Chapter 1
ALANA
Alana drags the mop over the linoleum of the nursing home, holding her breath against the sting of bleach.
It’s quiet there at night, only the hum of the vending machine down the hall and the swish of her mop dipping in and out of the bucket.
She’s almost done with the common room when she realizes Ben isn’t anywhere in sight. Typical.
She glances toward the far end of the hall and spots him propped against a doorway, mop in hand as if about to have his picture taken. His head is bent over his phone, his face a ghost-blue glow from the screen.
Putting the mop aside, she walks toward him with purpose. She already knows her boss is slacking and hates having to remind him it’s work time.
A few steps away, she hears a faint sound—low, breathless.
She frowns. A patient?
Her shoes scuff the floor on approach, but Ben remains oblivious. Doesn’t even look up. She reaches his side, glances at the screen… and her heart jumps from her chest.
Two pink tips bouncing in unmistakable close-up.
“What are you watching?” She staggers back as if the image has burned her.
Her voice startles him. In his scramble, the earpiece tangles around the mop handle he’s supposed to be working with.
His phone almost falls into the bucket of water, but he saves it just in time. The relief on his shoulders says it all. When he raises his head, an accusing glare lands on Alana, but she rolls her eyes and ignores him.
“You’re supposed to be cleaning,” she adds, waving her arm over the room that should have been finished ten minutes ago.
There’s no heat in her tone. With her gentle eyes and steady voice, she rarely sounds angry, but she doesn’t wait for him either.
She walks back to her bucket to resume the chore herself. This room’s the only one left to clean, and she wants to finish so she can go home. It’s nearing midnight.
They have been contracted to clean the facility, which is the type of job that can be done at night without worrying that the cops will barge in at any moment and demand work permits.
The cops in America are efficient, but not enough to conduct raids on undocumented citizens in the dead of night.
“I was watching a video,” Ben says, abandoning his mop to follow her.
She barely reaches his chest. Towering above most, Ben’s easy on the eyes and exudes what many people would call charm.
“Must be some video if it has all your interest,” she replies, not bothering to glance at her boss as she continues with the task at hand.
A low ponytail holds back her long hair. She wears faded jeans and an oversized black hoodie that matches her hair color.
At first glance, she may look ordinary, but with the determination of a lion, it’s no exaggeration to say that she leaves a big impression on Ben.
“Oh, you have no idea,” he replies, taking out his phone and bringing it to her face.
Her large brown eyes grow wider, and her cheeks flush with embarrassment the second time. She only sees naked bodies pushing and pulling before she shoves the phone away, taking a step back with a frown.
Her heart races as she watches Ben try to silence the obnoxious sound from his phone. When he succeeds, her boss looks at her with amusement.
“You’d think I’m showing you something criminal.”
“How can you be watching that here?” Her voice is almost scolding. “It’s a nursing home.”
He rolls his eyes. “I can assure you that America doesn’t have reservations about such things, but that’s beside the point. Did you see the man in the video?”
When she doesn’t reply, he adds, “He’s the one who’s all over the news for the leaked threesome. What I just showed you is that video. Your virgin ass should learn to relax.”
She ignores the one million replies that come to her mind and turns back to the job at hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t care about him. You should mind your own business and not pay so much attention to someone else’s sex life.”
“Well, I’d pay attention to yours if there were any,” Ben says, and she doesn’t have to look at him to know that he is wiggling his brows. “But seriously, his family is one of the richest in this country. Think the Kardashians, but without the entertainment, well…except maybe if you factor him in, then it’s entertaining.”
“Who are the Kardashians?”
Ben stops and looks at her. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just ask me that.” Shaking his head, he adds, “There’s more to life than work, Alana. You need to pay attention to what’s happening around you. This is news, current events! Do you know that one of those women is a popular actress?”
“We have less than an hour to finish cleaning.”
“And she’s not the one getting fucked, at least not when you interrupted me.”
“Ben!”
“Aish, I’ll stop. Someone would think you’re the boss here.”
Her phone rings, cutting her off. Her mother’s name flashes on the screen, and her pulse jumps. She wipes her damp hands on her pants before swiping to answer.
“Lana,” her mother says, voice coming out shaky.
“Ma, is Papa all right?”
“He collapsed again. I brought him to the hospital,” her mother says between tears that make the words hard to understand. But Alana is so used to this happening that she picks up every word immediately.
She knows Ben is watching her, but she doesn’t pay him much attention. He moves out of her way to resume the cleaning.
“The doctors… they said we need one hundred thousand,” her mother says. “I don’t have that much—”
“I’ll send the money, Ma,” Alana replies. “Don’t worry about it.”
When she hangs up, she pulls open an app—one of those that promises fast international transfers—and sends the money to her mother.
It’s nearly two thousand dollars, but she doesn’t think much about it. If anything, she’s grateful that she has that amount at hand. It’s not every time her mother calls that she has enough money. This is one of the good days.
Her phone slips from her hand and back into her pocket. She closes her eyes—just for a breath—and in her mind’s eye, she sees home: her mother’s rough, capable hands, her father’s tired smile from where he lies on their narrow bed. Longing breaks through the numbness—a single, hot tear slipping down her cheek. She presses her palm to her mouth, swallowing the ache.
“Is your father all right?” Ben’s voice cuts softly.
She blinks, wiping the tear away before he can see.
“Yeah, he’ll be okay,” she says.
She has to believe it.
A/N: I’ll be updating this story daily, so it’ll move very fast. Next chapter is the billionaire heir, Marcus Crown 😍
