---- Chapter 10 Chapter 10 Kyle Lopez POV: The world had shrunk to the four walls of a cheap, pay-by-the -week motel room that smelled of stale cigarettes and despair. My days were a monotonous blur of sending out résumés and getting no replies. The name Kyle Lopez, once a golden ticket, was now a mark of Cain. Aimee's quiet blacklisting had been devastatingly effective. No one would touch me. My money was gone. | had sold my last remaining asset-a vintage watch Aimee had given me-for cash to keep a roof over my head. | was eating one meal a day, losing weight, the sharp angles of my face a testament to my downfall. One afternoon, | was staring at my reflection in the cracked bathroom mirror. | didn't recognize the man staring back. His eyes were haunted, his face gaunt. This was the price of my betrayal. My phone, a cheap prepaid burner, rang. It was a number | didn't recognize. "Hello?" "Is this Kyle Lopez?" The voice was female, professional. ---- "Who is this?" "My name is Clara. I'm the executive assistant to the Chairwoman of Ramirez Industries." Ramirez Industries. She had renamed the company. She had erased my name completely. The final nail in the coffin of our shared legacy. "What do you want?" | asked, my voice a raw whisper. "Ms. Ramirez would like to offer you a position." Hope, a feeling so foreign it was painful, flared in my chest. A position? Was this it? Was she finally ready to talk, to forgive? Was she offering me a way back in? "What position?" | asked, trying to keep my voice steady. There was a slight pause on the other end of the line. "The night janitor position at the main corporate tower is open. The hours are midnight to 8 a.m. The pay is minimum wage. Ms. Ramirez thought you might be interested, given your familiarity with the building." The line went silent. | could hear the faint hum of the motel's air conditioner, the distant wail of a siren. The hope in my chest curdled into a cold, hard knot of humiliation. A janitor. Cleaning the toilets in the empire | had built. It was a punishment of such exquisite, calculated cruelty that only Aimee could have devised it. She wasn't just content with my ---- ruin; she wanted a front-row seat. She wanted to watch me scrub the floors of her new kingdom. Any sane man would have told her to go to hell. Any man with a shred of pride left would have slammed the phone down. But | was no longer a sane man. | was a desperate one. And this cruel, humiliating offer was the only lifeline she had thrown me. It was a chance to be near her, to see her, to breathe the same air. It was a chance to show her how far | was willing to fall to earn back even a fraction of her notice. "I'll take it," | whispered, the words tasting like ash and surrender. "When do | start?"