Nancy had always known Cynthia was persistent, but today was something else entirely. Sitting in the elegant café, she sipped her lukewarm coffee, barely paying attention to its taste. Cynthia sat across from her, radiating the confidence of someone who had already won a battle before it even began.“Nancy, don’t be so stubborn,” Cynthia urged, her painted lips curving into a persuasive smile. “I’m only looking out for you. Moving back to our hometown would be the best decision for both you and your daughter.”Nancy exhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around the coffee cup. “I told you, Cynthia. I’ll think about it.”Cynthia’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction, mistaking Nancy’s neutral response for agreement. “That’s all I wanted to hear.” She leaned back, flicking her silky hair over her shoulder. “You’ll see, Nancy. Once you’re back home, everything will fall into place. You could even marry a wealthy man, become a CEO’s wife, and finally have the
Mr. George’s lips pressed into a thin line as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the polished wood of his desk. His chest tightened with frustration. The news had been a bitter pill to swallow—Nancy had baked all that bread with her own hands, yet she hadn’t even set aside a piece for him.And to make matters worse, his right-hand man had only added fuel to the fire.“Mr. Anthony got to taste the bread Nancy made with her own hands,” the man had said, almost casually. “He was gloating about it. Said it was the best bread he ever had.”George had clenched his jaw at the time, his hands tightening into fists beneath the desk.And then, as if to mock him further, Anthony himself had strutted in, looking far too pleased with himself.“That bread was exquisite, Mr. George,” Anthony had said with a grin. “Nancy really outdid herself.”George had barely managed to keep his composure, masking his jealousy behind an indifferent nod. But the words burned.Now, alone in hi
Mr. George was still grappling with the fact that Nancy had never given him anything before. She had only given him stars—her radiant smile, her warm presence—but never a tangible gift. So, when he saw her entering his office, his eyes lit up with expectation. His gaze flickered to her hands, scanning for anything she might have brought. But when he saw she wasn’t carrying anything, his expression fell, his excitement fading like a candle blown out by the wind.The next time she visited, however, she was holding a loaf of bread. Freshly baked, golden brown, and warm. The scent alone filled the room with an inviting aroma. Mr. George's face transformed in an instant—his eyes widened, a slow smile spread across his face, and his usual composed demeanor cracked into pure joy."This smells incredible," he murmured, reaching out eagerly as if the bread was a treasure he had longed for.Nancy chuckled, her cheeks slightly flushed. "My daughter and I made it together. She adores you, you kno
Nancy’s heart swelled with gratitude as she clutched the scholarship letter tightly in her hands. She blinked rapidly, struggling to hold back tears of joy. "Mr. George… I don’t even know how to thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.George simply smiled, though there was something hidden in his gaze—a warmth he hadn’t quite expressed before. "You don’t need to thank me, Nancy. Just do your best at work, and make sure your daughter excels in her studies," he said, his voice firm but kind.Nancy nodded eagerly. She turned to her daughter, Kayla, who was practically bouncing with excitement. "Mommy, I can’t believe it! I’m going to the best school in the whole city!" Kayla squealed, hugging her mother tightly.As Nancy smoothed down her daughter’s hair, she felt a sense of relief wash over her. She wouldn’t have to leave anymore. No more worrying about her daughter’s education. No more struggling to find a way out.Meanwhile, George observed them quietly, his jaw t
Cynthia’s fingers curled into tight fists as she paced the length of her bedroom, her nostrils flaring with resentment. The news had been like a dagger to her chest—Nancy’s daughter, Kayla, had been granted a full scholarship. A scholarship that her son, Bright, could have received if only fate had been kinder.Her lips twisted into a sneer. So, that little brat is going to stay in this city after all? Cynthia had spent months subtly pushing Nancy to leave—dropping hints, making her life harder, spreading small rumors. But now? Nancy had secured a future in this city.Cynthia exhaled sharply and stopped in front of the mirror, her dark eyes burning with anger. “I won’t let this happen,” she muttered under her breath, gripping the vanity table so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “If she won’t leave on her own, then I’ll make her.”Meanwhile, at school, Kayla and Bright were anything but friendly.Bright had been relentles
Kayla was outside playing with the other children, her laughter blending with the cheerful giggles of her classmates as they ran around the playground. The warmth of the afternoon sun bathed their small faces in a golden glow, and the crisp scent of freshly cut grass filled the air. It was break time—their brief moment of freedom before returning to the tedious lessons inside. Just as she was about to tag her friend Mia, a sharp, authoritative voice sliced through the air like a blade. "Everyone, settle down!" The teacher's voice boomed, sending an unsettling shiver through the students. "I’m going to the back to get your lunch boxes. Stay put!" The children immediately froze in their tracks, their excitement replaced by silent obedience. Kayla exchanged a quick glance with Mia, their small hands still hovering midair from their game. Something about the teacher’s tone made Kayla’s stomach twist. A few minutes passed, and then— A bloodcurdling scream erupted from inside th
