Daphne’s POVIt’s safe to say I officially hate Mr. Hawthorne. Just like his name, he's a thorn in my life—a constant source of misery I can’t wait to be rid of. He doesn’t even try to hide his hatred for me, and I’m sure he’d go to any lengths to kick me out of Café Luxe.The problem is, I’m supposed to impress him. But honestly, I’m so over that stage of my life. The days of constantly seeking validation from others are behind me. But I was so done, and if he doesn't like me, I give zero fucks, he can shove it up his ass. Just kidding... Who am I? I need this job even if it means impressing that ‘Thorn.”But God, does he get on my very last nerve.I was taking a short break, trying to breathe and relax for a moment, when he came outside his office. Without even looking directly at me, he makes a pointed comment. “I don’t pay you people to sit around like this is your father’s kingdom.” Laughter echoes around me from my so-called colleagues. Of course, they couldn’t hide how much th
When that ‘Thorn’ said he’d be watching me like a hawk, he meant buisness. Because tell me why his visits have become more frequent since then, and even the staff here are shocked by his sudden appearances. Some have worked here for years without ever seeing him in person. So, I'm wondering, "What the heck?"It’s like he’s taken this grudge personally, and he’s not coming alone. His devilish spawn of a daughter always tags along. I swear, that girl takes pleasure in creeping me out, standing there and staring at me like I’m some sort of experiment. Who do they think they are? Father and daughter — both after my life.“Hey, can you give this paperwork to Mr. Hawthorne? I need to go quickly,” my colleague Lucy says, thrusting a stack of papers into my hands. The office is practically empty except for me, her, and the night watchman. I wasn’t in a rush to head back to the camp either. The only thing waiting for me there was Maryam.“But—”“Please? It’s an emergency!” Lucy pleads, already
“Uh… around the West Union axis,” I say, my voice faltering slightly. His brow furrows, and I can sense the question forming in his mind. The West Union area was known for little more than a market square and an organization building—definitely not somewhere you'd expect someone like me to be headed at this hour. But, thankfully, he doesn’t push any further. I’m relieved.The rain picks up, drumming harder against the windshield, transforming from a gentle shower into a relentless downpour. It’s almost impossible to see the road ahead. “Shit,” he mutters, pulling over to the side. The smell of leather from his car and the intoxicating blend of his scent invades my senses, wrapping around me like an invisible blanket. It’s... overwhelming, almost intoxicating. The silence between us grows, thick with tension. I shift in my seat, hyper-aware of every breath, every beat of my heart. The rain outside beats in rhythm with my pulse, and I can’t shake the feeling of being trapped—not by th
Feeling the pressure in my bladder, I slowly open my eyes, squinting against the blinding light filtering through the windshield. I blink several times, trying to adjust. The rain has stopped, but the cold lingers in the air, biting at my skin. Glancing at the dashboard, I notice it’s 4:52 a.m. The clouds still hang low, dark and heavy from the earlier rainfall, but the world feels eerily still.Careful not to disturb him, I sit up slowly. He’s still asleep, one arm draped lazily over his eyes as if shielding himself from the world. For a moment, I watch him, feeling a pang of guilt for slipping away so silently, knowing he had good intentions. But I shake it off. I need to get back. I gently push open the car door, every creak sounding louder than it should. I gather my clothes, making sure not to make a sound, and quietly alight from the car. The air is sharp and cold against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. I glance back one more time before walking away, heading towards
"I'm so sorry, it won’t happen again," I say, my voice barely above a whisper as I stare at my feet, shame prickling at my skin."Don't tell me that. That’s what you always say," Paula snaps, it is quite obvious she is in a sour mood today. I can feel her eyes burning holes into me, and though it's not entirely my fault, I can't bring myself to argue. I overslept."Get to work," she orders with a dismissive wave of her hand, and I move quickly, the weight of my exhaustion pressing down on me like a heavy blanket. All day, I feel sluggish, and waves of nausea ripple through me. I force it down, clutching at my stomach when no one is looking. ****Later******The evening rush has hit, and the café is swarming with customers. The hustle and bustle makes my head spin, but I keep pushing forward, the thought of the weekend barely enough to keep me going. ‘Tomorrow’, I tell myself. Tomorrow I can rest. Or maybe not—I still need to search for another job. We need extra income, and our savin
“Mr… Mr. Hawthorne,” Paula stammers, visibly terrified by the fury blazing in his eyes. Heck, even I’m trembling. This is it, I am done for—I can as well kiss this job goodbye.“Thank God you're here,” the man sneers, his face contorting with disgust as he glances back at me. “This incompetent fool spilled coffee on me.”“I… I—” I try to explain, to say anything in my defense, but my voice is caught in my throat, choking on the overwhelming feeling that no one cares. I want to scream, to shout, but the weight of the moment silences me. The tears that have been brimming finally spill over, hot and uncontrollable.“Stop making matters worse,” Paula cuts in hastily, her voice a sharp whisper. “I’m so sorry, sir. We’ll compensate for this—”“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice trembling, eyes fixed on the floor as tears continue to fall. “Please… forgive me. I can’t lose this job. I’ve tried so hard.” My voice cracks, the vulnerability creeping in more than I intended. But I couldn't help it,
