2025-07-14 00:02:27The city skyline glittered like a crown, but Sarah Chen’s office felt like a prison. Her desk was piled with papers about Chen Industries’ new factories.
She wore a tight red dress, her prison scars hidden under makeup, but her eyes burned with hunger. Charles Walker’s dirty money—cocaine and trafficking cash—had brought Chen Industries back, and now Sarah needed allies to keep it alive. Sophia Chamberlain’s Woman of the Year win last night stung like a slap, but Sarah was ready to fight. She leaned back in her creaky chair, scrolling through her phone. A news alert popped up: *Sophia Chamberlain Opens New School, Donates $5 Million.* Sarah’s grip tightened, her nails clicking on the screen. “You’re not winning, Sophia,” she muttered. “I’m coming for you.” Her lawyer, Mr. Lee, knocked and shuffled in, his tie crooked. “Sarah, the FBI’s still sniffing around,” he said. “Your bribe sca
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Sarah stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the strap of her designer sports bra. Her hair was tied into a tight ponytail, her face bare except for a swipe of lip gloss. Today, she would show them she was calm, healthy, and powerful. “This will work,” she whispered to herself. Kara stood in the doorway, holding a clipboard. “Ms. Chen, the influencer spa event starts in thirty minutes.” Sarah turned, forcing a smile. “Let’s go.” The luxury rooftop spa was bright under the morning sun, steam rising from glass pools, soft music playing from hidden speakers. Influencers in matching robes walked around, filming themselves with smoothies, laughing quietly as they posted to their stories. “Spa day with #ChenIndustries.” “Queen Sarah comeback.” “#HealthyQueen.” Sarah stepped onto the deck, her steps confident, her robe crisp and new. She walked past the influencers, nod
215
Sarah stood in the cold morning air, her breath fogging as she adjusted her coat. The charity event banners flapped in the breeze: “Chen Industries Gives Back.” A small stage had been set up in front of a local children’s shelter, cameras positioned to capture her “redemption.” Kara stood beside her, holding a clipboard, checking the schedule. “Ms. Chen, the press is ready.” Sarah took a deep breath, forcing a smile. “Today, we show them who I am.” The small crowd included local reporters, influencers with ring lights, and a few curious parents holding their kids. The shelter’s director, a kind woman with tired eyes, stood nervously near the podium. Sarah stepped forward, her heels clicking on the stage. She looked out at the cameras, her smile wide, arms open. “Thank you for coming,” she said loudly, her voice carrying. “Today is about the future. Today is about giving back.” The influencers f
214 - SARAH CHEN AGAIN?
Sarah sat at her desk in the penthouse, staring at the empty glass in front of her. Her eyes were puffy, and her hair was tied up messily. She had stopped wearing makeup in the mornings. She didn’t see the point anymore. But today was different. Today, she would take control. Kara peeked in, holding a phone. “Ms. Chen, the podcast team is ready. They’re setting up downstairs.” Sarah didn’t move at first. Then she stood, her voice hoarse. “Good. Let’s do it.” Downstairs, the living room had been turned into a small recording studio. A “Chen Reborn” banner hung behind the microphone stand. Two producers set up cameras, adjusting lights while an assistant placed bottled water on the small table. Sarah walked in, wearing a clean white blouse, trying to look calm. She didn’t smile. She didn’t need to. “This will change everything,” she said softly
213 - THE RED CARPET
Sarah stood in the kitchen of her penthouse, staring at the trays of food on the counter. Cold bagels. Lukewarm coffee. Leftover fruit from yesterday, cut and rearranged on a silver platter. This was not what she wanted. “It’s fine,” she muttered to herself. “They’ll come for me, not the food.” Kara hovered in the corner, clutching a tablet. “Ms. Chen, the catering canceled. The payment didn’t go through.” Sarah’s eyes snapped to her, sharp and cold. “Shut up, Kara. It’s fine.” The penthouse was cold, the giant windows showing the gray city outside. The dining table was set with the best plates she had, but the cheap food looked out of place under the crystal chandelier. She adjusted the flowers in the vase, forcing them to look fuller than they were. Her phone buzzed. Damien’s name. She answered immediately. “Damien. I need you here,” she sa
212 - NO WAY!
Sarah stood in the kitchen of her penthouse, staring at the trays of food on the counter. Cold bagels. Lukewarm coffee. Leftover fruit from yesterday, cut and rearranged on a silver platter. This was not what she wanted. “It’s fine,” she muttered to herself. “They’ll come for me, not the food.” Kara hovered in the corner, clutching a tablet. “Ms. Chen, the catering canceled. The payment didn’t go through.” Sarah’s eyes snapped to her, sharp and cold. “Shut up, Kara. It’s fine.” The penthouse was cold, the giant windows showing the gray city outside. The dining table was set with the best plates she had, but the cheap food looked out of place under the crystal chandelier. She adjusted the flowers in the vase, forcing them to look fuller than they were. Her phone buzzed. Damien’s name. She answered immediately. “Damien. I need you here,” she said quickly, tryin
211 - GROUNDED
Sarah walked through her penthouse, her heels clicking on the cold marble, the lights of the city blinking outside. She hadn’t slept in two days. Her phone was dead somewhere under a couch. She didn’t care.Kara trailed behind her, holding a list. “Ms. Chen, you need to approve the new strategy—”“No,” Sarah snapped. “We’re going to London. Call the jet.”Kara paused. “London?”Sarah turned, her eyes red, her hair messy. “There’s a conference. Deals. Investors. We fix everything.”At the private airport, Sarah stepped out of the black car, wearing dark glasses and a gray trench coat. Her lips were pale, but she lifted her chin as the cameras outside the terminal spotted her.“Sarah, are you fleeing the country?” a reporter shouted.Sarah ignored them, walking toward the private terminal doors as Kara rushed behind her with bags. Inside, the marble floors gleamed, quiet except for the low hum of private jets outside.
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