PAIGE
The bus ride home on the M101 was a mess of loud noises and moving shapes, but none of it could calm the chaos in my head. The engine rumbled beneath me, the brakes hissed at every stop, and the conversations of other passengers blended into a meaningless hum.
I looked out the window, watching the city blur past, but I didn't really see anything. My mind was somewhere else entirely.
All I could see was Reomen's smug face floating in the darkness beyond the glass. That confident, knowing look that told me he held all the power now.
And Payton's cold smile - that perfect, cruel curve of her lips that had haunted me since childhood.
I could still see the red mark on her cheek where I'd hit her, the faint imprint of my hand that had sealed my fate.
My right hand still felt warm from the slap. I curled my fingers into a tight fist, pressing them hard against my leg until I could feel the pressure through the fabric of my pants. Idiot. I had given her exactly what she wanted.
After all these years of careful control, of biting my tongue, I had finally reacted. And not just in private - in public, on the street, where anyone could see. She wouldn't forget this. She couldn't. The Rimestones never forgot a slight, and they never let one go unanswered.
And Reomen... Haruto. The name echoed in my mind like something from a forgotten dream. The boy from my past, the one I used to tease when we were children playing in the gardens of our family estates. He had been quiet then, always watching with those serious dark eyes, never quite fitting in with the other children of wealthy families. Now he was my boss.
A billionaire CEO. He had my whole future in his hands, and from the look on his face today, he loved every second of watching me feel small and powerless.
The bus jerked to another stop, and I nearly slid off the vinyl seat. The doors hissed open, letting in a blast of cool evening air that did nothing to clear my head. I watched a woman with two Whole Foods grocery bags struggle to find her pass, her movements slow and tired. For a moment, I envied her simple problems.
When I finally got to my Hell's Kitchen walk-up, my hands were shaking so badly I could barely fit the key in the lock. All the energy had drained out of me during the ride home, leaving me empty and weak.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside, immediately dropping my bag by the door where it landed with a soft thump. I leaned back against the wooden surface, closing my eyes and listening to the silence of my small apartment. The familiar scent of lemon cleaner and yesterday's coffee offered little comfort.
"Paige?" Leon's voice was soft from the kitchen. I heard the refrigerator door close. "How did it— Whoa. What happened?"
I just shook my head, keeping my eyes closed. I couldn't form words around the lump in my throat. The tears I'd been holding in since leaving the office finally fell, hot and quiet, tracing paths down my cheeks that I quickly wiped away with the back of my hand.
He came over right away, his footsteps quiet on the wooden floors. I felt his hand on my arm, gentle but firm as he guided me to the couch. The cushions sighed under our weight as we sat down together. "Hey, talk to me. Did the interview not go well? Did something happen?"
I took a shaky breath and wiped my face with my hand, noticing how my fingers trembled. The light from the window cast long evening shadows across the room, making everything seem softer, sadder. "I got the job," I whispered, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.
Leon blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. He was still in his bartending clothes—a simple Levi's t-shirt and dark jeans. "You... got it? Then why do you look like your world ended?"
"Because he's my boss," I said, the words sharp and painful in my throat. "Reomen Daki. Leon… It's Haruto."
Leon's eyes went wide, his mouth falling open slightly. "Haruto? As in... that Haruto? The kid who…" His voice trailed off, but I knew what he meant.
The kid who used to follow me around the gardens. The kid whose family mine looked down on. The kid I'd mercilessly teased for his too-big clothes and quiet ways.
I nodded, fresh tears welling up and spilling over. "And it gets worse," I told him about the bus stop, the words tumbling out in a rushed, broken stream. About seeing Payton's stupid Ferrari pull up, her smug face appearing in the window. About the nasty word she'd called me, the one that had cut deeper than any physical blow could. And about the slap - the sharp crack of my hand against her cheek, the immediate regret that had flooded me even as the mark bloomed on her perfect skin.
When I finished, Leon let out a low whistle, running a hand over his face. The stubble on his jaw made a scratching sound against his palm. "Damn, Paige. You really had a day, huh?"
He didn't wait for me to answer, just pulled me into a hug. His arms were warm and solid around me, and I could smell the faint scent of detergent on his shirt mixed with the lingering smell of the bar from his earlier shift. "Okay. First, breathe. You're okay. You're home."
I buried my face in his shoulder, breathing in the familiar, comforting scents. His friendship was the only solid thing in the middle of all this mess. Anger at myself for losing control, shame at how easily Payton could still get to me, shock at Haruto's transformation, fear of what would come next - it all twisted inside me like a knot I couldn't undo.