One thing I respect about him is that he never pushes—he respects boundaries. I think he must’ve noticed the hesitation on my face because he didn’t press me further. “Th… thank you,” I murmur, watching him stand up, his broad back retreating toward the desk. Cocky bastard. He doesn’t even bother turning around as he waves me off dismissively. Why is he even here today? He hardly shows up. God knows what might’ve happened if Mr. Hawthorne hadn’t walked in when he did. I shudder at the thought. The rumors would’ve been endless—my haters would’ve had a field day. At least I was validated this time, but it still feels like I narrowly dodged something worse.As I walk out of the office, I head straight for my usual spot. Geez, I’ve got so much to tell Maryam about her so-called "MCM." That’s what she calls him. Every time I complain about Thorn, she brushes me off, saying, “But he’s hot, so everything he does is valid,” As if good looks justify everything.Her favorite line? “There’s a
Upon reaching the camp, there wasn’t much to do, so I stretched my limbs and decided to sort through my clothes. I rampaged through the mess, folding and rearranging, though it was more of an excuse to keep my hands busy. The thing about being alone is that unwanted thoughts start creeping in, uninvited. The memories I claim to have buried, the people I say I’ve forgotten—none of it is true. They always crawl back into my mind, haunting me like shadows that refuse to disappear.I thought about the first day I returned home. Richard, the butler, had opened the door. His eyes had widened with shock, his lips parting as though he was unsure if he was seeing a ghost. Maybe he recognized me, but at that moment, I didn’t recognize him. His face was a blur, a distant piece of a life I had long abandoned. He scurried away, most likely to inform them that their long-lost daughter had returned.“My God, Claire!” my mother gasped when she saw me. Her hand flew to her chest, tears spilling from
Daphne’s POVWalking down the street, tossing rocks at my feet, I tried to convince myself I was doing better. But then, everything came crashing down yet again. I refused to let it break me, even though everything about Sebastian affected me in ways I didn’t want to admit.I hailed a taxi and got in. I was back in the same cycle I swore I’d moved on from, relying on others to make myself feel worthy. Maybe it was time to seriously reconsider seeing a therapist. “Where to, ma’am?” the taxi driver’s voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me back to reality.“District Street,” I said, smiling to myself. For a second, I almost wanted to say, “Just drive.” It would have been such a heroine moment, like something right out of a movie. Instead, I gave him the address and leaned back, letting the scenery blur by.Before long, we arrived, and I thanked him, hopping out in front of the house. How much I missed it. Maybe I would go to the pub and meet up with James and Liv, I hadn’t seen the
Sebastian’s POV “Oh my God, Ella. Come here.” Just then, Daphne runs over to her.“Heyyy!” Maya’s voice pierces through the fog in my mind. The man turns to us, but before I can see his face clearly, he hurries away.They approach us, and Ella rushes to me with so much excitement, unaware of the dangers lurking in the shadows. “Daddy!”Maya immediately starts barking at Daphne, whose brows furrow in bitterness. “How could you be so reckless huh? Did you lose your brain cells in whatever hell hole you crawled from?”“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, Maya? Who do you think you are to question me?” Daphne snaps back.“Didn't you see it? How could you let her wander around like that? What if something had happened?” Maya challenged.“But nothing happened, did it? You were clearly putting meaning into things. The man you saw has a daughter Ella’s age and they had been playing together.” Daphne defended, shaking her head in disbelief. But that wasn't it, her attitude was becoming into
Sebastian’s POV“Dang it!” I throw my phone across the couch as the phone rings with no answers yet again, I pace back and forth in the living room, with unease settling at the pit of my stomach.I came home to an empty house, every appliance turned off. I looked everywhere for them, and dread slowly overtook me as I wondered if something had happened to them. It felt like not a single soul lived in the silence of the house.But then, the estate watchman told me he saw Daphne with Ella, hailing a cab but he doesn’t know where they went.“Calm down, Seby. They’re alright,” Maya says, approaching me and placing a freshly manicured finger on my shoulder.I plop onto the couch, nodding, though I am anything but calm. “Did you hear him? A cab? My Ella in a fucking cab?? You don’t get it, Maya. Wait—hold on.” My eyes widen with a terrible realization dawns on me. I’ve completely forgotten about Daphne’s appointment. What if they’re at the hospital? For a split moment, guilt washes through m
