Morning light stretched across the faded walls of Malissa's apartment, stopping at the suitcase by the door. The room felt emptier than ever. Stripped of the small things that once made it feel like home. The shelves were bare, the desk where she had worked late nights was gone, and the couch where she had fallen asleep countless times now looked lonely against the wall.
Malissa stood in the middle of the room for a long time, her arms folded lightly across her chest. She let her eyes move slowly from one corner to another, memorizing everything. The small kitchen where she had eaten instant noodles while working overtime. The window where she used to sit and draw when she still believed she might become a webtoon artist someday. The spot near the couch where she had dropped her bag every night after visiting the hospital.
This is where she had built her life, piece by piece, day by day. It had been small and imperfect, but it had been hers.
She reached out and touched the doorframe lightly, her fingers tracing the chipped paint. Memories pressed against her chest, but no tears came this time. She had already cried enough over the past weeks. There were no tears left for this goodbye.
She picked up her suitcase, took one last look around the room, and walked out. She locked the door carefully and placed the key on the kitchen counter for the landlord, just as she had promised. When she stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her, the soft click sounded louder than it should have.
It felt final.
Outside, a black car waited at the curb, gleaming under the morning sun. The driver stood beside it, dressed neatly in a dark suit. When he saw her, he stepped forward immediately and opened the back door.
"Miss Fisher," he said politely.
Malissa hesitated for a moment before getting into the car. The leather seat was soft and cool, and the inside of the car smelled faintly of clean leather and something expensive she could not name. She placed her suitcase beside her and folded her hands in her lap, sitting very still as the driver closed the door and returned to the front seat.
The car pulled away smoothly, merging into the morning traffic of Pacifica Heights. Malissa looked out the window as the city passed by slowly. Tall glass buildings reflected the sunlight, and people hurried along the sidewalks, carrying coffee cups and briefcases. Life continued as usual for everyone else.
They drove past Skyline Avenue, where luxury boutiques and restaurants lined the streets. She had walked there once with a coworker just to look at the shop windows, knowing she could never afford anything inside. They passed a stretch of road where the ocean became visible, Azure Bay glittering under the morning light. The water looked peaceful and endless, stretching far into the horizon.
She watched the city quietly, her reflection faint in the car window. Each passing street felt like she was slowly leaving her old life behind, one block at a time.
After some time, the car turned onto a private road leading toward a high-rise building that stood apart from the rest of the city. The building was made almost entirely of glass, its surface reflecting the sky and ocean around it. Security gates stood at the entrance, and guards checked the car before allowing it to pass.
The car entered the private drive and stopped near the entrance. The driver stepped out and opened the door for her again.
"We have arrived, Miss Fisher," he said.
Malissa stepped out slowly and looked up at the building. It was tall and beautiful, but it did not feel welcoming. It looked distant, cold, like a place built for power rather than comfort.
Inside, the lobby was silent and enormous. Marble floors stretched beneath her feet, and large glass walls revealed a sweeping view of the ocean below. Everything looked perfect, polished, and expensive. Even the air felt different, quiet and controlled.
The staff greeted her politely.
Their smiles were professional.
Their distance, intentional.
Like they were welcoming a guest who might not stay long.
Malissa nodded politely, unsure what to say. She felt out of place, like she had walked into someone else's life by mistake.
The housekeeper picked up her suitcase.
"Please follow me. I will show you your room."
They walked down a long corridor with large windows overlooking the ocean. Sunlight filled the hallway, reflecting off the polished floors. Everything looked elegant and quiet, but there was no warmth anywhere. It felt more like a luxury hotel than a home.
The housekeeper opened a door and stepped aside. "This will be your room."
Malissa walked inside slowly and stopped just past the doorway. The room was larger than her entire apartment. A king sized bed stood in the center, covered in crisp white sheets. A walk in closet stood open, filled with neatly arranged clothes. A private bathroom gleamed with glass and polished stone. Beyond the glass doors, a balcony overlooked the ocean, waves crashing against the cliffs below.
The view was breathtaking.
It was beautiful.
It was luxury.
It was everything she had never had.
And yet... she had never felt more homeless.
She set her suitcase down beside the bed and walked slowly to the balcony. The wind brushed against her face, carrying the scent of salt and sea. From this height, the city looked small and distant.
"This is your wardrobe," the housekeeper said gently, gesturing toward the closet. "These clothes have been prepared for you. If you need anything else, please inform me."
Malissa nodded quietly. "Thank you."
When the housekeeper left, the room became silent again. Malissa walked back inside and ran her fingers lightly across the bedspread. The fabric was soft and smooth, nothing like the worn blankets she used at her apartment.
She opened her suitcase and began unpacking slowly. She placed her clothes neatly into the closet, but they looked strange next to the expensive dresses already hanging there. Her belongings looked small in this large room.
A knock sounded at the door.
Mike stepped inside when she opened it. "Mr. Marquez would like to speak with you," he said politely.
She followed him down another hallway to a study at the end of the corridor. Alexander sat behind a large desk, reviewing documents. He looked up when she entered, his expression calm and unreadable.
"There are rules," he said immediately.
Malissa stood quietly, listening.
"Do not enter my study without permission."
"My room is off-limits."
"Answer when I call."
"Be home before evening unless you are with me."
"You will not reveal the nature of this contract to anyone."
"No mistakes."
A pause.
"You are here to play a role. Do not forget that."
His voice was calm and precise, like he was outlining company policy rather than her new life.
Then he looked directly at her and said,
"This is not your home,
it is where you will stay."
Malissa nodded slowly. "I understand."
He returned to his documents, dismissing her without another word.
That night, Malissa sat alone in her new room. The city lights glittered beyond the balcony, and the ocean waves moved slowly in the darkness below. The room was quiet, too quiet.
Her suitcase was still half unpacked on the floor. She picked up the family photo she had brought with her and sat on the edge of the enormous bed, holding it carefully in her hands.
Her father smiled in the photo. Her mother looked healthy and happy. She looked younger, carefree, unaware of everything that would happen later.
She held the photo tightly against her chest and sat there in silence for a long time.
The room was beautiful, quiet, and expensive.
She had everything now.
And nowhere to belong.