Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Mia barely got any sleep that night. She tossed and turned, replaying the surreal encounter with Alexander Blackwell over and over in her mind. The way he’d looked at her, the arrogance in his tone, the absurdity of his offer-5,000 per date? It felt like a cruel joke, one meant to humiliate her.
But then the thought of the money would creep back in, unbidden. 5 thousand dollars. For three dates, that will be 15 thousand dollars. It was more money than she could hope to save in years at Casa Lounge.
15 thousand could pay for a lot, rent, food… It could be her fastest way out of Willowcrest.
Mia sat up in bed and groaned, running her hands through her hair. No. She shouldn’t even entertain the thoughts.
Whatever game Alexander Blackwell was playing, she wanted no part of it. That money might save her now, but taking money from a Blackwell will definitely come with strings she wasn’t willing to pull.
By morning, she was still exhausted but determined to stick to her decision. She trudged out of her tiny room and into the kitchen, hoping for some coffee to start her day. As she entered, she heard her sisters talking, their voices low.
“There’s no way it’s real,” Lily was saying, her tone dripping with skepticism.
“It could be,” Anna shot back, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “People are saying it all over town.”
“What’s going on?” Mia asked groggily, heading to the cupboard to grab a glass. “Where’s Mom?”
“Out. Probably won’t be back until God knows when,” Anna replied, not even sparing her a glance.
“You’re delusional if you think they’ve broken up.” Lily said, laughing. “Zoe would rather chew glass than break up with Blackwell.”
Mia froze, her hand clutching the glass tightly.
“Or maybe he broke up with her,” Anna said with a sly smile.
Lily snorted. “Oh my God, Anna, don’t tell me you’re still holding onto the hope that you’ll get him one day. It’s embarrassing at this point.”
Mia turned slowly, her stomach sinking as she listened to the exchange.
“I’m not delusional!” Anna snapped. “And you’re one to talk. At least I tried. Unlike you, who’s too busy chasing any rich guy who gives you a second glance.”
“Tried’ is an understatement,” Lily said, cackling. “Walking around naked in the Blackwell mansion three days after you were employed? Please. That was pathetic.”
Anna’s face flushed, and she opened her mouth to retort, but Lily kept going.
“Face it, Anna. We’re Turners. The Blackwells doesn’t even look at us like we’re human. They hate our family’s existence.”
“Whatever,” Anna huffed, crossing her arms.
Mia forced herself to move, walking to the sink to pour herself some water. Her hands were shaking, and she prayed neither of them would notice.
HmmOnce inside, she grabbed her phone from the nightstand and immediately opened the Willowcrest Morning News. There, staring back at her in bold letters, was the headline:
**Alexander Blackwell and Zoe Harrington Call It Quits.**
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Chapter 4
Mia’s heart raced as she read the article. Zoe had confirmed the breakup in an interview the night before, saying they’d decided to take a “break” to focus on themselves. The tone of the article was suspicious, though, hinting at drama behind the
scenes.
Mia put the phone down and leaned against the wall, her mind spinning. Was this why he’d approached her? Because he was single now and needed someone to… what? Fill the void? Become part of his ridiculous games?
She shook her head.
She couldn’t let herself get sucked into whatever madness was going on.
Just then, her phone buzzed in her hand. The notification made her stomach drop. She hesitated for a moment before looking at the screen.
The message was from an unknown number.
Good morning, Turner. Don’t bother asking how I got your number. My offer still stands: three dates, 5,000 for each one. You have three days to decide.
Mia stared at the message, her heart pounding in her chest. Her fingers trembled as she read it again. She could practically hear his voice in the text, that cool, arrogant tone that told her he was used to getting exactly what he wanted.
For a moment, she considered deleting the message, pretending it never existed. But instead, she sank onto the edge of her bed, clutching her phone tightly.
Fifteen thousand dollars.
Her mind raced with possibilities. She could finally afford to leave Willowcrest, start fresh.
But then the image of Alexander Blackwell’s smirk flashed in her mind, and anger bubbled to the surface.
Three days