The soft glow of the phone screen cast a pale light over Eliane's tear-stained face. She lay curled in her narrow bed, the walls of her apartment closing in like a cage. The silence was thick, broken only by the occasional sob that escaped her lips. Her fingers trembled as she scrolled through job listings. Nothing. No position came close to offering the amount she needed—not just for herself, but for her mother whose hospital bills grew heavier with each passing week.
"Why am I like this now?" she whispered, voice hollow. "I tried to be good. I tried to teach, to help, to stay strong..."
But strength came at a cost. And hers was running out.
A ping echoed through the quiet room. A new post. Eliane wiped her eyes and tapped it open.
Matteo Industries: URGENT HIRE - Personal Maid to CEO Payment: 4x standard academic salary. Private quarters. Strict discretion.
She stared at the screen, her breath catching in her throat.
"Of course... It's him," she muttered. "He took my job, then dangled this like bait. He wanted this. To humiliate me."
But humiliation meant little when your mother couldn't afford her next treatment.
Eliane rose, moving like a ghost through her room. She ironed her plainest dress, tied her hair back, and packed her old CV. Before stepping out, she looked in the mirror one last time. No makeup. Just resolve.
"If this is the price," she whispered, "then so be it."
She drove in silence. Her hands trembled slightly on the wheel. Her stomach twisted as Matteo's towering office came into view. She parked, stepped out, and stood staring up at the glass building that once stood as a symbol of his dreams....and now hers.
She walked in, blinking away the fresh sting of tears.
Annelise stirred on the cold couch, her body curled tight for warmth. She had nothing left to wear. Her wardrobe had been stripped, her rooms claimed, her identity trampled. Dressed in nothing but her undergarments, her skin prickled with cold and shame. Even the air seemed to mock her.
Suddenly...
SPLASH.
Cold water drenched her legs. She shrieked, flailing up as the freezing sensation tore through her sleep-drenched daze.
"Wake up, sunshine," Merci said coldly, standing with an empty jug. "Don't want our little pet getting too comfortable."
The doorways filled with figures.....Yvette, Rosa , Julienne ,Cleo , and Vivienne .....each wrapped in Annelise's silks, her furs, her carefully curated elegance. They looked like her ghosts.
Julienne twirled in a sequined dress. "Mmm. So soft. Shame you don't own it anymore."
"What do you want from me?" Annelise whispered, voice cracking.
"Everything," Vivienne said simply. "Everything you are. Everything you've built. Oh...and a sweet Swiss sum in the millions."
Annelise laughed bitterly through her tears. "I-I don't have that kind of money! My savings aren't even a tenth of that!"
Cleo's eyes gleamed. "Then earn it. We don't care how. But no modeling. That world's closed to you now. You're tainted."
Annelise clutched the throw pillow against her chest. "Please..... this was my whole life. I can't just leave..."
Rosa interrupted with a loud mocking tone. "'I can't leave modeling,'" she mimicked. "News flash: no one wants a model with a scandal attached to her name."
Yvette smirked. "Unless it's in a different kind of shoot."
The room exploded into cruel laughter.
They circled her like schoolyard bullies in heels, stealing what little dignity she had left. They pulled at her hair, poked her ribs, whispered taunts into her ears.
"You were never that pretty. Just lucky." "Guess the world finally saw through the glitter." "Merci told us how you used to cry behind dressing rooms. Pathetic."
Annelise couldn't stop the tears now. She wasn't crying....she was breaking. Piece by piece. Her image, her name, her home. All stolen. All mocked.
Merci sat on the armrest, legs crossed like a queen. She leaned down close, fingers gently stroking Annelise's damp hair.
"You remember when I said karma was real?" she whispered, then yanked hard. "This is it. And you, darling.... are someone else's property now."
The others laughed, slowly fading into the rooms they now called theirs. The chandelier sparkled above her like a crown she'd never wear again. And Annelise lay there, on a soaked cushion, trying to remember the last time she felt like a person.
Back in Matteo's building, Eliane sat in a waiting room. She clutched her CV like a shield.
She wasn't sure what hurt more...what she had to become... or who had made her become it.
But she wasn't here for pride. She was here for survival.
And somewhere, in the same city, Annelise whispered through her tears:
"I don't know who I am anymore."
Two women. Two cages. One city.
The price of silk was now measured in shame.
And the taste of salt.... never left their tongues.