I had the job. I should have been happy. I should have been calling everyone I knew, celebrating this small victory against my family. But instead, I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, the wind whipping around me, and I had just given both Reomen and Payton a reason to push me off.
---
The next day felt easy, almost too easy. The morning sunlight streamed through my office window at Daki Tech, catching dust motes dancing in the air. I kept checking my phone, waiting for Payton to strike back.
Every buzz made me jump, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I knew her—she'd come at me online first. That's all she was good at. Grand gestures and social media attacks are designed to humiliate rather than actually harm. So I waited, my nerves stretched tight as piano wires with every notification.
But my phone stayed quiet. No angry messages. No nasty comments from fake accounts. Nothing. The hours ticked by, marked by the steady hum of the office around me.
By 5 PM, I started to relax, the tension slowly leaving my shoulders. Maybe she had given up. Maybe she'd realized she went too far. Maybe, for once, I had actually won this time.
I'd kept busy all day, burying myself in paperwork and deliberately staying away from the top floor where he might be. I saw Reomen only once, far across the open office space.
He was walking with two men in suits, his head tilted as he listened to something one of them was saying. He looked my way, his face hard to read from that distance, then kept walking without any sign of recognition. I felt relieved, but also strangely disappointed, though I couldn't explain why.
I packed my things as the office emptied around me, feeling the stress of the day slowly leave my body. The evening sun cast long golden rays through the windows, making the whole space feel warm and peaceful.
I walked out of the building into the warm afternoon air, taking a deep breath. The city sounds surrounded me - car horns, distant sirens, the chatter of people heading home. Everything was going to be okay. I had survived my first day. Maybe I could survive what came next.
"Paige Isumi Rimestone?"
The voice came from my right, professional and firm. I turned. Two NYPD officers stood there, their faces serious and impersonal. Their uniforms were crisp, their badges shining in the evening light.
My heart dropped into my stomach. "Yes?"
"You need to come with us."
"Why? What's this about?" The question was a stupid, automatic reflex. I already knew. Of course, I knew.
"We're placing you under arrest for assault."
The words buzzed in my ears, loud and yet somehow distant, as if someone else were hearing them. Assault. Payton. This was her move. Not an online drama. Not gossip or social media attacks. She had gone straight to the police. She had used the one thing I would never have expected - the actual law.
Before I could think, before I could process what was happening, my hands were being pulled behind my back. The cold metal of the cuffs snapped around my wrists, the sound shockingly loud in the open air. The metal dug into my skin, unforgiving and real.
"Wait! This is a mistake!" I cried, my voice shaking. I could feel people stopping to stare, their eyes on me. I imagined my new coworkers watching from the windows above, their faces pressed to the glass. But the officers just kept moving me toward a waiting Ford Crown Victoria police car, their grips firm on my arms.
This was it. Her revenge. Not just getting back at me—she wanted to ruin me completely, to destroy everything I had just barely started to rebuild.
I was pushed into the back of the squad car, the door slamming shut with a heavy, final sound. Through the window, I watched my new office, my new life, disappear as the car pulled away from the curb.
The gleaming glass tower of Daki Tech grew smaller and smaller until it vanished around a corner. Payton hadn't just won—she had destroyed me.
The plastic seat was cold against my legs. The cuffs dug into my wrists with every movement of the car. But I barely felt any of it. I was numb, frozen in a state of pure, utter shock.
Payton did this.
The thought echoed in my head, empty and impossible. This wasn't like her. This wasn't some silly rumor or social media post designed to embarrass me at parties. This was the police. Handcuffs. An arrest record.
This was real in a way none of our childhood fights had ever been. This will stay with me, follow me, and affect every part of my life from now on.
Tears filled my eyes, blurring the world outside the window into streaks of light and color. But I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in the back of a police car. Not because of her.
She had taken things to a whole new level I never could have imagined. One slap—one moment of anger after years of pent-up frustration—and she had used the full weight of the law against me. She had weaponized a system I had always believed was meant to protect people.
The car turned another corner, and through the window, I saw the Daki Tech building one last time in the distance, its windows glowing golden in the setting sun. My fresh start. My hard-won chance at independence and revenge. Gone, just like that, vanished behind other buildings as we drove further toward the 10th Precinct.
This was her message, delivered more clearly than any email or social media post could ever convey: no matter where I went, no matter how far I ran or how hard I fought, the Rimestone name could still reach out and crush me.
She wasn't just trying to embarrass me—she was trying to break me completely, to force me back into the gilded cage I had escaped.
And as the police car pulled into the station, the heavy doors buzzing open to swallow me whole, a terrifying thought finally broke through the shock, cold and clear as ice:
She might have already won.