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Rude Awakening

I inhaled the scent of the man I decided to marry. Yes, I fully acknowledged the ridiculousness of that decision, but most of my half-conscious body and mind seemed to support it. What he had given me went beyond a physical encounter and beyond making love… It was something magical, something I had never experienced before. I felt precious in his arms, like a gem that needed to be treated with the utmost care. I had tasted emotions I never knew existed, even after being in a three-year relationship with a man who was supposed to love me. It was insane. I had sex for hours, taking a break only to eat a few snacks in bed and then continuing until our bodies were too exhausted to move. And I didn't even know Alex's last name! Somehow that knowledge seemed irrelevant because every second with him felt… right.

What if fate existed and brought us together? What if we were meant to be? As hilarious and unbelievable as it sounded, nothing in my life had ever felt as perfect as being together with that man, the man I had barely met.

A rather harsh throat-clearing sound forced me to open my eyes. I blinked a few times and realized I was lying in Alexander's bed alone. I jerked up to the sitting position and all but screamed as I saw a gray-haired man in a charcoal suit standing in the corner of the bedroom.

"I suggest you silence yourself, then gather your things and leave this hotel suite." That man's voice felt like a bucket of cold water in my face.

I closed my mouth and stared at him as my mind frantically collected pieces of the information. The man looked like he had spent his entire life serving at Buckingham Palace. Even his accent sounded British. His brows rose as he awaited my reaction, clearly irritated that I hadn't obeyed his demand at once. "Where's Alexander?" I finally managed, tightly covering myself with sheets.

The man drew a slow exhale and corrected thin-rimmed glasses. "You will not see our Young Master ever again. I was ordered to instruct you to never mention what happened between the two of you to anyone. Otherwise, his family—and I assure you, you don't want to mess with that family—will sue you and ruin you."

Annoyance exploded within me. "What is that even supposed to mean?! Do I look like a hooker to you?!"

One corner of his mouth twitched upward, and I quickly regretted asking that question. "However, Young Master told me to give you this as compensation for any inconvenience," he continued, reaching into his inner jacket pocket.

My blood began to boil, but just when I thought I couldn't be more humiliated, the man pulled out a check and threw it on the bed. "What the hell is this?!" I growled.

He shrugged. "Ten thousand dollars."

My hands fisted. "Ten thousand dollars?" I strained through my teeth, imagining shoving that check down that guy's throat.

A cold chuckle escaped him. "I believe that the amount reflects the value of your—"he looked me up and down—"services."

My mouth opened, but no words broke through the lump that grew down my throat. Suddenly, the sheets began to burn, wrapping me in a sickening feeling of being used. We made no promises to each other, but I thought that he would at least—

"I'll leave now and give you five minutes to get dressed. I want you gone when I return," he announced coldly before exiting the room.

I stared at the check for about three seconds and then lunged at it like a wild beast, tearing it into little pieces. "Screw you, Alex! And screw all male scumbags!" I roared.

Then I darted out of the bedroom, found my clothes, got dressed, and strode out of the Golden Suite, slamming the door behind me.

***

I sat on the bed in my hotel room, trying to conquer whatever was squeezing my windpipe and lungs. I couldn't even describe what I felt. Anger? Shame? Disappointment? Sadness? Everything at once?

Tears gathered in my eyes. My fragile heart wasn't ready to deal with another blow; I could barely keep it from falling to pieces after everything that had happened with Nicholas. God… I should have never let him kiss me! I should have jumped out of that swimming pool and gotten the hell away from him! I should have—

My phone rang. I sucked in a sharp breath, dug into my purse, and hurriedly swiped my finger through the screen. "You are now receiving a call from an inmate at Brooklyn House of Detention. Please wait while you are being connected."

I froze, staring at the screen and hoping it was just some sick joke. Then I heard a signal and a click, beginning the call. "Sarah?" I heard my foster brother's voice, and the blood in my veins heated.

"What did you get yourself into this time, Bram?" I hissed.

"Listen… um… You gotta help me," he started nervously. "I… I screwed up big time."

I drew a ragged breath. "I figured it when I heard you're calling from custody." I tried to remain calm, but I was failing.

"I need money, sister."

Dry laughter burst out of me. "Sister?! I believe I stopped being your sister last year when you gave the debt collectors my address so they could come and collect YOUR debt!"

"Sarah… I'm begging you! I promise that I will never ask you for anything again! I promise that I will disappear from your life, but you have to bail me out!" he cried.

I leaned back and blinked. That did not sound like my brother at all. I had never heard my brother crying. I had never seen my brother shaking and being scared… Never, until now. I let out a long sigh. "What did you do?"

