Battling the Billionaire Demon
ed to them all. She will never forgive yo
n't believe him... Mom!" I screamed, my voice breaking in desperation. My mothe
dshot, burning with an unrecognizable intensity that sent chills down my sp
rt pounding wildly. Tears stung at the corners o
little to soothe the lingering dread in my chest. Wiping the tears away, I sat still, my bod
raordinary, yet the reality of my existence felt like trudging through quicks
nd jolted me out of my reverie, pulling me back into the present. The golden hues of the morni
voice growing closer, her footst
echanical and uncoordinated. My eyes, bloodshot from a sleepless ni
r before it swung open, revea
a weak smile. My voice cracked, betrayi
re you okay?" she asked, stepping into
e truth was buried too deep, tangled in a nightmare I could never dare to share. The
sensing the cracks in my facade. "Oh, my dearest, you know you can alway
begin to crumble. But no, I couldn't fall apart here. My mother had endured enough for the both of us. I was all she
roat. "I'm fine, Mom. Really. It's too early for all this w
t it go. "That's why I came to wake you up. It
as I grabbed my phone and saw the time glaring back at m
ath, tossing my phone onto the bed
shing away the noise of the world and grounding me in the present. But today, there was no time
my hair into a quick ponytail. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and fr
kfast for you," Mom cal
'm late, Mom. Just pack it up for me, please. I'll eat at w
pped closer, her warm gaze meeting mine. "Here it is. Have a go
naged a smile, fake, but enough to reassure her. "Th
did little to quiet my thoughts. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over as memories
he thought of losing her, my anchor, my safe haven, was too much to bear. So, I sat there
*
. My heart pounded as I navigated through the hallway, praying fervently that I wouldn't get caught this time.
I need you in
heart sank, and I closed my eyes briefly, as if trying to
m. Each step felt like an eternity, the weight of dread making my feet feel he
voice barely audible. I already knew
his morning, Bianca. What exactly is your problem?"
her that I was crumbling inside? That despite being tasked with helping others navigate their traumas, I was d
er glasses. The sight of her rubbing the bridge of her nose told me she w
The clients you've been handling for the past few months? None of them are showing improvement. Their families are start
throat felt dry, and the edges of
to take a leave of absence. Take a break, get yourself to
d worked so hard to earn my place here, and now it was slipping thr
y voice shaking. "Just one mo
d right now, you're not. It's not just about you, it's about the clients who trust us. T
ve a meeting to attend," she added, walking past me. As she reached the door, she paused briefly
that, she
now looked chaotic, cluttered with piles of client files. My chest ached, the weight o
t seemed to leap out at me, and in a moment of impulsive defiance, I grabbe
ing my job, I was going to prove them wrong. Whosever file this
chance to show them all that I wasn't