Chapter 8
I dragged my suitcase into a café, eating a sandwich while calculating how much money I had left.
Over these years, I looked glamorous on the outside, dressed in fancy clothes and wearing luxury jewelry whenever I went out.
But the money I could actually use was pitifully little.
To put it nicely, I relied entirely on William to support me at home.
But only people in the Brown family knew I was just a decoration.
In novels, there were scenes where the CEO hands the female lead an unlimited black card and tells her to spend freely. I experienced that too, but reality wasn't so comfortable.
In most wealthy families, girls who weren't from matching backgrounds were seen as gold diggers with ulterior motives toward the man's fortune.
And in Harper's eyes, I was exactly that a scheming gold digger.
At her insistence, even though William gave me an unlimited black card, I had to provide detailed explanations for every penny I spent.
Early in our marriage, I ate at a Mexican restaurant and used the black card. Less than five minutes later, I got a call from Harper, asking in a roundabout way where I was and who I was with.
I couldn't stand this monitored life, so I stopped using William's card except for unavoidable large expenses.
Fortunately, I didn't care much about material things and wasn't into comparing myself with others. Most of my daily spending was just on food.
So from our marriage until now, I'd been using the money I saved before getting married.
Over time, my personal savings had dwindled to almost nothing.
I'd suggested getting a job, but Harper and William both refused.
In their words, if the Brown family's daughter-in-law went out to work, people would think the Brown family was mistreating me, which would embarrass them.
But here was the thing; they said I couldn't work, yet they wouldn't give me money either. They only gave me a card, and I got questioned about every penny I spent.
Sometimes, to attend important events, I'd buy an outfit, only to have Harper scrutinize it with judgmental eyes, then order me to return it and buy something else because she didn't like it.
I looked wealthy on the surface, but I was actually poorer than the servants.
I took out the unlimited black card William gave me from my wallet and smiled bitterly.
I didn't even need to check - I could guess the card had already been cancelled by William.
I opened my mobile banking app and looked at my bank account balance, less than five hundred dollars. I sighed helplessly.
This amount wasn't even enough to split the rent with someone.
No job, no money, no place to live, where could I go?
Did I really have to swallow my pride, give in to William, go back, and maintain our marriage in name only, living under Harper's constant control?
No!
Absolutely not!
I refused to believe that in all of Emerald City, there wasn't a place for me!
It was just a job; if I couldn't make money with my brain, I'd use my strength!
Though I was prepared for the worst, I still wasn't ready to give up on the design industry.
So I first tried applying to several small design companies. Each time, just when they were about to tell me I was hired, the HR person would suddenly step out to take a call.
When they came back, they'd apologetically say, "Sorry, the position has been filled. Maybe we can work together next time."
I lowered my standards further and looked for jobs at small print shops on the street, applying for printer positions that didn't require technical skills.
But the result was the same.
What was there not to understand?
'William, what a move! Fine, go ahead and block all my paths!' I thought.
I was born stubborn; the more he used these dirty tricks to force me back, the more I refused to give in.
Worst case, I'd go wash dishes at a restaurant!
I put my resume full of awards and honors back in my bag and looked at the restaurant across the street. As long as the job posting said room and board included, whether it was a waitress or dishwasher, I went in to interview.
But the restaurant owner took one look at how I was dressed and waved me off without even asking questions.
"Miss, we're just a small business. Please don't joke around with us. This place isn't right for you."
As the sky darkened, I dragged my suitcase for three blocks, swallowed my pride, and interviewed at every restaurant and café, big and small.
Finally, before nightfall, I successfully interviewed at a fast-food place, and the manager, seeing my suitcase, immediately arranged a dorm room for me.
"It's too late today. Stay in the dorm first and get to know your roommates. Tomorrow morning I'll arrange training for you. One month probation period, two meals a day included. Probation salary is $2,200, after that it's $2,800 base plus commission, four days off per month. Can you accept that?"
"Yes!"
At that moment, for someone homeless like me, having food and shelter solved was worth it even without pay.
But I celebrated too soon.
Just as I put my suitcase in the dorm and was about to go out for dinner, the supervisor came running over in a panic. "Wait, hold on."
The supervisor, out of breath and leaning on her knees, looked at me with hesitation.
I sensed something and frowned. "You can't keep me, can you?"
"Right."
"Can I ask you one favor?"
"Go ahead."
"Can I stay in the dorm for one night? I'll leave first thing tomorrow morning."
This was the most desperate I'd been in my entire life.
But seeing the manager's lips pressed tight and her pitying look, I already knew the answer without her saying anything.
"Sorry for the trouble." I sensibly pulled my suitcase and quietly walked out of the dorm, heading down the corridor with no end in sight.
At 10:30 PM, I wandered the streets aimlessly.
Emily sent a message: [How did it go? Was training smooth today?]
My nose tingled with emotion. I sat down on a park bench and replied through tears: [Pretty good, the seniors at the company are all taking good care of me.]
Emily: [That's great. When you finish training and officially start, I'll treat you to dinner.]
[Okay.]
I put away my phone and stared at the vast night, not knowing where home was.
"Hey, beautiful, what are you doing here alone so late?"
"Beautiful, did you have a fight with your boyfriend and run away from home?"
Suddenly, I heard two men's sleazy voices behind me.
I frowned and turned around, only to realize four or five homeless men in tattered clothes with scraggly beards had somehow appeared behind me.
I immediately became alert and stood up, wanting to leave this dangerous place.
But these men were faster, blocking all my escape routes.
The leader, showing his yellowed teeth and reeking, walked toward me. "Beautiful, don't rush off. Let's be friends."
"Get out of my way, or I'm calling the cops." I pretended to be fearless, taking out my phone and acting like I was about to call the police.
I thought they'd be scared, but to my surprise, when they heard this, they all laughed smugly, showing no fear at all. "Haha, go ahead and call. We're just looking for a place to get a meal."
"Beautiful, you're making things hard on yourself. We just wanted to chat with you, but now that you're calling the cops, we might as well have some fun with you before we go to the station."
A creepy man next to them, missing a tooth and looking at least fifty years old, rubbed his hands together and moved closer with a nasty smile.
I backed away in panic, but two other men's hands blocked me from behind.
"Don't go, we're not bad guys. We just saw you were in a bad mood and wanted to chat."
A strong sense of danger overwhelmed me. Just as they reached out to grab my phone, a rock suddenly flew from the side and hit one of them right in the head.
