Morning came quietly, like it was afraid of waking the house.
I slipped out before Lydia could find another reason to remind me of my place. I packed some food before they even woke up, I won't see it when I get back. The sky was still pale, the air cool against my skin, carrying the salty scent of the sea mixed with freshness and damp concrete. Seabourne always felt different at this hour, peaceful, yet cruel.
Richard was already waiting at the corner café near the bus stop, a paper cup of coffee in his hand. He leaned against the glass wall, shoulders relaxed, eyes scanning the street until they found me.
"You look like you didn't sleep," he said gently as I approached.
I shrugged, forcing a small smile. "Sleep and I haven't been on good terms lately."
He studied me for a moment longer than usual. Richard had that habit, seeing things I didn't say out loud. Then he handed me the coffee without asking.
"You need this."
I wrapped my fingers around the cup, grateful for the warmth. We started walking, our steps falling into a familiar rhythm. We had been doing this since we were younger, when life still felt like something we could outrun.
"You know," he said casually, staring ahead, "you don't always have to go back there."
I stiffened. "Back where?"
He glanced at me. "Home."
The word tasted bitter in my mouth.
"I'm serious, Mira," he continued. "If they're giving you a hard time… if it gets worse… you can stay with me. No drama. No conditions."
I stopped walking.
The offer hung between us, heavier than it should have been. I looked at him, really looked at him. Richard wasn't rich. He didn't have connections or power. What he had was steadiness, honesty, a kind of safety I had never allowed myself to lean into.
"I can't," I said quietly.
"Why not?"
"Because it's not that simple." I started walking again before my courage failed me. "I still have my father. And debts. And responsibilities that don't disappear just because I want them to."
He didn't argue. He just nodded slowly.
"Okay," he said. "But the offer stands. Anytime."
We reached the bus stop. For a moment, we stood in silence, watching people pass by, office workers, students, people with destinations that didn't crush them under their weight.
Then Richard spoke again, his tone shifting, growing more cautious.
"So… about last night."
My grip tightened around the coffee cup.
"The KATURO Maritime Gala," he said. "Did you hear the name going around?"
I already knew what he was going to say. Still, my heart skipped.
"Millow," he continued. "The Millow family."
I swallowed. "I heard whispers."
Richard exhaled slowly. "They're not just wealthy. They own things people don't even realize can be owned. Ports. Supply routes. Governments, in some ways."
I thought of the presence I had felt at the gala. The way the room had shifted without anyone saying his name.
"There's one of them in particular," Richard added. "The youngest heir. Ethan Millow."
The name settled into my chest like a stone.
"People say he's ruthless," Richard went on. "That if he decides you're in his way, your entire life can collapse overnight. Businesses disappear. People vanish from deals, from cities. From relevance."
I laughed softly, though there was no humor in it. "Sounds like a myth."
"That's the problem," he said. "It isn't."
I said nothing after that. The bus arrived, brakes hissing, doors opening. We got on, took our usual seats by the window. The city blurred past again, but this time my thoughts refused to settle.
Ethan Millow.
The billionaire king. The man I hadn't met. The man I hoped I never would.
Work that day was heavier than usual.
At Azure Lounge, staff whispered more than they worked. Our managers barked orders with strained smiles, glancing at their phones like they were waiting for some bad news.
I earsdropped on some conversations as I moved between tables.
"…Millow logistics taking over" "…deal collapsed overnight…" "…no warning at all…"
Fear traveled faster than gossip.
During my break, I leaned against the service corridor wall, replaying everything in my mind. Richard's words. The gala. That single glance.
I told myself it meant nothing.
Men like Ethan Millow lived in a different universe. Our paths weren't meant to cross again.
Still, I felt uneasy.
That night, as I walked home alone, the streetlights flickered on one by one, casting long shadows that stretched and twisted. The house loomed ahead, familiar and suffocating.
Inside, Lydia's voice echoed from the living room, sharp and loud. Sienna's laughter followed, careless and bright. I slipped past them unnoticed and went straight to my room.
I sat on the edge of the bed, exhaustion pressing down on me. Richard's offer replayed in my mind.
You can always stay with me, maybe till I get my own apartment?
I imagined what that would look like. Peace. Space. Breathing without fear.
Then reality returned, cold and unforgiving.
I opened my notebook, the one I hid beneath my mattress, and began writing down everything I remembered from today's work. Names. Companies. Strategies. Patterns. Knowledge was the only thing no one could steal from me.
As I wrote, one thought stayed with me, stubborn and unsettling.
If Ethan Millow was truly as dangerous as everyone said. Then meeting him would ruin me.
And if fate insisted on pushing our worlds together anyway, I don't think I can be ready.
I closed the notebook, slid it back into hiding, and lay down, staring at the ceiling.
Outside, Seabourne glittered, indifferent and cruel.
Somewhere in that city, the Millow name commanded fear and obedience.
And here I was,small, tired, invisible, not knowing what tomorrow holds