In Bed with my Billionaire Mistake

The glass didn't just shatter.. it exploded.

A sharp crack, then a thousand tiny shards flying across the counter like angry little stars. I blinked at the mess, still holding the whiskey bottle in my hand, even as the drunk asshole on the other side stumbled back, clutching his nose and swearing.

“Jesus, Sophie !”

Mike’s voice came from behind me, panicked. His shoes crunched across the floor as he rushed over, grabbing the guy before he could swing at me.

“I didn't mean..” I started, but my voice caught. I hadn't meant to hit him. I hadn't even known I was still holding the bottle that tightly.

He'd said something.. about my mom, I think. I don’t even know how he knew, or if he was just taking shots in the dark, but my brain lit up like a fuse.

“You're done,” Mike growled, not at the guy, but at me. “That’s it, Soph. I've covered for you too many times.”

“I can clean it up,” I said quickly, heart hammering. “I'll pay for the damage.. ”

“No.” He didn't look angry. Just… tired. Disappointed in the way people get when they've already given up. “You've had complaints for weeks. You show up late. You smell like you've been drinking, even when you haven’t. And now this?”

The guy was still cursing as he was helped out the door. A few customers stared. I could feel their eyes like heat on the back of my neck.

I opened my mouth to argue. Closed it. My hands were shaking.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Mike sighed. “I know things have been rough. I’m sorry too.”

And that was it, he didn't offer a second chance.

**

Outside, the winter air slapped me across the face. I tugged my coat tighter, the wind slicing through me like it had teeth. My phone buzzed in my pocket.. Matt.

~Where are you? You were supposed to be home an hour ago. ~

I didn't reply. I just started walking.

My legs took me home on autopilot. Past the closed corner store. Past the apartment building where some kid once sprayed my dad’s truck with shaving cream and thought it was hilarious. Past the empty lot where the bakery used to be.. the one my mom used to take me to for cupcakes when I got good grades.

It had been a year. One whole year since the accident. Since I sat in the back of an ambulance, blood on my hands and glass in my hair, while someone told me I was the only survivor.

Only survivor.

Like it was some kind of prize.

They’d died instantly. That’s what the coroner said. Swerved off the road in the rain. Truck flipped three times. I was in the backseat, texting Matt, ironically. Seatbelt saved me. Not that it felt like a win.

After the funeral, the sharks came circling. My dad’s “ investments ” had been more like massive debts. We lost the store. The land. Even the cars. The house was the only thing they couldn't touch.. my mother had insisted it be in my name when I turned eighteen. Some old- fashioned safety net.

So now that house is all I have. No family. No job. No future. Just one house and a boyfriend who..

I shoved the thought away as I pushed open the door to our apartment.

Matt was on the couch, controller in hand, eyes glued to the screen. He didn't even look up.

“You're late.”

“I got fired.”

He paused his game and finally turned to me. “What the hell did you do this time?”

“Some drunk came at me. I reacted.” My voice cracked a little. “I didn't mean to break anything, but Mike’s done covering for me.”

Matt stood up slowly, rubbing his face. “ Unbelievable. You know we needed that money.”

“I know,” I said. “I'll figure something out.”

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “That’s rich. Figure it out how, exactly? You gonna start painting again? Sell some grief art on Etsy?”

I flinched. “Don’t.”

He waved me off and walked into the kitchen. I followed, hoping.. I don’t know.. for a hug? A crumb of reassurance?

Instead, he turned and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Well, you were going to leave anyway..” He paused, my brows furrowed. “I made a few calls.”

That surprised me. “What?”

“I got you something. A new job.”

I stared at him. “ You… what kind of job?”

He looked too smug. My stomach twisted.

“There’s this club.. ”

“No.”

“Just hear me out. It’s not shady or anything. It’s legal, clean. High-end.”

I stepped back.. it's not what I'm thinking please. “You want me to dance?”

“It’s good money,” he said quickly. “Way more than you make at the bar. A few grand a week, easy.”

“ Matt, are you serious?”

He shrugged. “I lost some money last month, okay? I was trying to double the rent, but.. ”

“You gambled it?” My voice went up, sharp with disbelief.

“I thought I could fix things for us,” he snapped. “But it didn't work out. So now we need real money. And you, you still have that house. Unless you want me to sell it to pay these people off, this is the only option.”

My chest tightened. “You're threatening to sell my parents'house unless I strip for strangers?”

“I’m trying to help,” he said, almost like he believed it.

I stared at him. At the boy I’d been with for three years. The boy who held me when I screamed myself awake after the accident. The boy who brought me soup when I forgot to eat. The boy who now wanted me on a pole to pay his debts.

“I can’t believe you,” I whispered.

“Then don’t,” he said, and walked away, leaving me standing there, stunned.

I closed my eyes. Bit my lip so hard it bled.

Something inside me whispered, This is just the beginning.

And God help me.. it was right.