Suzie stood across the street from the towering glass building, her neck stretching upwards as she took it all in. The sleek glass exterior gleamed in the sunlight, cold and unwelcoming, a mirror of the world she wasn't meant to be part of.
This was it.
Edwards Estate Group.
The name alone carried weight—power, money, influence—the kind of place people like her were never meant to walk into unless they were delivering files or cleaning floors. She smoothed her palms against her worn trousers, nerves buzzing under her skin and a shiver running down her spine.
If I don't try… we lose everything.
That thought pushed her forward.
As she crossed the street and stepped onto the polished pavement leading to the entrance, her heart hammered against her ribs. The revolving glass doors reflected her image back at her—tired eyes, neatly tied hair, a blouse she'd straightened, a futile attempt to look presentable.
She barely noticed the man stepping out at the same moment.
The collision was sudden.
Her shoulder slammed into his, and the edge of her bag hit his jacket. The sharp impact left a crease running down the expensive fabric.
"Oh—I'm so sorry!" Suzie blurted out immediately, instinctively reaching forward. "I wasn't looking—"
The man looked down at her, eyes dark and sharp, irritation flashing across his face as he glanced at his suit jacket.
"Watch where you're going," he said coldly, brushing past her hand. His voice was clipped, impatient. "Do you have any idea how much this costs?"
Suzie froze.
Heat crawled up her neck, embarrassment threatening to choke her. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to straighten.
"I apologized," she said quietly but firmly. "It was an accident."
He scoffed, clearly unimpressed. "Accidents still have consequences."
Her fingers curled at her sides. Every instinct told her to snap back, to tell him that he wasn't the only one having a bad day—but she bit it down. She couldn't afford trouble. Not here. Not today.
"I didn't do it on purpose," she replied evenly. "And I'm truly sorry."
For a moment, he studied her, as if deciding whether she was worth another second of his time. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there with her pride bruised and her heart racing.
Suzie exhaled slowly.
Pull yourself together.
She adjusted her blouse, squared her shoulders, and stepped inside the building.
The interior was just as intimidating as the outside—polished marble floors, glass walls, people moving with purpose like they belonged here. She approached the front desk, hands clasped tightly to stop them from shaking.
"I'm here to speak with someone about my family's apartment," she said. "We received an eviction notice."
The receptionist barely looked up. "Do you have an appointment?"
"No," Suzie admitted. "But please, it's important."
The woman sighed, tapping something into her computer. "You'll need to speak with the Executive Director."
"He's not in right now," the assistant told her politely but firmly. "You'll have to come back another day."
Suzie hesitated. Another day might be too late.
"I'll wait," she said.
The assistant raised a brow. "He's very busy."
"I understand," Suzie replied, lowering herself into one of the chairs anyway. "I'll wait."
Minutes stretched into hours.
Her stomach growled, her nerves on edge, but she stayed put. She watched the light shift through the windows, listened to footsteps come and go, her hope thinning but refusing to disappear entirely.
Finally, the assistant straightened, glancing past Suzie toward the entrance.
"He's here," she said.
Suzie looked up.
And her heart sank.
It was him.
The man from earlier strode in, suit jacket draped over his arm, his presence filling the space effortlessly. He didn't spare the room a glance—didn't need to. He was already walking away, heading down the corridor.
"Well," he said coolly without stopping, clearly recognizing her. "If it isn't the woman who creased my suit."
Suzie's breath caught.
Realization hit hard. He's the one.
She rose on instinct and followed.
When he stopped in front of an office, her gaze lifted to the name etched boldly on the door:
Ray Edwards — Executive Director.
Edwards?
The heir?
Her stomach dropped. Oh no. What have I done?
Inside the office, he walked past her without another glance, setting his jacket down with deliberate care. It wasn't the same suit she had creased. This one was just as sharp, just as expensive—untouched.
He moved toward his desk, loosening his cuffs as if she were an inconvenience already filed away. "Why are you here?"
Silence fell heavy between them.
She swallowed. "My family is being evicted."
That finally made him look at her.
Not with sympathy. Not with concern.
With calculation.
His gaze dropped to the folded notice in her hands, then returned to her face, expression unreadable. "And you thought the right way to fix that," he said slowly, "was to wait outside my office."
"I thought it was better than doing nothing," she replied, despite the way her pulse raced.
Ray let out a short, humorless laugh. "You've already cost me a morning," he said. "First my suit. Now my time."
Suzie flinched.
He stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the weight of his presence, his voice low and unyielding. "Do you have any idea how many people come in here every day with stories like yours?"
She met his gaze, refusing to look away. "No," she said. "But this one is mine."
Something flickered—brief, dangerous—in his eyes.
Ray straightened, hands sliding into his pockets. "You should leave," he said coldly. "Before you waste any more of what you clearly don't have."
Her chest tightened. "Please—"
"That will be all."
Suzie stood frozen, eviction notice clenched in her hand, humiliation and fear warring in her chest.
As she turned toward the door, his voice stopped her.
"Leave the paper."
She hesitated.
Slowly, she placed the eviction notice on his desk.
Ray watched her go, his expression unreadable as his fingers brushed the edge of the document.
Outside, Suzie's heart pounded as the office door clicked shut behind her. Her legs felt weak, and her hands trembled—not from holding anything, but from the confrontation she'd just survived. She had left the eviction notice on his desk, unsure if that simple act had done any good—or nothing at all.
She took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. All she could do now was hope he would understand. Hope he would help.
With nothing left to do but wait, Suzie stepped back onto the polished floor, every echo of her shoes reminding her that the next move was no longer hers.