The Price of Loving the Wrong Man

Audrey stared down at her filthy, worn-out shoes, stepping back from her brother. She reached up with trembling fingers and pulled the heavy, expensive suit jacket from her shoulders, holding it out to him. "Don't. Your jacket will get ruined. I am covered in grime and puke from cleaning washrooms all day."

Arthur snatched the premium fabric from her hands. "Ruin it, my ass!"

He threw the heavy jacket back over her shivering frame, his eyes turning bloodshot in the pale, flickering streetlights. "I am going to get mad if you repeat that kind of self-deprecating bullshit."

The overwhelming, heavy warmth of the thick fabric enveloped her small frame. A fragile smile touched Audrey's lips. She allowed her arms to rest at her sides, finally accepting his care after so long apart.

Arthur dug into his pockets. He pulled out a premium bank card and shoved it into her cold, calloused hands. "Quit that horrific job right now. Here, take this. Let me know when it runs out of money."

Audrey pushed his hand back. "It is fine, Art. I am pretty happy being a cleaner."

Deep distress twisted Arthur's features. His voice trembled. "Drey, is it because you are still furious at me? Do you refuse to spend my money because I failed to stand up for you two years ago when the family abandoned you? I—"

Audrey cut him off, masking the bitter resentment clawing at her throat. "No, you are overthinking it. Mom and Dad will get upset if they find out you have been funneling money to the disgraced daughter. Besides, Dad's fragile heart condition cannot handle that kind of stress."

Arthur clenched his fists, his knuckles turning stark white, before he pocketed the card. "Fine. If you refuse the money, you must at least allow me to help you find a better, safer job."

Audrey looked away toward the desolate street. "It is fine, Art. I won't ever be able to leave Apex Club."

Arthur froze. His face blanched in the harsh light as the horrifying truth clicked into place. "Did Dominic force you into becoming a cleaner?" he asked in a horrified whisper.

Audrey gave a slow, defeated nod.

Arthur ripped at his tie, loosening it as thick veins popped at his temples. The horror in his eyes shifted into a blazing fury. "That bastard! Had he not done enough when he dragged you into the penitentiary two years ago? Now he is torturing you again! I am going to hunt that son of a bitch down and make him pay!"

Blinded by rage, he turned on his heel, marching with heavy, stomping steps toward the direction of the club.

Audrey grabbed his arm with whatever strength she had left. Being drained of energy, she dug her heels into the hard pavement, dragging him to a halt with a desperate pull. "Do not bother. You are no match for a monster like Dominic."

Arthur punched his own chest in sheer agony, his voice breaking into a raw roar into the night. "What am I supposed to do, then? Am I supposed to just sit back and watch him mangle you to death? What kind of a brother does that make me?"

Footsteps approached from the shadows. Penelope walked up in worry over the explosive noise, her eyes darting between the siblings.

Audrey dropped her brother's arm, shutting the conversation down. "Think of your own children, Art. Think of your future. Do not let your anger get the better of you. It is getting late, and I am heading back."

She turned her back to him, gesturing for Penelope to follow her down the block.

"Drey!" Arthur shouted from behind her.

Audrey stopped in her tracks. She kept her back turned, refusing to let him see her face.

His voice cracked, heavy with agonizing, guilt-ridden pain. "I am sorry."

Audrey felt her throat grow thick and hoarse, struggling to push out the next question that had haunted her for so long. "It has nothing to do with you. My ruin is my own fault for loving the wrong person. Mom and Dad... have they asked about me at all?"

Silence stretched down the freezing street. Arthur's agonizing inability to speak was the only answer she received.

Audrey fought back a surge of bitter, humiliating tears. "Good night, Art. Remember, do not act rashly."

She hurried toward a taxi idling by the curb, climbing into the backseat with Penelope close behind. As the cab pulled away from the curb, the harsh reality settled over her tired bones. She stared out the smudged window, watching the city lights blur into streaks of cold color. The agonizing truth sat heavy on her chest. She discovered that her parents had erased her from their lives, discarding her as if she had never existed. But the worst part was that she did not even have the right to blame them for turning their backs. She had only herself to blame for trusting a monster. Her ruin, her filthy clothes, her destroyed reputation—all of it was simply the grueling price of loving the wrong man.

Penelope sat beside her, sensing the crushing weight of her despair. She pulled a soft tissue from her bag and handed it over in silence.

The drive back was a blur of neon lights and quiet misery. By the time the taxi dropped them off, the cold wind was biting at their skin once again. The two women dragged their exhausted bodies up the narrow, creaking stairs and returned to their cramped dorm. The overhead lights were already out, plunging the small room into shadows.

They slipped through the door, trying to step lightly in the pitch-black space to avoid waking anyone.

Hazel's mocking voice rang out from the suffocating darkness. "Do you two have no civism, monkeying around in the middle of the night? Can anybody get some sleep in here? Never mind, forget I ever asked. I should not expect manners from a convicted murderer and a cheap escort."

Penelope flushed with anger at the insult. She slammed her bag onto her bed and faced Hazel's side of the room. "Ask yourself this, Hazel! Who is the real nuisance here? You talk on the phone until the early hours of the morning and disturb everyone else's sleep! How dare you call me an escort! I am as much of a hostess as you are, and I have never done any shameless deals!"

Hazel rolled her eyes, her silhouette shifting under the thin blankets. "So what if I talk on the phone? Am I not allowed to sleep early on the days I am not making calls? I got tired of my phone and wanted to sleep. I had just put it down, and then you two came marching in, disturbing me with all your noise."

Penelope pointed at her, her finger shaking with rage. "You were still glaring at your bright screen when we opened the door!"

Hazel let out a loud, sickening snort of arrogance, the sound echoing in the tight space. "I am not asking for much here. Since the two of you are in the wrong, you must apologize right now and bow deferentially. Is that so hard for a pair of lowlifes to understand?"

Penelope stood frozen by the bed. The sheer, unapologetic shamelessness of Hazel's demand left her rendered speechless, waiting in the dark to see what would happen next.