Fired Before Sunset
The city hummed with life outside, but inside the sleek, crowded restaurant, the tension was almost tangible. Jasmine balanced a tray in her hands, moving quickly between tables, her heart pounding from exhaustion. She had been on her feet since morning, running on barely any sleep, and the weight of her problems pressed heavily on her shoulders.
Rent, food, surviving another day… I can't mess this up, she thought, forcing herself to focus.
But her mind betrayed her. Thoughts of the orphanage, of nights spent wishing for a better life, distracted her just long enough for disaster to strike.
The glass of water on her tray slipped. In a split second, it tumbled over the edge and drenched the customer's crisp white shirt.
"Oh my God! Are you kidding me?!" the woman shouted, standing abruptly.
"I—I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—" Jasmine stammered, panic tightening her chest.
Her boss appeared almost instantly, storming over with a furious glare.
"What did I just see, Jasmine? How careless can you be?"
"Please, I was just—" Jasmine tried to explain, but her voice was drowned out by a sharp slap across her face.
"Don't you dare talk back! I feed you, I give you work, and this is how you repay me?" her boss shouted, pointing toward the door.
Tears welled up in Jasmine's eyes, but she refused to beg any further. She had learned long ago that begging never changed anything.
"Pack your things. You're done. Now get out!"
Jasmine left the restaurant with nothing but her small bag, the city streets suddenly feeling colder than ever. Cars zoomed past, strangers rushed by, and the neon lights of the evening seemed to mock her misfortune. No money, no food, no plan.
She paused on the curb, swallowed the lump in her throat, and whispered to herself, "Maybe this is just the beginning… maybe something better is waiting."
And somehow, deep down, she knew it wasn't the end.
Jasmine wandered the city streets, clutching her small bag, the night feeling colder and emptier than ever. Neon lights flickered overhead, cars zipped past, and the hum of the city made her feel even more invisible.
She hugged her bag tighter and tried to avoid the shady figures lurking on the corner, but fate had other plans. Three men stepped out from the shadows, blocking her path.
"Hey there, little lady," one sneered.
Jasmine's heart raced. She tried to step back, but they closed in. Panic surged through her chest as she struggled to escape. "Please! Leave me alone!" she shouted, hoping someone would hear her.
Suddenly, a strong voice cut through the night:
"Let her go!"
A man appeared from the street, moving fast and confident. In moments, he stood between Jasmine and the men. Before they could react, he grabbed one of them, pushing him back with a force that made the others stumble. The two remaining men froze, then ran off into the dark, leaving Jasmine trembling but unharmed.
The stranger turned to her, his eyes calm yet commanding. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.
Jasmine's mouth went dry. "I… I think so…" she whispered. Her heart still raced, but she felt a strange sense of safety around him.
He glanced down at his wristwatch and then back at her. "You shouldn't be walking alone this late. It's dangerous."
Jasmine noticed the sleek suit, the expensive shoes, and the quiet confidence that radiated from him. She had no idea who he was — a passerby? A security professional?
Before she could ask, a young woman appeared behind him. "Sir, are you alright? Everything okay?"
The man nodded. "Yes. She's fine now."
Jasmine blinked, still trying to process everything. Something about him felt… different. Powerful. Protective. And though she didn't know it yet,
Little did she know, the man standing before her was Brian Blackwood — a CEO known for being ruthless in business, but tonight, he had just saved a stranger on the streets.
the man who had just saved her — started to turn away, but Jasmine couldn't move. Her legs trembled as she sank to the ground, clutching his coat.
"Please… please!" she cried, her voice shaking. "I have nowhere to go… just one night. Please, I'll stay in the servants' quarters, I don't mind. I just… I can't spend another night out there!"
The man froze, his sharp gaze on her. He looked calm, controlled, yet there was something in his eyes that softened slightly at her desperation.
"I said one night," she pleaded, tears streaming down her face. "I promise I'll leave first thing tomorrow morning. Please…"
He studied her silently for a long moment. Finally, he sighed and nodded. "Fine. One night. That's it. You leave first thing in the morning."
Relief flooded through Jasmine, and she felt her knees buckle as she lowered herself even closer in gratitude. "Thank you… thank you so much!"
Before she could stand, a stern voice rang out behind her.
What on earth are you doing?!"
She looked up to see a sharp-looking woman, impeccably dressed, striding toward them. Her eyes narrowed, taking in the scene.
"This is the employee?" the woman asked, her tone cold. "Sir, are you seriously allowing this?"
Jasmine's face flushed with embarrassment. She stammered, "I… I didn't mean to… I just…"
Brian, the man who had saved her, didn't raise his voice. He looked at his assistant calmly. "She's only here for one night. Nothing more."
The woman — his personal assistant — glared at Jasmine but said nothing further. She simply gestured for Jasmine to follow her.
Jasmine, still trembling, obeyed silently. She had no idea where she was going, but for now, she was safe.
As they walked toward the compound, Jasmine whispered to herself, "maybe...i could fake an illness tomorrow morning cause right now i don't have anywhere to go."
And for the first time that night, she allowed herself a small glimmer of hope.