Page 15 of Plus-Sized Bratva Prisoner

It’s actually good pay for the time required. I hope it is what they say it is and not some kind of code for another type of companionship.

I sigh and push the laptop away from me.

The sun is starting to filter soft light into my apartment, and I have to head out to walk the dogs soon.

Then I have to study. Then I have a shit load of editing to do. I feel like I’m behind on everything. Because I am.

I don’t know how long I can keep this up for. I have to figure out a better solution for all of this. This isn’t sustainable in the long run. It’s just so impossible, the amount they want me to pay.

My phone buzzes and I pick it up excitedly, hoping it’s a reply for the job I just applied for. I open the message.

Unknown: Where is the payment, Tia? You owe double at the end of next week, and we’ll make it triple if it doesn’t come in on time. Interest is rising.

I stare at the message from another of the debt collectors. The fact that this one didn’t show up at my door in the dark hours of the morning doesn’t make it any less scary.

I place my phone screen-down on the table, unable to face any more threats. My anxiety level is through the roof, and I don’t know what to do with myself.

Throughout the weekend it gets worse and worse.

Messages pour in from the debt collectors—I don’t reply, I can’t block the numbers, I don’t know what to do about any of it because they are all threatening to increase the interest and demanding immediate payment.

I’m fucked.

In my exhausted and stressed-out state I know I’m only delivering half the quality of work that is expected of me, and I’m not sleeping because I’m lying awake at night worrying about everything.

It feels like my entire world is falling apart.

On Monday, when I drag myself into work, I’m late.

I’m late because the only time the people could interview me for the new job, reading to the old lady, was this morning.

I couldn’t say no because I so desperately need the job, but I took a huge risk, because I cannot, I fucking cannot mess up my record here at the internship.

I run to my desk, looking around in a dazed, tired panic.

Everyone is already working. They’ve all had their morning coffee and are fully focused on their projects—as I should be.

Fuck.

I look up at Yefim’s office window. He’s not there. It’s a bit of a relief, because maybe that means he didn’t notice that I was late today.

“Tia, what happened this morning?” Samantha’s voice comes from behind me as I pull my office chair out from beneath the desk.

I spin around, pulling my mouth tight. “I’m so sorry, Samantha, I had a little issue, and I missed my train.” I hate lying, but I can’t tell her I was at an interview for an extra job and I’m spreading myself so thin I feel like I’m dying.

“This can’t happen again, Tia. Please take this as a warning—I won’t put it on the books this time, but next time, I will have no choice.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Samantha. I promise you it won’t happen again.”

“The only reason I can let it slide now is because you’ve been turning in some great work. Don’t stop doing that, okay? You’re on time for today’s project deadline, right?”

I nod, trying to search my brain for which deadline is due today.

“I’ll have it to you today.” I nod again, still unsure but not willing to risk telling her that.

“Great. Get to work.”

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