Bound by Betrayal

Sophia's POV

The eviction notice fell from my hands to the floor.

I looked down at the official letter, trying to keep the tears from blurring the words at the top of the page in bold black letters which read, in part, that we had thirty days before we had to close down our studio. That was the remaining time we had in the space that had been both home and haven for three years.

I looked around the small studio, the walls with their exposed brick covered in fashion sketches and fabric swatches, my vintage sewing machine I had bought from a thrift shop, my mannequins adorned with half-finished designs. This place had been a physical realization of my dreams.

I notice the dust motes dancing in the sunlight coming through the big industrial windows, clearly showing the nearly empty display rack in the corner which was supposed to hold our finished pieces, but held just three. A hand-embroidered jacket inspired by my Chinese heritage, a lovely body-skimming evening gown incorporating unexpected structural elements, and a day dress that uniquely mixed Western designs while maintaining Eastern details.

I picked up the notice and my hands trembled a little as I read it for what felt like the hundredth time. But it did not change: rent tripled in thirty days.

"How are we going to afford this?" I asked the empty space.

The building had changed hands a number of times since we moved in and our rent stayed the same-which was awesome luck in New York City's competitive real estate market. That was gone now, and with that, our dreams of a business.

My phone buzzed on the cutting table. Displaying a smiling photo of Lily. Perfect timing.

I took a deep breath and forced some cheer into my voice. "Hey, Lil! How's my favorite future doctor?"

"Exhausted, but excited," she replied. I could hear the fatigue in her bright voice. "We just had an awesome cardio workshop, and I think I'm actually starting to get the hang of it."

I smiled in spite of everything. At just twenty-two, Lily had inherited our mom's scientific mind and kind heart. A perfect combination for her to follow through with her lifetime dream of being a medical doctor.

"That's great," I said, moving towards the window. "I have never doubted you for a second."

"Well, speaking of doubts..." she drew out her words in that way I had come to recognize "There is a lab project coming up, and we need to buy some pretty specific equipment..."

My stomach turned. I stared at the eviction notice still in my hand.

"How much?" I asked, keeping my voice from shaking.

"Three thousand," she said quickly. "I know that is a lot, but it is mandatory for our final evaluation, and I would never ask if there is another option..."

I closed my eyes while I visualized our almost empty bank account. Between paying rent at the end of the week and the supplies to create the very few orders we had, we were already wiped out. But five years ago when our parents died, I made a promise to them that I would do everything I could do to ensure she accomplished her goals by giving her the education she desired, even if it was at the expense of mine.

"It's not a big deal," I lied smoothly over the phone. "Business is picking up a bit. I can send you the money by weekend."

"Really?" The relief in her voice was easy to detect. "You're the best, Soph! I promise I'll pay you back when I am a fancy doctor earning six figures."

I chuckled, the sound hollow even to me. "I'll hold you to that. Maybe when I'm a famous designer dressing up celebrities, you can be my private physician."

"You've got a deal," she said, and I could hear her smile through the phone. "Oh, I have go, I have anatomy lab class in five minutes. Love you!"

"Love you," I echoed, but she had already hung up.

I placed the phone down and rested my hands on the cutting table, shoulders slumped from the weight of responsibility, three thousand dollars I didn't have for Lily, rent I didn't have, and a company that was on its last legs.

Hearing the sound of the shop bell, I quickly wiped the wetness from my eyes and stood up.

"We're closed!" I called out, not bothering to turn around.

"Good thing I'm not a customer then," answered the voice of Elena Rodriguez, her warm Spanish accent filling the air with ease.

I turned as she walked in, looking radiant and beautiful in a stylish red wrap dress and flawless make-up, holding coffee and pastries in her hands.

"You look terrible," she said, taking a good look at me as she set the pastries and coffee down on the table.

"Wow!" I replied with a scowl, taking the cup from her. "Just what every girl wants to hear."

But Elena wasn't wrong though, I did look terrible. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror across the room, I noticed the dark circles under my eyes and my olive skin looking pale and washed out due to too many sleepless nights.

Elena looked curiously at the notice in my hand. "What is that?"

Wordlessly, I handed her the notice and she read it quickly, her perfectly arched brows pulled together.

"They're tripling the rent? They can't do that!" Her voice became indignant.

"Actually, they can." I said, "We're month to month, remember? They have thirty days to give us notice of any changes." I settled into the worn chair next to my desk, holding my coffee in my hands. "We can barely afford the rent as it is, Elena. There's no way we're going to be able to pay triple."

Elena put the notice down very carefully. "Okay. Let's try to look at this clearly. How many orders do we have right now?"

"Three," I gestured toward the rack of completed garments. "The jacket for the Thompson wedding, Mrs. Garcia's gala dress, and the Johannsen day dress."

"And prospective orders?"

I shrugged. "A couple of inquiries. Nothing concrete. Our regulars love us, but-"

"-we don't have enough of them," Elena interjected. She began walking back and forth across the room. "We need exposure. We need to get your designs in front of people who can actually afford them."

"That takes connections we don't have," I reminded her. "Or money that we definitely don't have."

Elena stopped walking back and forth, a slow smile forming on her face. "Not necessarily."

I looked up at her suspiciously. "What are you up to?"

"The charity fashion gala on Friday night," she exclaimed.

My heart sank. "The gala with $5000 tickets?"

Elena's expression became sly as she dug into her handbag. She pulled two, embossed invitations. "What if I told you my cousin Javier is catering the event, and his boss's wife happens to be a huge fan of that cocktail dress I showed you last season?"

I focused on the invitations, anxiety wrestling with the excitement in my belly. "Elena... if we get busted-"

"We won't," she said, and pushed one of the invitations into my hand. "We'll be like Cinderella, if Cinderella was going to the ball to get funding, and not a prince."

Despite everything, I laughed. "That's definitely not how that story goes."

"Well, I feel it should be," Elena said, sipping from her coffee. "Princes are seriously overrated, financial independence is king."

I held the invitation in both hands. The Met Gala-New York's elites, designers, investors, influencers. If just one person saw something in my work... it could turn the tide.

"Okay," I finally said. "Let's go."

"Yes. That's my girl!" Elena shouted, her eyes then landing on her phone. "Let me make a list of all the people we need to target. You finish that jacket for Thompson so we at least have some income coming in for the month."

Elena began typing on her phone, I picked up my coffee and took a long sip, the heat and caffeine settling my nerves as I began to feel the faintest flicker of hope.

"By the way," she said, glancing up from her phone, "you won't believe why the rent has tripled! Montgomery Industries just bought out the whole block!"

I froze, "Montgomery Industries?"

"Umm hmm, that big conglomerate owned by the 'Ice King' himself!" Elena flipped her phone around for me to see the bold headline on an article in a business news site.

"Xavier Montgomery. Rumor has him buying up half of Manhattan. And now, apparently, our small corner of it."

"Well," I said, putting my coffee down with newfound resolution, "let's just hope Mr. Montgomery doesn't like charity gala fashion shows. I certainly don't want to meet him for the first time as I beg him not to evict us."

I turned away from the glowing screen back to the eviction notice on my desk. One way or the other, I had to find a way out of this, for the business, for Lily, and for the promise I made to my parents. And I had thirty days to do so.