Kayla's hands trembled as she clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She couldn’t believe what was happening. The teacher—someone who was supposed to be a role model, a protector—was hurling insults at her and her mother, calling them poor and accusing her of being a prankster. Her mother had always taught her to stand up for herself, but she never imagined she’d have to defend her mother’s honor in a place meant for learning. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not in front of this woman. Not in front of the students watching in silence, afraid to speak up. “You have no right to talk about my mother that way!” she said, her voice shaking with restrained anger. The teacher’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me? Are you raising your voice at me, you disrespectful child?” She took a step forward, looming over Kayla. “Do you even know who you’re talking to?” Kayla swallowed hard but stood her ground. “I know exactly who I’m talking to, and I also know
Kayla sat in the dimly lit office, her hands clenched tightly into fists on her lap. Her heart pounded so loudly it drowned out the ticking of the clock on the wall. Her dark brown eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. She had done nothing wrong. Nothing. Yet, here she was, being treated like a criminal. Across from her, Miss Bella Rodriguez, the school’s most feared teacher, stood with her arms crossed over her chest, a smug smirk curling her lips. Her perfectly manicured nails tapped against her elbow as she turned to the Headmaster, an aging man with sharp, disapproving eyes. “She’s a troublemaker,” Bella spat venomously, flicking her gaze toward Kayla with a sneer. “A menace to the school, a bully, and an embarrassment to our prestigious institution. We cannot allow a girl like her to remain here, tarnishing our reputation.” Kayla felt her stomach churn with anger, but she bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from lashing out. She lifted he
Nancy sat on the edge of the bed, her heart still thudding from her daughter’s unexpected words. Find a prince of your own, Mommy.It wasn’t the first time her ten-year-old had said something like this. In her little girl’s innocent world, happy endings were simple: a prince and a princess fell in love and lived happily ever after. But for Nancy, real life wasn’t a fairytale. She had convinced herself that she was fine without a man, that she didn’t need love to complete her life.Yet, her daughter’s words echoed in her mind, lingering like an unshakable shadow. Was she really okay? Or was she just pretending?A notification pinged on her phone, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was a message from George.George: Room 605. Urgent. Bring the contract.Nancy hesitated before replying. Working late hours wasn’t new to her, and meeting George alone in his hotel suite wasn’t something she found unusual. But tonight, she felt… unsettled. Maybe it was her daughter’s words, or maybe it was
Cynthia’s heart ached with every failed attempt. No matter how hard she tried, nothing seemed to get his attention. She had poured herself into making every possible effort, hoping that somehow, he would see her, desire her, and give her the attention she craved. But all her attempts were in vain. He didn’t even spare her a glance anymore, let alone the affection she so desperately sought. Every time she thought there might be a chance, it was always snatched away, leaving her feeling smaller, invisible.Her eyes flickered to the clock. He was leaving. And she could feel that it was happening again—another moment, another chance slipping away. But Cynthia wasn’t going to let him walk out without her.She had never been one to simply step aside and let things happen. This was her chance, and she wasn’t going to let it slip through her fingers like everything else had. As she watched him grab his jacket, preparing to leave, the cold knot of desperation twisted in her stomach. Without th
Cynthia paced back and forth in her bedroom, her hands clenched into fists. Frustration twisted her features, her lips pressed into a tight line as she tried to steady her breathing. Nothing was going as planned. Every single move she made seemed to backfire, and worst of all, George remained indifferent to her struggles.She had expected him to help her, to show even the slightest bit of favor, but he had done the exact opposite. He was distancing himself from her—cold, detached, and completely uninterested.Her jaw tightened at the thought of Hassan, the boy who had been nothing but a nuisance. He was her son, yes, but his existence did nothing but remind her of the biggest mistake of her life. Instead of being a bridge between her and George, he was more of a barrier, refusing to listen to her and always ruining things for her. He wasn’t even making an effort to help his mother win George’s heart.Yet, Cynthia had been stunned when George had come to her with a request—a custody ag
