ISLA'S POV
The champagne glass in my hand was shaking.
I told myself it was excitement. Tonight, Marcus would officially announce our engagement in front of two hundred guests. Tonight, everything would be perfect.
I was so stupid.
Everyone, can I have your attention please? Marcus's voice boomed through the microphone, cutting through the party chatter.
The ballroom fell silent. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead. White roses covered every table. My father had spent money we didn't really have anymore to make this night special.
I smiled at Marcus from across the room, my heart fluttering. Three years together. Three years of love and plans and promises. In sixty seconds, he'd ask me to marry him officially, and I'd say yes, and—
I have an important announcement to make, Marcus said.
Here it comes. I smoothed down my cream dress, the one I'd saved three months to buy.
I'm breaking off my engagement to Isla Chen.
The words didn't make sense at first. Like he'd spoken a foreign language. The room gasped, but the sound seemed far away, underwater.
My smile stayed frozen on my face. This was a joke. A prank. Marcus loved pranks.
I know this is sudden, Marcus continued, his voice steady. Cold. But I can't marry someone who's... well, let's be honest. Too poor now. Too desperate.
Laughter erupted from somewhere in the crowd. Sharp, cruel laughter that cut through my chest like knives.
Her father's business collapsed, Marcus explained, like I wasn't standing right there. Like I couldn't hear every word. Fifty million dollars in debt. I can't tie myself to that kind of disaster.
Someone near me whispered loudly: She was probably trying to trap him for his money.
Gold digger, another voice hissed.
No. No, this wasn't happening.
Sophie Zhang, my best friend, the girl I'd known since college—stepped up beside Marcus. She wore a red dress. My favorite color. She slid her arm through his like she belonged there.
Marcus and I are together now, Sophie announced, her voice sickeningly sweet. We've been seeing each other for two months. I'm sorry, Isla, but he deserves someone on his level.
Two months. While I'd been working three jobs to help pay for this party. While I'd been planning our future. While I'd trusted her with my secrets and my fears.
The room exploded with whispers.
Did you see her face?
How embarrassing.
I always knew she wasn't good enough for him.
My legs started moving without permission. I pushed through the crowd, faces blurring together—some pitying, most enjoying the show. Someone's elbow jabbed my ribs. Someone else stepped on my foot.
I didn't feel it. Couldn't feel anything except the screaming in my head that this couldn't be real.
The ballroom doors burst open. Cold night air slapped my face.
I ran down the marble steps in my heels, my vision swimming. I wouldn't cry here. Not where people could see. Not where they could take photos and post them online and laugh.
The parking lot was dark except for one streetlight.
My car sat underneath it.
Except it wasn't my car anymore.
Red paint dripped down the windshield like blood. Huge letters screamed across the hood: PAY UP OR DIE.
All four tires were slashed, the rubber hanging in shreds.
A sob ripped from my throat before I could stop it.
The debt collectors. They'd found me here. At my engagement party. They'd destroyed my car as a message.
We're coming for you.
My knees buckled. I grabbed the car hood to stay upright, red paint sticky under my fingers. The cream dress, the one I'd saved for—was getting dirty. Ruined.
Everything was ruined.
Isla Chen? a gravelly voice called from the shadows.
I spun around. A man stood near the parking lot entrance. Short, stocky, wearing an expensive suit that looked wrong on him. Mr. Zhao. The head debt collector.
Lovely party, he said, walking closer. Shame about the engagement. But honestly, did you really think a boy like that would stick around?
Stay away from me, I warned, my voice breaking.
Ninety days, Miss Chen. That's all you have left. Fifty million dollars or your father's business isn't the only thing we'll destroy. His smile was terrifying. Accidents happen so easily. Sick fathers in hospitals, for example...
My phone started buzzing in my purse. I ignored it.
Leave my father alone, I whispered.
Then pay what you owe. Mr. Zhao checked his expensive watch. Clock's ticking. Oh, and your phone? You might want to answer that.
He walked away, disappearing into the darkness like a nightmare.
My phone was still buzzing. Vibrating against my hip. I pulled it out with shaking, paint-stained hands.
St. Mary's Hospital.
My heart stopped.
No. Please, no.
Hello? My voice cracked.
Is this Isla Chen? A woman's voice. Professional. Too calm. I'm calling from St. Mary's Hospital emergency room.
What happened? I couldn't breathe. Is it my father?
Your father, James Chen, was brought in twenty minutes ago. Heart attack. Massive cardiac arrest. You need to come immediately.
The phone slipped from my fingers, clattering on the pavement.
Daddy.
My strong, unbreakable father who'd raised me alone. Who'd worked himself sick trying to save his failing company. Who'd insisted on this party even though we couldn't afford it because he wanted me to have one perfect night.
One perfect night.
I started laughing. Horrible, broken laughter that didn't sound like me at all.
Behind me, music still played from the ballroom. Through the windows, I could see Marcus and Sophie dancing together. My guests eating expensive food. Celebrating my humiliation.
My father was dying.
My fiancé had betrayed me.
My best friend had destroyed me.
The debt collectors were coming.
And I was standing in a parking lot covered in red paint, my cream dress ruined, my life shattered into pieces so small I'd never put them back together.
I collapsed on the cold pavement, my whole body shaking.
Everything I loved just died in one night.
And somewhere in the darkness, I could hear Mr. Zhao laughing.
Ninety days to save my father.
Ninety days to find fifty million dollars.
Ninety days until they killed him.
The hospital was twenty minutes away. My car was destroyed. I had no money for a taxi.
My phone buzzed again where it lay on the ground. Another call from the hospital.
We're losing him, the nurse's panicked voice came through the speaker. If you want to say goodbye, you need to come now. We need payment authorization for emergency surgery, but without it—
The call cut off.
I stared at the dark sky, at the stars I couldn't see through city lights, at a universe that didn't care that I was breaking apart.
How do you choose between your pride and your father's life?
How do you find fifty million dollars when you have nothing?
How do you save someone when you can't even save yourself?
I didn't know.
But I had ninety days to figure it out.
Or everyone I loved would die.