Chapter 3

Nova's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she leaned forward, her voice taking on a gentle, probing tone. "Sara, can you tell me why you left Franklin's company? You were one of our top performers, and we were sad to see you go."

Sara's gaze flickered to Franklin, who was watching her with an amused smirk on his face. She felt a surge of discomfort as she realized he was enjoying her discomfort. Nova's question hung in the air, waiting for an answer, but Sara's mind was frozen.

Just as she was about to speak, Sara felt a sudden, jolting sensation. Franklin's hand had slipped under the table, his fingers wrapping around her thigh. Sara's eyes widened in shock as she felt his hand caressing her skin, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

But it wasn't a gentle touch. Franklin's fingers dug deep into her thigh, his grip tightening like a vice. Sara flinched, her body jerking away from the painful pressure. She felt a wave of panic wash over her, her heart racing with fear.

Franklin's smirk never wavered, his eyes glinting with amusement as he continued to hold her thigh in a crushing grip. Sara's eyes darted to Nova, hoping against hope that she would notice something was wrong. But Nova's expression remained serene, oblivious to the horror unfolding beneath the table.

Just as Franklin's grip on Sara's thigh was becoming unbearable, a young woman walked into the room, carrying a tray with two steaming cups of coffee. Sara's eyes lit up with a plan, and she forced a bright smile onto her face, pretending that everything was fine.

The woman set the cups down on the table, and Sara's hand shot out, grabbing one of the cups. Before anyone could react, she hurled the scalding hot coffee directly at Franklin's pants.

Franklin let out a loud yelp as the hot liquid splashed onto his lap, and Nova's eyes widened in shock. "Oh my god, Sara, what are you doing?" Nova exclaimed.

Sara's smile never wavered, but her voice took on a cold, icy tone. "I'm helping Mr. Franklin to get down his horniness," she said, her words dripping with sarcasm. "It's a little something I like to call 'coffee therapy.'."

Nova's face turned bright red with anger, but Sara just laughed, a cold, mirthless sound. "You know what, Nova? Your company may be big, but you're stupid. You're marrying this man, who thinks every girl is his toy, just because they work under him. That's the reason I left my old job, and it's better for you if you run from him too."

With that, Sara grabbed her file and bag and stood up, her eyes flashing with defiance. "I don't think I'll be needing this job after all," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "I'd rather die than work for a company that tolerates this kind of behavior."

And with that, Sara turned on her heel and walked out of the office, leaving Nova and Franklin staring after her in shock.

****

Sara walked down the sidewalk, her feet carrying her on autopilot, her mind a thousand miles away. The disappointment and frustration of the job interview still lingered, making her feel lost and uncertain about her future.

Just as she was starting to lose all hope, her phone rang, shrill and insistent. She hesitated for a moment before answering, her heart skipping a beat as she saw her mother's name on the caller ID.

"Hello, Mom," Sara said, trying to sound cheerful despite the turmoil brewing inside her.

"Salam, Sara," her mother replied, her voice firm and strict. "How are you, dear? I was just thinking about you and wondering how your job search is going."

Sara hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "It's going, Mom," she said vaguely. "I've had a few interviews, but nothing's panned out yet."

Her mother's voice was unyielding. "Sara, you need to find a job soon. If you can't find one, then you'll have to come back home. And if you come back home, then you'll get married. We've already found a suitable husband for you."

Sara felt like she'd been punched in the gut. A suitable husband? Chosen by her parents, without her input or consent? It was a nightmare come true.

"Mom, I don't want to get married yet," Sara said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm not ready."

Her mother's tone turned icy. "You'll do as you're told, Sara. If you can't take care of yourself, then you'll have to come back home and let us take care of you. And that means getting married. Do you understand?"

Sara felt a wave of fear wash over her. She knew that her mother would not be swayed, that she would do everything in her power to ensure that Sara did as she was told.

"Yes, Mom," Sara said, trying to sound resigned. "I understand."

Her mother's voice was firm and final. "Good. I expect to hear from you soon. If you don't have a job, then you'll be coming home. And if you come home, then you'll be getting married. That's final."

Sara hung up the phone; she felt a wave of despair wash over her. She couldn't believe her mother was still trying to control her life, still trying to dictate her every move. The thought of being forced into a marriage with some man her parents had chosen for her was suffocating.

"Why can't they just let me live my own life?" Sara thought to herself, feeling a surge of frustration and anger. "Why can't they trust me to make my own decisions?"

She thought back to the conversation she had just had with her mother and how her mother had made it clear that she had no choice but to come back home and get married if she didn't find a job. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

"What am I going to do?" Sara thought, feeling a sense of desperation creeping in. "I don't want to go back home; I don't want to get married. But what choice do I have?"

****