Wrong Sister Claimed By The Mafia King

Seven Years Later

Kara stood at the front desk, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

"But... I was told to come today," Her fingers clutched the strap of her bag like it was the only thing holding her up.

The receptionist didn't even look up right away. When she did, it was with an annoyed sigh. Her smile was forced, eyes tired.

"The job is no longer available," Her tone was robotic. "If we have another vacancy in the future, we'll send an email. Do have a nice day."

Her voice held finality with her eyes drifting to the next person behind Kara. Her posture made it clear that she was done talking.

Kara bit down on her lower lip, trying to stop the tears that were already building up.

"Please... just email me if anything comes up," she mumbled with hope, turning around before they could see the first tear fall.

She kept walking, head down, heart sinking. As soon as she stepped past the last glass door, she stopped pretending to be strong.

The tears broke free and rolled down her cheeks. She didn't even bother wiping them away. Her chest felt tight, and her throat ached from holding back sobs.

She managed to walk a short distance before her knees gave out. She crouched near a wall, burying her face in her hands, crying silently. People passed by, some slowing down to look, but she didn't care.

She wasn't embarrassed but scared and tired. Scared of hunger. Scared of being homeless, and tired of wondering if she would be sleeping on the street next week.

She wiped her face with the back of her hand, stood up after a few minutes, and kept walking. Her heels pinched with every step, so she took them off and held them in one hand. The cold pavement stung her feet, but it still hurt less than everything else.

Seven years outside the orphanage, and nothing to show for it. She had spent the first three years saving every penny just to get a small apartment. And now she was about to lose that too if she didn't come up with the rent by the end of the month. Two weeks left. No money. No job.

Thinking about it only made her cry more. Every job turned her down. She didn't have enough work experience, and her one certificate didn't get her far.

Her phone rang suddenly, pulling her out of her thoughts. She sniffled, brushed her messy hair aside, and dug through her bag to find it.

It was her roommate calling.

She ended the call with a hiss. Lina was the last person she wanted to talk to right now. But the call came in again. And again.

With a frustrated groan, she finally answered.

"Why the hell are you calling me?" she snapped, her voice raw.

"And you think I'm jobless like you to keep calling for fun?" Lina's voice fired back. "I just paid my part of the rent. The landlady says we'll be kicked out if you don't pay..."

Kara hung up.

She didn't have the strength for her jabs today. The girl never passed up a chance to remind her she was broke. Her words hit harder now, especially when her last hope just shattered before her.

Her eyes blurred again with fresh tears, and her mouth turned downward in frustration. She wasn't watching where she was going anymore.

A loud screech of tires made her jump and before she could react, the car came to a sharp halt just a few inches in front of her. The shock sent her stumbling backward and falling on her butt.

For a second, she just sat there, stunned by how close it was. But then something inside her snapped. She hated how easy it was to imagine disappearing from this world.

"Just kill me," she whispered bitterly, slowly lifted her face to the car in front of her.

"Just hit me and drive off! It's not like anyone will bury me unless my bitch roommate suddenly grows a conscience."

Her voice cracked as she ranted, "I've got no one. Dying will save me from these bills and pain so just press the damn accelerator already!"

Her head dropped.

She didn't understand what she had done wrong to deserve a life like this. Why had her parents abandoned her at that orphanage? Why had she been left to suffer?

She didn't notice the car door open, or the footsteps approaching, until a pair of black shoes appeared in front of her.

She looked up slowly. A man stood there, staring at her with a stunned expression. She quickly looked away and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

"Don't look at me like that." Her voice was hoarse, "If you almost hit me and feel guilty, you can skip the pity. I promise my ghost won't haunt you if you run me over right now."

"Emilia..." the man almost cut her off.

She looked up again, confused. He had crouched in front of her now, holding her cheeks like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Her brows drew together. He was... weird.

Tall, good-looking, with a face that seemed both shocked and relieved at the same time. He smelled really nice too, like an expensive soap and sin. But there was this undeniable deadly aura about him. That moment, she forgot she was crying.

Before she could say anything, he pulled her into a hug.

She gasped. "Hey! What..."

"I found you," he murmured, his voice cracking slightly. He was hugging her too closely as if she was a treasure. She was too stunned to move.