Gabriella's POV
"Oh no, no, no... not my car!" I half-yelled, planting my hands on my hips.
"I was going to make a payment today! You can't just take it!" I pleaded, my voice shaky and desperate.
The grumpy loan officer barely flinched, his tone dry as he scribbled on his clipboard. "I'm sorry, Ms. Brooks, but your loan has been pending for months. We have no choice. Besides, we gave you plenty of warnings."
I scoffed bitterly. Of course they didn't care. Why would they? Covering my grandma's medical bills had been a nightmare lately, and every penny I earned disappeared before I could even breathe. But try explaining that to anyone-they'd just shrug like this guy.
I stood helplessly on the pavement, pulse rising as I watched my car being hooked to the tow truck. It felt like a piece of my freedom was being ripped away right in front of me.
How am I supposed to get to work now?
A loud beeping sound from my phone snapped me back to reality.
"Oh, shit! I'm late for work!" I groaned, shoving my phone into my pocket. I flagged down the first taxi I could find and jumped in.
"Drive faster, please! I'm-late... very late!" I muttered, fidgeting in my seat and biting my nails nervously.
As the taxi sped through traffic, I stared out the window. The morning sun hit my face, but instead of calming me, it only reminded me how badly this day had started. I pulled out my phone and dialed Ben's number-my fiancé-but it went straight to voicemail. Again.
My chest tightened. This was the sixth time in a row he hadn't answered. His recent behavior had me overthinking everything, and the silence felt like a brick on my heart. He had been staying late at the office lately, cutting my calls. I planned on confronting him today after my shift.
By the time the taxi screeched to a stop outside Jewels Coffee Shop, I was a mess of nerves. I paid quickly and bolted inside.
"You're late!" Clara barked the moment she saw me.
"It's just a minute! Come on!" I panted, catching my breath.
"Don't start with me, Gabriella. This is the fourth time this week! Keep it up, and you're fired!" she snapped, her sharp tone slicing through the air.
"You know I had to see my grandma at the hospital, please Clara. I am in a tough point."
"That's your fucking issue, not mine." She spat.
I rolled my eyes when her back was turned, hung my coat in the tiny drawer behind the counter, and muttered under my breath, "Sick bitch."
Clara's head whipped around. "What was that?"
My stomach dropped. I forced a fake smile. "I said... nothing."
The morning shift dragged on painfully slow. Every customer seemed grumpier than the last, and Clara didn't make things easier with her constant hovering. But I powered through. Bills didn't pay themselves, after all.
Finally, after serving the last customer of the morning, I leaned against the counter and let out a long, tired sigh.
That's when the door swung open.
A tall, broad-shouldered man walked in. His perfectly tailored suit hugged his muscular frame in all the right places. Sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see straight through you-he was dangerously handsome. His short, neat hair only added to the intimidating, clean-cut look.
Every step he took oozed power and confidence, like he owned the entire world.
Trailing behind him was a girl who couldn't have been more than seventeen. She clung to his presence, clearly aware of the storm of attention his looks commanded.
"Trust me, the coffee here is good," the girl said lightly. "My friend Molly recommended it."
"You know I hate these places," the man rumbled, his deep, sexy voice sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. "But since you insist..."
God. That voice. It was pure sin wrapped in velvet.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to stand straighter as they approached the counter.
Then his gaze lifted-and locked on me.
For a fraction of a second, everything around me disappeared. His striking blue eyes were like ice and fire at the same time, and my knees nearly gave out.
I snapped myself back to reality just as he opened his mouth.
"You-" his eyes flicked over me with clear disdain, "-the ugly one with glasses. Make my sister's coffee. It should be perfect."
My jaw dropped. Did he just-
Anger surged through me, hot and fierce. I wanted to hurl the coffee pot at his stupid, gorgeous face. But I needed this job. I had to behave.
Plastering on my best fake smile, I muttered, "Okay," and got to work, carefully following the girl's complicated order. My hands trembled with barely contained rage.
When the coffee was finally ready, I extended the cup toward her.
But in a split second, it slipped.
Hot coffee splashed over her fingers.
"Ouch!" she yelped, jerking back.
My heart plummeted. "Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" I gasped, rushing forward, but before I could help her, a hand clamped tightly around mine.
It was his hand.
His grip was like iron, painfully tight, and his eyes burned with fury. "You're careless! Look what you've done!" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
"Hey! Let go! I didn't mean to!" I yelped, tugging against his hold, but he didn't budge.
"Where's your manager?!" His tone was sharp enough to cut glass.
Almost instantly, Clara stormed out from the back. The second she saw him, her entire demeanor shifted. She didn't even glance at the girl's hand. Instead, she positioned herself at his side like he was some kind of king.
Before I could explain, Clara's hand shot out-slap!
The sting was instant. My cheek burned as the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.
"Do you have any idea who he is?!" Clara hissed, her face twisted with rage. "How dare you burn his sister!"
Tears stung my eyes. "It... it was an accident," I stammered, my voice trembling.
"An accident?!" Clara scoffed. "You're fired!"
My entire world tilted. Panic surged through me as my thoughts flew to my grandma lying in the hospital bed. Without this paycheck, how would I cover her bills?
"Please," I begged, my throat tight. "At least... at least give me my paycheck. I need it."
The man's cold, dark voice cut through the air like a blade. "You don't deserve a dime."
Clara crossed her arms. "You heard him. Get out, Gabriella. Now!"
I stumbled backward, barely managing to keep my tears from falling as I pushed through the door. It slammed shut behind me, the sound final, like a coffin lid closing on my dignity.
Through the thin glass, I heard his voice-smooth and commanding.
"You've done well, Madam Clara."
And just like that, I realized... this was my bad luck playing games again.
