By the time I reached the street, my name was trending.
I knew because strangers were already staring.
Some recognized me from the photos.
Others recognized humiliation when they saw it.
Phones lifted the second I stepped onto the sidewalk.
Recording.
Always recording.
Rain slid down my face, mixing with the heat burning behind my eyes. Across the road, giant digital screens wrapped around a building flashed financial news, stock prices, luxury ads—
And then my face.
A photo of me leaving Damian Vale's penthouse.
Hair messy. Dress wrinkled. Mouth parted in shock.
Below it, bold white letters screamed:
WHO IS DAMIAN VALE'S NEWEST MISTRESS?
Laughter burst somewhere behind me.
A woman in heels looked me up and down. "She doesn't even look expensive."
Her friends laughed harder.
I kept walking.
One foot in front of the other.
That was all I could manage.
My phone rang.
Hospital.
My stomach dropped.
I answered instantly. "Hello?"
"Miss Quinn?" a nurse said. "Your mother's payment deadline was yesterday. If the balance isn't cleared today, we'll have to suspend treatment scheduling."
The city noise blurred around me.
"Please," I said. "Just give me two more days."
"I'm sorry. I don't make the rules."
The line went dead.
I stood frozen in the rain while taxis rushed past and strangers kept filming me like I was tonight's entertainment.
Two more days.
I had exactly twelve dollars in my bank account.
And a pile of money still lying on Damian Vale's marble floor.
My throat tightened so hard it hurt.
No.
I would rather beg on the street than crawl back to him.
My phone buzzed again.
Unknown number.
I almost ignored it, then answered.
"What?"
A low male voice replied, calm and precise.
"Mr. Vale asked me to inform you that your apartment lease has been terminated."
I stopped walking.
"What?"
"The property owner received a better offer this morning."
Cold spread through my chest.
"That's illegal."
"Take that up with the property owner."
The call ended.
I stared at the screen.
Then I laughed.
A broken, ugly sound.
Of course.
Why ruin one part of my life when he could ruin all of it?
My apartment building smelled like damp walls and old cooking oil.
Mrs. Harper, the landlady, stood in the doorway with folded arms when I arrived.
"You should've told me what kind of girl you were," she snapped before I even spoke.
"I paid rent late twice, not never."
"You brought scandal here."
"I brought scandal?" I repeated.
She pointed to her phone. On the screen was another headline.
POOR GIRL TRAPS BILLIONAIRE, GETS THROWN AWAY BY MORNING
Something inside me went still.
"I need one week," I said quietly.
"You need to leave tonight."
She stepped aside.
My two suitcases were already outside.
My clothes stuffed into black trash bags.
My books half-soaked from the rain.
I stared at them.
Then at her.
"You went through my things?"
"I protected my property."
I should have screamed.
Should have cursed.
Should have thrown something.
Instead, I bent down and picked up the framed photo of my mother and me from the pavement.
The glass was cracked straight through our faces.
Somehow, that hurt most.
Night had fallen by the time I dragged my bags to the bus station.
My arms ached.
My feet were blistered.
My pride was bleeding out in places no one could see.
The waiting area was crowded and smelled like wet clothes and exhaustion.
I sat in a plastic chair, clutching my bags, trying to think.
Hospital debt.
No home.
No job.
My boss had texted earlier:
Don't come back. We can't be associated with this mess.
I had lost everything in less than twelve hours.
A shadow fell across me.
I looked up sharply.
A little girl, maybe six years old, stood there holding a wrapped sandwich.
"My mom said you look hungry," she whispered.
Behind her, a tired woman offered me a gentle smile.
For one terrifying second, kindness almost broke me.
"Thank you," I managed.
The girl placed the sandwich in my hand and ran back.
I stared at it for a long time before taking a bite.
It was the first thing anyone had given me all day that didn't come with a price.
My phone buzzed again.
Another unknown number.
I nearly threw it away.
Instead, I answered.
"What now?"
Silence.
Then Damian Vale's voice.
Deep. Smooth. Unbothered.
"Have you learned anything today?"
My grip tightened around the phone.
"Yes," I said.
A pause.
"And what was that?"
"That monsters don't always hide their faces."
For the first time, he was silent.
Then he spoke softly.
"Come back, Serena."
My heart pounded with rage.
"Why?"
"Because this city belongs to me."
I looked around the filthy station. At the sleeping men on benches. At mothers rocking crying babies. At workers too tired to stand.
Then I thought of his glass tower cutting through the clouds.
"No," I said.
His tone cooled.
"Be careful what you refuse. Pride is expensive."
"So is revenge."
I ended the call.
My hands shook for a full minute afterward.
Then I opened my notebook.
Tore out the first blank page.
And wrote one sentence across the center in black ink.
Damian Vale will lose everything.
I underlined it twice.
Then smiled for the first time that day.