Chapter 8 When There's No One Left to Call

"Of course my life isn't messy enough already," Elena muttered to herself, a dry, almost sarcastic laugh bubbling up as Elvano's hand clamped tightly around her wrist.

"You really think you can just walk away?" His voice was sharp, commanding-like he hadn't left the conference room.

Elena gave him a disinterested look. "Sorry, I'm in a hurry. We can talk at the office. Later. Now, if you'll excuse me."

With one quick twist, she pulled free from his grasp. Elvano blinked, momentarily stunned. It wasn't just the unexpected strength-it was the calm defiance in her face, the way she stood there so composed, almost daring him to challenge her.

"Marrying my own boss? That's rich," she thought as she turned and walked off. "The universe really knows how to joke."

She exhaled softly, trying to shake off the annoyance that had started to simmer when he grabbed her.

This surprise encounter had drained any will she had left to talk things through. They already clashed too often at work-she wasn't about to extend their verbal sparring matches to the sidewalk in front of his house.

Elvano stood there with his hands on his hips, watching her go, his jaw clenched. Elena always had a way of getting under his skin with her sharp, dismissive words-but this time, something else lingered. Awe, maybe?

He lifted his hand and turned it over in front of his face, as if trying to make sense of it. His brow furrowed.

That moment-when she slipped out of his grip so easily-reminded him that Elena wasn't fragile. She was solid steel beneath all that quiet restraint. He had meant to pull her aside, talk to her in private, make her stay.

But now? He'd forgotten what he was even going to say.

A woman like her shouldn't have been able to break free from someone like him-his grip was firm, practiced. And yet she had, with barely any effort at all. Like her body had known how to escape long before he reached for her. Like it had done so before.

Even after her car had vanished down the road, Elvano stayed frozen for a moment, replaying the scene. Then he let out a long, slow breath and walked back into the house.

At the top of the stairs, his mother crossed his path. Still angry, Narima didn't even look at him as she brushed past and disappeared into her room.

He never got the chance to ask why Elena had come. Whether this had anything to do with the woman he was supposed to be arranged to marry-or if she was the woman.

***

On the way home, Elena sat in silence, watching trees sway gently along the roadside as her mind drifted to Narima's proposal-and the looming mess in her life. The quiet hum of the car only made her thoughts louder. Every decision felt like a domino waiting to fall.

Once she got home, Elena got to work. She pulled out her phone and started dialing, one contact after another, hoping someone-anyone-could lend her the money.

"I'm really sorry, Elena. If it were just two, maybe five thousand dollars, I could help. But hundreds of thousands? I just don't have it."

That was the tone of every conversation. Polite refusals masked in regret.

"Why don't you try getting a bank loan instead?" one friend suggested.

"Yeah... maybe I should," Elena muttered, trying to hide the bitterness in her voice.

It stung. Elena had always been there for her friends. She gave freely-her time, her energy, even money when they needed it. But now that she was on the edge, not one of them could catch her.

Everyone had their reasons: financial strain, short notice, personal struggles, misplaced priorities. Whether they were true or just polite excuses, she couldn't be sure.

"That might be your best option, Elena," her friend added. "Banks can lend bigger amounts."

"You're probably right. Thanks... I'll let you go now." Elena ended the call and tossed her phone onto the couch. She dragged her hands across her face and collapsed back onto the cushions. That was the last person she could think of. Her list was empty now.

Borrow money from her boyfriend? Absolutely not. That would only make things worse. His parents already despised her-and knowing she needed a massive loan would give them even more reason to hate her.

The weight of that thought pressed down hard. Their relationship was already hanging by a thread thanks to their complicated family history. To them, she was merely the daughter of the woman who had once stolen their first love - Elena's father, who had dated her boyfriend's mother before choosing to marry someone else.

Elena shook her head, mentally pushing the thoughts away. This wasn't the time to spiral. She needed to focus.

"What now? Do I really have to go to the bank?" she whispered to herself. "But... the interest rates..."

To Elena, borrowing from the bank felt like a double-edged sword. It could save her today-but could ruin her tomorrow. And she didn't want to swap one crisis for another.

Then, like a lightbulb flickering to life, she shot upright on the couch.

"But... I can pay it off once the insurance comes through," she told herself. "I just need to sell as much as I can now, so I don't borrow too much."

Determined, she started sorting through everything. Tonight's visit to the hospital would have to wait. This had to come first.

Time slipped through her fingers, and before she knew it, the clock struck midnight.

Elena raked her fingers through her hair in frustration. She had gone through the entire house, but most of it wasn't worth much.

A set of jewelry she wore to formal events, a pair of matching watches she and her father had owned for years, some fitness gear, a folding bike. That was it.

She and her father had never cared about branded things. Luxury items were never a priority. All that mattered was practicality and comfort-something her father always instilled in her. That principle stuck, even now.

Then she remembered something-the savings.

Her brows furrowed in doubt as she powered up her laptop and opened every bank account they had.

"This... this isn't enough," she muttered. "And I can't touch this money. The insurance doesn't cover everything at the hospital."

The numbers were cruel. Even after combining every account, they barely reached $150,000. She needed over $600,000.

Her right hand tapped a pen against the desk while her left held up her tired head.

"I guess... I'll have to sell the car," she sighed. She tried to estimate how much she could get for her car-and her father's.

Still not enough.

She cursed herself for not buying a car with better resale value. But she and her father had always driven modest, practical vehicles. Flashiness had never been their thing.

Finally, after packing the items into a suitcase-including gold bars from her father's safe-Elena wrapped up for the night. Tomorrow, she'd sell them all before heading to the hospital.

The next morning, she did just that.

She sold everything she had managed to collect-jewelry, fitness equipment, even the gold. Then she went to the car dealer and sold both her own car and her father's. The offers were disappointingly low. But she had no time to argue. No time to care.

After it was all gone, Elena stared blankly at the screen of her phone. The bank balance stared back, cruel and indifferent. Even after everything, the gap was still too wide.

"At this rate... it's still not enough," she murmured.

Her eyebrows knitted together, eyes narrowing with frustration, and her lips curled downward in defeat. She had hoped for more. She had hoped, period. But the numbers didn't care.

The cars she and her father had chosen so carefully once upon a time-now felt utterly worthless.

As she sat there, lost in thought, the sharp ring of her phone broke the silence.

She looked down.

It was one of her father's employees.

The name alone made her chest tighten.

"Miss Elena, sorry to bother you. The staff is asking if their salaries can be paid a little earlier. They say... waiting a week is too long."

Elena didn't respond. Only her breathing could be heard-long, heavy, like a storm trapped inside her lungs.

Seconds passed.

Then, a soft laugh slipped out.

Quiet. Bitter. Almost mocking.

"How hilarious," she whispered-to herself, or maybe to the sky above that always seemed to be watching, silently amused.

To be continued...