"Mr. Matteo, I told you I would finish paying off my father's debts. Please… don't let them take what's left of his property. The antique shop is my father's last memory."
Her voice was weak. She had just received a message from her father's lawyer: if she didn't complete the payments, the company's owner would seize the shop.
"Amara, it's been two years already. Your deadline to pay has ended. I can't stall any longer. Besides, the Bruce Corporation is about to have a new CEO. The most I can give you is two more weeks."
The family's lawyer spoke in a firm tone. He truly pitied her, but there was nothing more he could do.
Amara held the phone to her ear, balancing it with her shoulder. In her hands was a tray with a cup of coffee—her second job's shift. She still had ten minutes before she could finish and speak with Matteo freely.
"Mr. Matteo, two weeks is impossible. I barely paid a quarter of the debt in the past two years."
She adjusted the phone in frustration, not noticing the woman she bumped into. The cup of coffee tipped—spilling over a white suit.
Amara bit her lip hard. "I'm sorry, sir. I'll pay for it—"
She didn't finish her sentence before hearing a voice that made her heart tremble for a second, though she quickly forced herself back to reality.
"This suit costs as much as this restaurant, miss…"
The man's blue eyes locked on the medium-height girl standing before him. He didn't notice that his words didn't affect her in the slightest. She walked up to his table and set the napkin down with force.
"I'm Amara. Loan applicant. Two jobs. A huge debt to pay off. And I'd be delighted, sir, to add the cost of cleaning your suit to my already endless to-do list—because I've had enough…"
She stared straight into his eyes. She knew the type of man sitting before her—one of those cursed rich people who thought money came easily. No one was born with a diamond spoon in their mouth.
A glance at her watch told her her shift was over. She didn't have time—or the nerves—to argue with him.
Before he could say a single word, she placed her father's antique shop card on the table.
"Send the suit to this address. I'll fix it. Maybe I'll even buy you a new one as a gift."
She rolled her eyes and walked away, unaware that the restaurant manager was watching her with his hands covering his mouth in fear.
God, I shouldn't have hired that student, Amara. She really doesn't know how to deal with our important clients. I'll have to put her in her place, or I'll lose my restaurant.
The manager's feet moved quickly to stand before the wealthy man's table. The man's gaze followed the shadow of Amara as she hurried out.
"I want every detail about that girl, Mr. Jones—if you want to keep your job and your restaurant."
A cold chill ran down the manager's spine. He nodded quickly, wiping his forehead nervously. He bowed, cursing his bad luck. Out of all the businessmen in London, he had stumbled into the hands of Daniel Bruce.
"Mr. Daniel, our date isn't over yet. Please, don't let that silly waitress ruin your mood,"
said the girl sitting in the seat across from him. He raised his eyebrow, then motioned with his finger for her to be silent.
"You're of no use to me anymore. I've found what I was looking for,"
Daniel spoke, while Amara's voice still lingered in his ears.
---
Amara was tired of trying to call Matteo. It seemed he had no intention of answering. She would have to find a miracle to get her out of this mess.
Just as she was about to get on her bike to head home, Amara spotted a familiar figure at the end of the alley. She pedaled toward him.
What is Edward doing here? Wasn't he preparing for his job interview? If he gets accepted, we're supposed to have our engagement party. He never comes to see me during my work shifts.
Her eyebrow lifted in confusion.
"Amara, we need to talk. You're hardworking, smart, and beautiful… but I don't think our relationship will last. We barely see each other because of your work schedule. I was accepted as an assistant to the famous designer Elnora, and I'll be moving to Paris. It's better if we go our separate ways."
She hadn't expected him to break up with her. She could endure the debt, find a way to handle it… but this—this feeling was far harder to bear.
"Edward… what are you saying? We're going to get married. I'm happy you got the job, but you can't do this."
Her voice trembled. This was Edward—her boyfriend who had stayed by her side even after his father lost his business. Even after he lost everything, he hadn't left her.
"Amara… you're just not meant for love. Even if we marry, nothing will change. We won't work out."
Edward handed her a bag containing all the gifts she'd given him over the years. Then he walked to his red car. His phone rang, but he muted it without looking back.
"Fine. As you wish!"
Amara shouted, throwing the bag to the ground. She had held back her tears longer than she should have. She climbed onto her bike and sped away.
Yes… she was in pain. The only things that had made her smile were Edward and her younger sister. And now, even he was gone.
She couldn't ask anyone for help—no one would lend her ten million.
"Even if I worked nonstop for twenty years, I wouldn't save enough to pay the debt. Father… I wish you were still alive. It would be so much easier."
She parked her bike in its spot. Her house was an hour's ride away, close to their old shop.
Climbing the stairs slowly, Amara heard strange noises. Yes—someone was making love in her sister's room. But her sister was supposed to be at the university dorm.
She froze when she heard Edward's voice.
"I did what you asked and proved my love. I broke up with your sister. Now let's enjoy our time…"
Oh, of course. Just what she needed. If he was planning to sleep with her sister, why bother breaking up at all? Why make it sound so normal?