His Deception, Her Destiny In London

"The position has been waiting for you for three years, Elaine. Just say the word." The voice on the phone was calm, deep, and familiar. It was Evan Mcknight, her former mentor, now a world-renowned architect.

An hour earlier, she' d signed papers for her younger brother, Kelsey, to be moved to palliative care. The experimental treatment that could save him required a fifty-thousand-dollar deposit she didn' t have. Her savings were gone, and her business, built from scratch with her boyfriend, Brett Vega, was a success, but he' d locked her out of the accounts.

As she stood up to pawn her Patek Philippe watch, a commotion erupted. Brett burst through the doors, cradling Daniella Chen, who was wailing dramatically about a sprained ankle. He didn' t even glance her way.

He spotted her, pulled her into a supply closet, and hissed, "What are you doing here? This is all part of the plan. I' m making her think she' s won." He stuffed five hundred dollars into her hand, telling her to leave before Daniella saw her.

He thought she was there for money, for pocket change. She let the bills fall to the floor. He was so good at lying, at performing. He didn' t see her brokenness, her grief, only an inconvenience to his grand scheme.

It was over. She knew it with a certainty that was both terrifying and liberating. It was time to go to London.

Chapter 1

"The position has been waiting for you for three years, Elaine. Just say the word."

The voice on the phone was calm and deep, a familiar sound from a lifetime ago. Evan Mcknight. Her graduate school mentor. Now a world-renowned architect in London.

"Everyone in the London office knows your name. They think I' m crazy for keeping a senior partner spot open for a student I haven't seen in seven years."

Elaine Mccray leaned her head against the cool, sterile wall of the hospital waiting room.

"I' ll take it," she said, her voice flat.

She hung up the phone.

The silence of the hallway was heavy, broken only by the distant, rhythmic beep of a machine.

An hour ago, she had signed the papers. Kelsey, her younger brother, was being moved to palliative care.

The experimental treatment that could have saved him required a fifty-thousand-dollar deposit. She didn' t have it. Her savings were gone, spent on the endless cycles of conventional treatments that had failed.

Her business, the firm she had built from scratch with her boyfriend, Brett Vega, was a success. But her share of the profits was untouchable. Brett had locked her out of the accounts. He said it was temporary, a business move. He said a lot of things.

She had been cut off from friends and even her own family, who all thought she was living a perfect life in New York City with her brilliant, successful partner. They didn't know she was alone.

She had tried everything to get the money. Loans were rejected. Friends she hadn't spoken to in years didn't pick up the phone. Her world had shrunk to this single, desperate need.

Her thumb traced the cool metal of the watch on her wrist. A Patek Philippe. A gift from Brett on their fifth anniversary. He had told her it was an investment, a symbol of their future.

Its real value was supposed to be a safety net. Now, it was just a reminder of a promise that meant nothing.

She had already checked online. A quick appraisal offered eight thousand dollars. It was a cruel joke. Enough for a few more weeks of pointless medication, but nowhere near the life-saving fifty thousand.

Still, it was something. She took a deep breath, ready to find a pawn shop, ready to do anything.

As she stood up to leave, a commotion erupted at the end of the hall. A man burst through the doors, a woman clinging to his arm.

Elaine' s blood ran cold. It was Brett. And with him, Daniella Chen.

The screen of Elaine's phone, which she was still holding, shattered as it hit the polished linoleum floor. She had been bumped by a nurse rushing toward the noise.

Brett didn't even glance her way. His entire focus was on Daniella, who was wailing dramatically about her sprained ankle. He cradled her as if she were made of glass, his face a mask of concern.

"The one with the sprained ankle gets all the attention," a woman sitting nearby muttered to her husband. "That's how it is. A little drama gets you everything."

Elaine quickly bent down to pick up her broken phone, hiding her face. She couldn't let them see her here. Not like this.

But it was too late. Brett, after settling Daniella with a nurse, spotted her. His face changed. He strode over and grabbed her arm, pulling her into an empty supply closet.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed, his voice low and urgent.

"And why are you with her?" he added, his eyes darting toward the hallway. "I told you, this is all part of the plan. I' m making her think she' s won."

He reached into his wallet and pulled out a few bills, stuffing them into her hand. Five hundred dollars.

"Go. Get out of here before she sees you. This will ruin everything. Just trust me."

Elaine looked down at the crumpled bills in her palm. He thought she was here for money. For pocket change.

A bitter laugh almost escaped her lips. She was standing in the same hospital where her brother was dying because of this man, and he was giving her hush money.

She said nothing. She just opened her hand and let the five hundred dollars fall to the floor.

Brett' s eyes widened, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. He was used to her compliance, her quiet understanding.

"Elaine, don' t be difficult," he said, his voice softening into the manipulative tone he used when he wanted something. "Just a little longer. I' m about to close the deal. The penthouse is almost ours."

The penthouse. The plan. Their future. It all felt like a story from someone else' s life.

She felt nothing. The part of her that could feel betrayal had already been carved out. The part that could feel hope was with Kelsey in a room down the hall, fading with every beep of the monitor.

She had lost everything. The company she co-founded. The man she loved. Her family, who she couldn' t bear to tell the truth.

And now, Kelsey.

She saw it clearly then. The Brett she loved didn' t exist anymore. Maybe he never had.

The closet door creaked open, and a nurse peeked in. "Excuse me, are you with the patient who just came in?"

Brett jumped, startled. He glanced back at Elaine, his eyes pleading.

He answered the nurse, his voice smooth and charming again. "Yes, that's my... colleague. Is she okay?"

He was so good at this. Lying. Performing.

Daniella' s voice echoed down the hall, a shrill, demanding cry. "Brett! Where are you?"

Brett grabbed Elaine' s shoulders. "Go home. I' ll call you later. We' ll sort this out."

He looked at her, expecting her to nod, to accept his story, to be the good, patient girlfriend she had always been.

But Elaine just stared back at him, her eyes empty.

He didn't see the brokenness. He didn't see the grief. He only saw an inconvenience to his grand scheme.

He let go of her and rushed out of the closet, his footsteps echoing as he ran back to Daniella.

Elaine stood alone in the dim light, the smell of antiseptic filling her lungs.

She slowly bent down, not to pick up the money, but to wipe Brett's touch from her arms.

It was over. She knew it with a certainty that was both terrifying and liberating.

It was time to go to London.