"God… to think I looked up to these people, admired them for their supposed integrity and the legal means they used to climb to the top. At least, that's what I thought. But who could have known they were this corrupt?"
"You know that saying, 'Not all that glitters is gold,'" a voice chimed in, breaking the suffocating silence. It was sharp and bitter, a reflection of the undercurrent of disgust that swirled around Kayla.
THAT. IS. IT.
Kayla's chest constricted with a surge of anger so fierce she felt it might burn her from the inside out. Her jaw tightened, and her eyes zeroed in on the people she once called friends. They lounged on the velvet couches in their designer dresses, sipping champagne, laughing without a care in the world as if nothing had changed. As if they hadn't just witnessed her entire world crumble.
Amy, standing stiff beside her, mirrored her glare. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, an unspoken solidarity in the way her stance mimicked Kayla's fury.
Kayla's heels clicked sharply against the marble floor, each step echoing her rage, her strides purposeful and relentless. She was done with this farce, this illusion of civility that had governed her life for far too long.
"Oh, baby, I guess there's no more yacht parties now," Aaron said, his voice smooth, a sly grin pulling at his lips as he reached out to pull her into a loose hug. The scent of his cologne—rich, woodsy, too expensive—clung to her, but it did nothing to calm the fire burning in her veins.
Kayla stiffened under his touch, a flicker of a smile almost breaking through, but her eyes… her eyes were cold, devoid of any warmth.
For a moment, she wondered if Aaron had ever really cared for her, or if she had simply been another accessory in his world—just another shiny ornament on his arm, paraded around for show.
"Umm, Kayla… we'll just take our leave now," Ellen stammered, clutching her clutch bag tighter, as if the flimsy object could protect her from Kayla's piercing stare. One by one, her so-called friends followed Ellen's lead, their heels clicking as they hurried away, eager to escape the wrath that Kayla had unleashed.
Cowards.
As the last of them disappeared into the crowd, Kayla exhaled sharply, her breath shaky. Her hands were trembling, but she didn't care. The grand double doors loomed before her, tall, cold, and impassable, but she pushed them open with a strength that surprised even her.
Her voice broke through the fading chatter of the few lingering guests, cutting through the tension with a finality that left no room for argument.
"Everyone, please… leave. Drop the wine glasses in your hands. The party is over."
Her words, though polite, had a sharp edge that sent ripples through the room. Slowly, the guests began to filter out, muttering under their breath. The whispers didn't escape Kayla's ears.
"Corruption runs in their blood."
"Greedy politicians and their spoiled kids."
"Such a disgrace to society."
Kayla's hands clenched at her sides. What corruption? What society? These people, these hypocrites—Kayla thought bitterly. They fed off the very same politicians they claimed to despise. They took money from the same corrupt system they condemned, exploiting every loophole, begging favors, turning a blind eye to their own guilt. Now that her parents had fallen from grace, they were the first to point fingers. Society, she realized, was nothing more than a breeding ground for hypocrisy.
"Bye, babe," Aaron said, his voice smooth, his lips pressing a quick, almost mechanical kiss to her cheek.
Her head snapped up, her gaze hard. Where was he going?
"Sorry, babe. It's urgent," Aaron added, a charming smile tugging at his lips before he disappeared into the crowd.
And just like that, she was alone. In a room that still reeked of perfume, sweat, and shattered illusions. She let out a shaky breath. Once, twice, before pushing the grand doors closed behind her with a resounding thud.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Her parents wouldn't be home until the next trial, and Kaiden Scott—the name that had been echoing in her mind since everything fell apart—was the only thought that remained. She had to stay strong. For them. For herself.
She stepped into the elevator, her reflection staring back at her from the cold mirrored walls. Her pale face, her wide aqua eyes filled with unshed tears, seemed like a stranger's. When the doors opened to her suite, she kicked off her heels with a frustrated sigh, the sound of them clattering to the floor drowned by the throbbing ache in her chest.
Her dress pooled at her feet as she made her way to the bathroom. The icy water from the showerhead poured over her bare shoulders, washing away the remnants of the evening—though it did little to soothe the raw ache inside her.
Her mind was a hurricane of accusations, whispered insults, and the lingering memory of Aaron's sly grin.
When she emerged from the steam-filled bathroom, she sat at her vanity, staring at the reflection of the woman she had become. Her long, silky ginger-red hair cascaded over her shoulders, shimmering under the soft glow of the light. She reached for the blow-dryer, working it through her hair, each strand seeming to glow, framing her delicate face and striking aqua eyes.
"Well, Mister Jamal… it's just me and you now," she murmured.
At her feet, her ginger-furred cat looked up with bright, questioning eyes, letting out a soft meow. Jamal. His fur was the same shade as her hair—something her parents had insisted on when they bought him. A matching dog had been part of the deal, but the dog had been missing for weeks now.
Jamal, however, stayed—always.
"Good nighty," she whispered, clutching the cat close to her chest.
Hot tears pricked the corners of her eyes, and for a brief moment, she let herself break. She allowed herself the luxury of vulnerability, of letting the weight of the world settle over her. The dam cracked, and the tears fell freely.
But life doesn't pause for grief, Kayla reminded herself. Darker days loomed on the horizon. But wasn't there always light after the darkness? Wasn't that the saying?
---
The Next Morning
The harsh light of the morning spilled into her room, golden and intrusive. Kayla blinked awake, her phone loosely grasped in her hand. She squinted at the screen, her blurry vision slowly clearing.
11:30 AM.
"What? How did I sleep so late?" she mumbled, stumbling out of bed, her body heavy with exhaustion.
The morning passed in a haze. A black towel, the scent of soap and mint, and then… red. The red gown that hugged her pear-shaped figure and brought out the fullness of her lips. She didn't need makeup today—her face, fresh and youthful, still held traces of the night's sorrow.
"Bye, Jamal," she said softly to the cat, who stretched lazily on his plush bed, unimpressed by her departure.
With her car keys clutched tightly in one hand, Kayla descended the elevator, her mind lost in thought. The Kornels Mansion loomed behind her as she stepped into her sleek black car, speeding down the polished streets of Diamond Mine Estate.
---
Case Closed Law Firm
"What do you mean they froze my bank account?!" Kayla's voice cracked slightly as she slammed her hands on the polished desk, the sound sharp and accusing.
"I'm sorry, Miss Kornels," Mr. Rogers said, his voice calm and measured. He leaned back in his leather chair, the room heavy with the tension she felt in every fiber of her being. "But the law is clear. Your accounts are under investigation. There's nothing I can do."
"But… that's my parents' hard-earned money! They didn't steal anything!" Kayla's words rushed out in a torrent of frustration, her hands trembling at her sides.
"I understand your frustration, Miss Kornels. But my hands are tied."
"So… no shopping? No access to anything? Mr. Rogers, please, isn't there something—anything—you can do?"
Mr. Rogers sighed, rubbing his temples, the weight of the situation pressing on him as much as it pressed on her.
"You'll have to become independent now, Kayla. I can lend you a little, but it won't be enough."
"Is there… is there any way I can see my parents?" Her voice softened, hope flaring.
"Yes. I can take you to the station. You can see them… briefly."
Kayla's heart leaped, her aqua eyes glistening with a new spark of hope.
"Really? Right now?"
"Yes. Come with me."
And as she followed Mr. Rogers out of the office, the world outside seemed colder, sharper. But deep inside her, a new fire flickered to life. She would face whatever came next—for her parents. For herself.