I heard him swallow. "T-they arrested me for drug trafficking, but it wasn't like that, I swear!"

I rolled my eyes and almost chuckled. "So you're saying that they arrested an innocent man?"

"I…" He sucked in a breath. "I was dealing... but this was a mistake, and I was arrested with people who claim that it was my fault, and they want to hurt me, Sarah. I will die if I don't get out of here. Please…" His voice cracked.

I ground my teeth and closed my eyes for a moment. I couldn't believe I was even considering it, but there was a moment in my life—a brief one—when he acted like my brother, and I was his little sister. "How much do you need?" I strained through my throat.

"Ten thousand dollars."

I cursed under my breath. That ten thousand was clearly going to haunt me throughout the day. Now I began to regret tearing that damn check...

"Sarah?" Bram breathed out. "Please say that you'll help me."

An ironic smile formed on my lips. Ten thousand dollars were all the savings I had left. "You're not planning to escape the state or country as soon as I bail you out, are you?"

"No! Of course not!" he swore. I sincerely debated whether I should believe him or not. "But… I will need a lawyer later. Tell Nick that I—"

"We're not together anymore," I told him.

There was a pause. "What? Why? What did you do?"

I snapped. "What did I do?! Are you kidding me?!"

"Well, if he dumped you, it must have been your fault," he stated.

My hand fisted, and I wished I could punch him through the phone. "That's it. I'm hanging up."

"No! No, please, Sarah! I… I shouldn't have said that… I'm sorry." His pleading tone returned in an instant.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to draw a slow breath. "Bram... those ten thousand dollars are all I've got. I need that money to reapply to school. So don't even think of not showing up in court after I pay that bail."

"I swear on our father's grave that you will get your money back!" Relief filled every note of his voice. "You won't regret helping me."

My lips stretched into a bitter smile. Somehow, I was regretting it already…

***

Twelve hours later, I was sitting on the sofa, staring at the glass in my hand. I was no longer in Nassau but in Brooklyn, where the sky was covered in clouds, the temperature was lower by twenty degrees, and instead of Jarvis's sweet rainbow drink, I was now sipping Sauvignon Blanc bought in a supermarket downstairs.

Joy, my best friend in the entire world, was sitting in a chair in front of me. Her beautiful straight, black hair was tied in a messy bun, but that didn't make her permanent resting-bitch face any less intimidating. Her gently slanted dark chocolate eyes were fixed on me, and the Death Note tee she was wearing served as a subtle reminder of something she often told other people: Joy was not a name but a sarcasm. Yes, Joy Nakamura was not the girl anyone would want to have as an enemy. Fortunately, we loved each other like sisters… or so I hoped.

Her glass was already empty, and her deadly glare signaled that she would need more than one bottle to forgive me for my stupidity. I seriously debated getting up and buying another bottle that very second, especially since I was currently living in her apartment and she was quite unpredictable when she was angry.

"How could you trust that jerk?" She huffed and shook her head. "And ten thousand dollars? Seriously?"

I gave her a wry smile. "Just to be clear, are we talking about my brother or…?"

She frowned. "Of course we are talking about that cunt who dares to call himself your brother whenever he finds it convenient." She grabbed the wine bottle and poured herself another glass. "I would never judge you for sleeping with a hot guy, and you know that… even if he turns out to be a complete asshole afterward."

I sighed and gave her a wry smile. "Was I supposed to ignore Bram and hang up the phone? You know I can't do that. What if someone really killed him in that prison?"

She blinked a few times and gave me a meaningful look. "Normal people don't give others all their savings."

"I didn't give him my savings. I gave it to the authorities," I corrected. "And he swore that I will get my money back."

Her brows rose. "Did you tell him that this money will allow you to come back to art school and that it is freaking important to you?"

I nodded. "Yes, I told him about the school."

She leaned toward me. "Did he leave you his number so you could contact him?"

"Yes!" I threw my hands up and groaned in frustration. "He gave me his number!"

She put down the glass and folded her hands over her chest. "All right. Call him."

I stared at her for a second or two. "What?"

"Call him now and see what he is doing," she insisted.

Drawing a slow exhale, I picked his number and made the call. A moment passed, and I heard a message.

"We're sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service…"

"He gave you a burner phone number." Joy shook her head and let out a deep sigh. "I'm sorry, Sarah, but I bet that Bram is long gone."

My chest squeezed and my head began to spin. I raised my trembling hand with a glass and gulped all the wine left in it. "If Bram is gone… so is my money."

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AngryBird
Bram is an azzhole
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