Chapter 4

The world continued to revolve around Bradley and Kylie. He bought her a private island, a fleet of luxury cars, and a fashion line. Their love story was a daily feature in the tabloids.

He even posted a picture on Instagram of them kissing, with the caption: "My one and only."

I saw it. I felt nothing. The part of my heart that used to ache for him was now just scar tissue. Numb.

I continued to add stones to my jar. It was getting heavy. Soon.

One evening, he showed up at my small room in the staff quarters. It was the first time he had come here.

He looked around the bare room, a frown on his face. "What have you been doing?" he asked, as if my life outside his service was a mystery he was entitled to solve.

"My job," I replied, my voice flat.

He ignored my coldness. He was holding a sleek, black box. "I have a gift for you."

My heart, against my better judgment, gave a small, stupid flutter. He had never given me a gift before.

He handed me the box. I took it, my fingers tracing the smooth surface. My mind flashed to the calendar. Tomorrow was the anniversary of the day he hired me. The day he gave me the name "Kaci."

For three years, I had held onto this date, a secret, pathetic celebration of my own. I would buy myself a small cupcake and wish for a future that would never come.

Maybe he remembered. Maybe this was a sign.

Hope is a stubborn, foolish thing.

I opened the box. Inside, nestled on black velvet, was not a piece of jewelry or a token of appreciation.

It was a set of high-tech racing gear. A helmet, gloves, and a fireproof suit. All in a striking shade of crimson red.

Kylie's favorite color.

I stared at the gear, my throat suddenly tight.

"There's a charity race tomorrow," Bradley said, his voice casual, as if he were discussing the weather. "Kylie was supposed to participate, but she's not feeling well. A bit of a cold."

He looked at me, his eyes empty of emotion. "You'll take her place."

The race was notoriously dangerous. A high-speed, illegal street race through treacherous mountain roads. Last year, a driver had died.

"She can't back out now. It's for a major charity, and our company is the main sponsor," he continued. "You'll wear this. The helmet will cover your face. Everyone will think it's her."

Kylie's voice came from the doorway. She was leaning against the frame, a smug look on her face. She wasn't sick at all.

"Don't scratch my car, Kaci," she said with a purr. "It's a limited edition. And try not to die. It would be such a hassle to clean up."

Bradley glanced at her, a soft smile on his lips. "Don't worry, my love. The car will be fine."

Replaceable.

The word hung in the air between us.

"The race is tomorrow, sir," I said, my voice barely audible. "It's our..."

I couldn't finish the sentence. Our anniversary. It sounded so pathetic.

He looked at me, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. For a moment, I thought he remembered.

"Ah, yes. Tomorrow," he said slowly.

Kylie cut in, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Darling, you remembered! Tomorrow is the anniversary of our first kiss!" She kissed his cheek, leaving a smear of red lipstick.

Bradley's brief moment of recollection vanished. He smiled at her, completely captivated. "Of course, my love. How could I forget?"

He turned back to me, his expression all business again. He pulled out a checkbook.

"This is a dangerous task," he said, scribbling a number. "Here's a bonus. One million dollars. For your trouble."

He tore out the check and handed it to me.

Money. That's all I was worth to him. A transaction.

My heart, which had been numb for so long, felt a final, crushing blow. It shattered into a million tiny pieces.

There was nothing left. No love, no hope, no fantasy.

Just a cold, empty void.

I took the check. I looked him in the eye.

"Thank you, sir," I said, my voice clear and steady. "I will complete the mission. Perfectly."

He nodded, satisfied. He had his tool, ready and willing.

He and Kylie left, their laughter echoing down the hallway.

I stood alone in my room, the racing suit in one hand, the check in the other.

The race was tomorrow.

It would be my final service.

After that, my debt would be paid in full.