It was already the next day, and I hadn’t done much except some minor chores while I anxiously awaited Ella’s return from school.When she finally burst through the door after school, her energy filled the space between us. We slipped into our daily routine, the kind of easy camaraderie that felt like a warm blanket. But as the afternoon wore on, the time moved very fast and I still hadn’t dressed for my appointment.After a quick shower, I stood in front of the mirror, dressed in a summer dress with a plunging V-line that showcased my cleavage. I brushed my hair, carefully applying a touch of makeup, but the reflection staring back at me made my stomach churn in a way I couldn’t quite articulate. Fresh tears stung my eyes, and I pressed a hand to my mouth, fighting the wave of despair washing over me.I hated the sight of myself with makeup, the way I looked so much like Claire. Memories, dark and suffocating, flooded my mind, dragging me back to a time I wished to forget. The tears
Ever since that day, Maya’s visits have become incessant and unannounced, each time a reminder of her hidden motives. She doesn’t even try to make it subtle at all. Her intentions are practically written in the way she watches me, the way her eyes linger a moment too long. It’s so obvious she has a scheme up her sleeve, a scheme I sense but can’t quite grasp. Yet, no one else seems to notice. Not even Sebastian. He thinks I’m overreacting, “acting indifferent,” as he calls it. But he doesn’t see what I see.Tonight, we’re all sitting around the dining table, pretending that Maya’s presence isn’t as invasive as it feels. I’m trying to focus on Ella’s laughter, her innocent smile as she picks at her food when Maya’s voice cuts through the moment like a knife. She’s eyes me and her tone dripping with a mix of faux concern and thinly veiled judgment.“Daphne Dear, don’t you think it would be better to cut those grapes in half for Ella?” Her lips curl in a practiced smile, but her eyes
“Are you even listening to me, Daphne? I don’t want you to get hurt.” Maryam’s voice echoed through the phone, her tone sharp with concern. “Don’t forget he’s still your boss. You work under him, and you can’t afford to jeopardize your position. I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again—this isn’t just about you anymore.”I sighed, gripping the phone tightly. “But—”“Ah, ah! No buts. I’m not saying Maya is a bad person, but you need to be careful, okay?”Her words stung because I knew she was right. The call was exactly what I needed, a grounding reminder to let things go and not think so deeply about it, especially if I didn’t want to dig myself an even bigger hole.After we hung up, I tried to calm my mind, but from upstairs, I could hear Maya’s booming voice, ringing out confidently, echoing through the walls. I closed my eyes, wondering if there was something more between her and Sebastian. She just seemed so… comfortable here. Comfortable with him. A bitterness crept up, one
As I set the dining table, I couldn’t help but watch them. They spoke and laughed together so easily. I’d never seen Sebastian this relaxed or happy with anyone before. There was something about Maya that I hated, though I wasn’t even sure why. Maybe it was jealousy, knowing she had the kind of life I had always dreamed of.Maya’s stories felt strange, like they were crafted to revolve around Sebastian and Ella. It was as if she wanted to make a point that she’d been part of their lives all along. I mean, who brings up how Ella once pooped four times in an hour? Who even remembers that? I could tell she was trying too hard, but a part of me needed to know more about her connection to them.After setting the table, I sat down, ready to eat, hoping I could blend in and not feel like an outsider in my own space.“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice sugary-sweet.“Uh… trying to eat?” I answered, feeling like her question was absurdly obvious.She laughed lightly. “I know, smarty pan
“No, that way!” Ella’s giggles rang out, filling the room as I tried to focus on her voice. She bumped into my legs, making me trip over the couch. It was the weekend, which meant Ella was home all day, and we were currently playing hide and seek. I was blindfolded, trying to follow her playful laughter.“Wait until I get my hands on you!” I yelled, spreading my arms wide as I tried to catch her.“Oops!” she laughed, clearly enjoying the game as I reached out and grabbed something… a lamp.“Try again!” she teased, her laughter echoing in the room. Determined, I lunged forward, only to grab something solid and unfamiliar. My fingers ran over the surface, trying to make sense of the shape. Strangely, Ella had gone silent.“E… Ella?” I called, but she didn’t respond.Suddenly, the object moved. I gasped, quickly yanking off my blindfold—only to come face to face with Sebastian.My eyes widened. I’d caught a faint whiff of his scent earlier, but I thought I was just imagining things. Ever
It had been two days since Sebastian left for Japan. The moment he landed, he called to let us know he’d arrived safely and to wish us goodnight. Hearing his voice was a comfort, but the house felt emptier without him.Ella and I spent our days reading together and working on her assignments. She was such a smart girl—often, she ended up teaching me things about her schoolwork. I found it heartwarming, seeing how eager she was to learn and share her knowledge.That evening, I was stirring a pot of onion soup I had decided to make for her. I wanted to surprise Ella with something different, something that wasn’t part of our usual routine. The rich aroma filled the kitchen, and I couldn’t help but feel pleased with my little experiment.My phone buzzed. It was a text from Mr. Hawthorne.**Mr. Hawthorne:** You look scrumptious in those pants. Want me to take them off? I bet you’d look better. 😉A ridiculous smile spread across my face as I read his message, feeling like an absolute fool