone as obnoxious as ever. “Forty minutes won’t kill you, Erica. Stop whining about it.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could, Taylor—my best friend—chimed in. “Hey, cut her some slack, Giny. Rica’s been working double shifts all week. She hasn’t slept!”

Giny rolled her eyes, not even bothering to hide her disdain. “Focus on those fries, Taylor. I’m not asking her to work an extra hour. She’ll live.”

I was about to snap back when a presence entered the kitchen that made the air feel like it had been sucked out of the room. Mr. Malcom, our boss, strolled in, his stomach protruding as if it could pop the buttons off his shirt at any moment. The entire kitchen quieted for a split second, tension filling the air before everyone resumed their tasks.

“Oh, good evening, Mr. Malcom,” Giny chirped, her tone suddenly sweet, her lashes fluttering like she was trying to impress him. It made my stomach turn.

Mr. Malcom’s eyes swept over the room before landing on me. “Erica, why aren’t you waitressing?”

“I was just about to—Giny switched my role with Sandy,” I replied, keeping my voice even though I felt like rolling my eyes at Giny’s desperate attempt to suck up.

His face twisted with irritation. “Hell no. Giny, you make such stupid decisions sometimes. Erica’s the best with the customers. Get Sandy in here and put Erica back out front.”

Giny’s face flushed with embarrassment, and I couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at my lips. For once, karma had worked in my favor.

“Thank you, sir,” I said, stepping forward, but something made me pause. My father’s face flashed before my eyes, his slurred words from last night echoing in my mind. He had demanded such an outrageous amount, and even though I knew I couldn’t give him that, it was best to hold a minimum amount of cash for any issue he’d bring to the table.

I swallowed hard and turned to Mr. Malcom. “Uh, sir? Can I ask you for a favor?”

His expression hardened instantly. “What now, Erica?”

“I—” I hesitated. The words felt heavy in my throat, but I pushed them out anyway. “I was hoping to get an advance on my pay. Just this once. I’ve got bills piling up, and—”

“Of course you do,” he interrupted, a sick smile spreading across his face. “That’s the problem with you, Erica. You always want to take and never give anything in return.”

My stomach churned as his eyes roved over me, undressing me with a sickening hunger. I felt a wave of nausea rise in my throat, but I kept my voice steady. “Please, sir, I just need the money. I’ve been working double shifts—”

He cut me off again, his tone darker now. “You know what to do if you want the money. I’m not running a charity.”

My pulse quickened, and the room felt like it was closing in around me. The audacity of this man—to demand I sleep with him for something I’d already earned. Anger bubbled in my chest, but I swallowed it down.

“I’m just asking for an advance, sir,” I said, forcing a polite tone. “Nothing extra, just what I’m owed.”

His expression darkened further. “You think I don’t have bills to pay, too? I’m not giving you anything unless you’re willing to... earn it.” He let the implication hang in the air, making my skin crawl.

I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to suppress the rising frustration. “Sir, I’ve worked hard—”

“If you’re that desperate, you know what to do,” he snapped, cutting me off again. “Otherwise, wait until the beginning of next month. Now get back to work.”

He stormed off, leaving me standing there, the weight of disappointment heavy in my chest. My fists trembled, but I forced myself to breathe.

“Just get through today,” I whispered to myself. “Just get through today, Erica.”

The rest of the shift blurred into a haze of orders, trays, and forced smiles. Every minute felt like an hour, the weight of the day pressing down on me like a lead blanket. By the time my shift finally ended, I ripped off my apron, grabbed my bag, and bolted for the door before anyone could call me back.

The air outside was crisp and cool, the night sky glittering with stars, but I barely noticed. All I could think about was the constant pressure—the bills, the debt, my father’s desperate pleas for money. I couldn’t breathe.

I started walking, the streets quiet around me. I didn’t have enough for a cab, so I figured I’d walk for a while before catching one closer to home.

By the time I finally reached my apartment, the moon was high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the building. I fumbled with my keys, the soft jingle echoing in the silence as I pushed open the door.

The darkness inside swallowed me whole.

“Lilibeth?” I called out, but there was no answer.

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Something wasn’t right.

“Why is the house so dark?” I muttered, reaching for my phone, only to remember it had died hours ago. “Lili!” I yelled again, my voice shaky.

Still nothing.

I moved cautiously through the dark, my hands outstretched, searching for the light switch. My foot crunched on something hard, and I froze. Glass?

I crouched down, my fingers brushing over shards of broken glass scattered across the floor. Panic surged through me, my heart racing as I quickly found the light switch and flicked it on.

And then I saw them—Lilibeth and my father, tied up, blindfolded, and gagged, with armed men standing over them.

“Welcome home, princess,” a cold voice whispered in my ear, and I felt the cold barrel of a gun press against my forehead.