Page 15 of Royal Deception
“You deserve someone who sees you, Ana,” I say, a fierce edge to my tone. “Who sees you.”
She looks at me, offering a small smile. “Thanks, Clary. I don’t know. I guess I keep telling myself it’s just a phase. Maybe it’ll get better.”
“Don’t just settle,” I say, my voice firm but gentle. “You shouldn’t have to keep adjusting for someone else. You matter too.”
Ana’s expression softens, and for a second, she looks lighter, like maybe she’s just been waiting for someone to say that. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I just don’t know what to do anymore.”
“Make him listen,” I say, glancing over at her. “You need to sit him down and make him hear you. Don’t give him an ultimatum, but make him understand that if he continues this way, you’re out.”
“I think you’re right,” she says, a glint in her eyes. “I will do that.”
I admire Ana. She’s brave. She’s facing her problems head-on, even if she’s still figuring things out. “You should stand up to your boss, too,” she advises. “Make him see that you won’t be treated like dirt, that you need more respect from him. Maybe then he’ll take you seriously.”
My steps falter as I chuckle weakly, the notion of standing up to Rory sending a shiver down my spine. I laugh nervously, but it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “He’s not that kind of boss,” I say, shaking my head. “Standing up to him… it’s not that simple. I could lose my job, Ana. I need this job, and I can’t afford to rock the boat.”
I bite my lip, feeling the weight of the words settle in. No matter how much I want to break free, I’m stuck. I’m caught in this loop until I can pay back my stepmother.
The two of us finish our walk and head back to the parking lot. Ana waves goodbye as she gets into a large black SUV.
I head to the bus stop and take the next bus back to my building to get ready for work.
The sun is high in the sky now, and I feel refreshed after our walk and our long conversation. Despite my hesitance tostand up to Rory, it felt good to get everything off my chest. The optimistic spark burns a little brighter.
Once inside, I kick off my sneakers and head upstairs. It’s quiet, a rare relief, and I start selecting an outfit, hoping I won’t have to see Kate today.
Just as I pull on my long, lavender pencil skirt, I hear heels clacking on the steps outside my room and the door opens up. I don’t have to look up to know who it is.
“Clary,” she says, a smug look on her face. “I need you to make sure this place is spotless before I get home tonight. I’m entertaining guests, and I don’t want to see a single thing out of place.” Her words hang in the air like a command.
I swallow the sigh that threatens to burst forth and give her a small smile. “Yes, Kate.”
Her eyes narrow slightly, inspecting me as if she’s searching for any sign of resistance, but she doesn’t find it. Satisfied, she turns on her heel and heads out, her footsteps fading as the door closes behind her.
The moment the sound of her heels disappears, the optimism I’d been carrying like a balloon starts to deflate, a slow, quiet unraveling I can’t stop. I button up my bishop-sleeve blouse, give myself a once-over, and head downstairs to slip on my heels, the familiar tightness grounding me. But it doesn’t stop the restless unease curling in my stomach.
I should be grateful. I have a job, a place to live. But every day feels like treading water, the shore slipping further and further from sight.
And now, with my pregnancy lingering at the edges of my mind, it’s like I’m sinking even faster.
How am I supposed to do this? How do I pay off Kate while juggling a baby? How do I survive under Rory’s watchful, merciless gaze? At twenty-six, I should have the answers, but all I have are endless questions. When does that mythical age-related wisdom kick in? How can I possibly bring a child into a world like Rory’s?
And how am I supposed to survive it myself?
By the time I reach work, I feel like I’ve already lost. The tension from yesterday still lingers, thick in the air like a storm waiting to break. I see it in the stiffness of Rory’s posture, in the way his gaze flickers to me, sharp and unreadable. It’s suffocating.
All I want is to get through the day and crawl into bed, disappearing beneath the blankets. I wanted to believe today held promise, but once again, I’ve been proven wrong.
Exhaling slowly, I force myself forward, but my feet feel like lead, every step a slog. My own thoughts chant in my head, relentless and damning.
I’m failing. I’m drowning. And there’s no one coming to save me.
As I sit down at my desk, I keep my head down.Focus on work, I tell myself.Stop letting everything get to you.
Still, a restless energy hums beneath the surface. My foot bounces under my desk. My fingers tighten their grip around my pen.
Every sharp tap of the keyboard, every distant murmur of conversation grates on my already raw nerves.
Rory’s gaze sharpens, tracking my every step, his eagle eyes watching me as I move about the office, cleaning and refilling the coffee pot, making copies, sorting mail, until I feel the tension coiled so tightly inside that I might just explode.