Cynthia’s chest tightened the moment she heard Nancy’s name. Could it be the same Nancy? Her mind raced, trying to piece things together.No. It can’t be. There were thousands of women named Nancy. This had to be a different one.Still, unease coiled inside her like a snake. She couldn’t ignore the possibility.And then, Anthony dropped the bombshell.Nancy was the lawyer handling their case.A sharp jolt shot through Cynthia’s body.Her grip tightened around the edges of the agreement. Her fingers dug into the paper, creasing it, but she barely noticed.She had spent years ensuring that no one—no one—knew about her arrangement with George. And now, Nancy of all people was going to find out?Her throat dried up. Her heart pounded against her ribs.Panic swirled in her gut, but she masked it with a soft, almost uncertain laugh.“Oh, a lawyer named Nancy?” she said lightly, forcing a small smile. “Well, there’s no need to call her. This is a personal matter, and I think it’s best we kee
Cynthia’s hands trembled as she clutched the custody agreement in front of her, her knuckles turning white from the pressure. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, sending waves of rage coursing through her veins. Her eyes darted across the words on the paper, and with each passing second, the meaning of George’s actions sank deeper into her consciousness.Her breathing grew uneven. “Honey…” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, trying to mask the panic in her tone. She forced a smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “Can we… Can we talk about this? You don’t have to do this, please.”George sat across from her, his expression calm, unreadable, as if he had already anticipated her reaction. He exuded the kind of indifference that made her stomach churn with frustration. He leaned back in his chair, fingers interlocked, staring at her with a look so impassive that it sent chills down her spine.Cynthia swallowed hard. “You can’t expect me to—”“To take responsibility for you
George’s jaw tightened as Nancy’s words echoed in his head. “My ex-husband is actually better than you.”He had laughed it off at first, convincing himself she was joking, but the way she constantly compared him to that man, mentioning him so casually, gnawed at him. It wasn’t just once. It was again and again, always referring to him as her ex-husband instead of just his name. George had never met this man, yet he was being measured against him like some unworthy competition.And when he finally gathered the courage to ask Nancy outright if she truly believed her ex-husband was better, she had simply fallen asleep, leaving him with his thoughts and a dull ache in his chest.But that wasn’t the only storm brewing in George’s life.The next morning, as he walked into his office, Mr. Anthony’s face was tight with concern. He handed George a tablet.“I think you need to see this,” Mr. Anthony said, his voice grave.George took the device, his stomach twisting into knots. The footage play
Nancy stormed into the Birdman Bar, her heart pounding with rage and desperation. She had come here for a confrontation, ready to demand justice for her daughter, but instead of the people she had expected to see, only Mr. George was inside.She frowned, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the nearly empty room. The other people present informed her that the meeting had already ended, leaving only George behind. That only fueled her frustration."Are you kidding me?" she hissed, her hands clenching into fists. "I came here to demand answers, not to be dismissed like an afterthought!"George, leaning back in his chair with an air of calm control, watched her with a raised brow. "Nancy, I understand that you're upset, but yelling at me won't change what happened."Nancy scoffed. "You have no idea how upset I am!" She took a shaky breath before speaking again. "The worst part is, I don’t even know who did it. But I do know this—my daughter and that boy had the same bags, and they were swit
Nancy wasn’t joking when she found out that her daughter wasn’t feeling well. In fact, she had already suspected something was wrong the moment she saw Kayla standing outside the school gates. The little girl wasn’t her usual lively self. Her shoulders were slumped, her lips pressed into a thin line, and there was a distant, almost vacant look in her brown eyes.Nancy had dismissed it at first, assuming Kayla was just exhausted from a long school day. But something gnawed at her, a mother’s instinct whispering that this was more than just tiredness. Still, she didn’t press too hard on the drive home.The silence in the car was unnerving. Kayla wasn’t the type to sit quietly for too long, yet she barely responded to Nancy’s attempts at small talk. Even when asked, “Kayla, is everything okay?” the girl simply forced a weak smile and muttered, “Yes, Mom, everything is fine… I just had too many lectures today.”Nancy’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. Too many lectures? That was a fl
After the encounter with the teacher, everything moved so fast that Kayla could hardly believe what was happening. For the first time, she was vindicated—by Mr. George, no less. No one had ever stood up for her like that before.All her life, she had been bullied, not just at school but even in their neighborhood. People looked down on her and her mother, mocking them for their financial struggles. Her mother had always tried to protect her, standing up for her whenever she could, but Kayla knew deep down that her mother could only do so much.But now… now she had Mr. George on her side. The way he had defended her today—it felt like, for the first time, she had a father figure looking out for her. That thought made her chest tighten with emotions she didn’t quite understand. It was strange, almost comforting, to think of Mr. George that way.Still, she wasn’t entirely happy. She didn’t like that her teacher, Ms. Bella, had been fired, even though the woman had brought it on herself.