Chapter 1: First Day Blues (And They’re All Staring)

I don't belong here. This isn't me. But here I am, standing in front of the towering glass doors of Mercer Industries, feeling like a tiny speck of dirt on a spotless floor. My fingers fumble with the ID badge clipped to my chest—Cadence Morgan, Janitor. I hate it already.

My feet, hidden in worn-out off-white sneakers, shuffle awkwardly. They're the only part of me I can't stand—like, seriously, if I could chop them off, I would. Almost born with Down syndrome, almost, but these feet, they're the reminder. Ugly, deformed, and hidden under layers of fabric. No one sees them. No one will. Ever.

I suck in a breath and push through the doors. The air inside is cold. Like a hospital. Or a morgue. Everyone's too busy to notice the new janitor—except they do. Eyes trail me as I walk through the lobby, whispers following like ghosts. I know what they're thinking: Who let *her* in?

Keep your head down, Cady. Just get through the day.

I clutch the handle of my cleaning cart, my fingers trembling slightly. It's my first day, but it feels like the world's already against me. They don't know me, don't know where I come from, but it's written all over my face—poor, struggling, barely holding on. My clothes, neat but cheap, scream desperation.

"Excuse me," I mutter, making my way through the maze of suits and heels. No one moves. They don't need to. I'm invisible.

The elevator dings, and I step inside, the doors closing behind me with a metallic thud. I'm alone now, just me and my thoughts—dangerous territory.

My mind drifts to the past, to the days when I was just Cady Morgan, the girl who got picked last in gym class, the girl who hid in the library to avoid the taunts and jeers. They called me "Clumsy Cady," "Weird Feet Morgan." Kids can be cruel. But so can life. I was the kid who never fit in, who never had a place, even at home. Mom tried, but Dad… he couldn't even look at me.

The elevator jerks to a stop on the executive floor, snapping me back to reality. The doors slide open, revealing a pristine hallway. I step out, gripping the cart like it's a lifeline. This is where the big shots work, where the air smells like power and money. And fear. 

I round a corner, lost in my thoughts, and crash—hard—into something solid. My cart tips over, cleaning supplies scattering across the marble floor. My heart sinks as I scramble to pick them up.

"Watch where you're going," a deep voice snaps.

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. Slowly, I look up, meeting the cold, piercing gaze of Tate Mercer. The Tate Mercer. CEO, billionaire, god in a suit. And he's staring right at me like I'm something he scraped off his shoe.

"I—I'm sorry, sir," I stammer, my voice barely audible.

He doesn't reply, just watches me with those icy blue eyes. I can't read his expression. But I can feel it—the disdain, the annoyance. I'm nothing to him, just another insignificant speck in his world.

He steps around me, not even bothering to help, and I'm left there, on my knees, picking up the pieces of my mess. My hands shake as I gather the scattered items, fighting the urge to cry. This day couldn't get any worse.

As I finish, I notice something—something strange. The women up here, the way they dress, the way they act around him… it's not normal. There's something off, something wrong. And I can't shake the feeling that whatever it is, it's tied to Tate Mercer.

I push the cart forward, eyes glued to the floor. Keep your head down, Cady. Just get through the day. But deep down, I know I've just stepped into something dark, something that will change everything.

And it all started with a crash.