Women Like you

Sara and Jenny blew up the last few balloons, their cheeks aching from all the puffing. The small cabin they had reserved in the upscale restaurant was finally coming together—elegant yet cozy, nestled in one of the city's high-end districts.

The three-tiered, night-sky-themed birthday cake stood on standby, held carefully by a server. A pile of extravagant gift boxes gleamed in one corner, their luxurious wrapping reflecting the warm overhead lighting. The tablecloth, the decorations, and even their dresses were all coordinated to perfection.

In short, this was top-notch.

Sara placed her hands on her hips, surveying their work with satisfaction. "I think we're good to go." She struck a pose like a proud dad admiring a freshly mowed lawn.

Jenny glanced down at her phone and gasped. "Okay, she's here!" She clenched her fists in excitement, ready to greet Ashley.

As the doors swung open, both she and Sara inhaled deeply, ready to burst into song—

"Hap—"

"NO!"

The sharp voice cut through the air, freezing them in place.

Ashley stood in the doorway, her cherry-coke-colored hair slightly tousled, thick eyeliner framing her almond-shaped brown eyes. Her expression was one of pure exhaustion.

"Not another damn birthday song today. Don't sing. I need a bottle of wine and some serious venting."

There was a brief silence.

Then—POP!

Sara's party popper accidentally went off, sending a shower of glitter and sparkles into the air.

Ashley slowly turned her head, locking eyes with her in a deadpan stare.

"I said I don't want this."

Sara swallowed and awkwardly hid the empty popper behind her back. "That was... an accident," she mumbled, inching closer while Jenny, sensing the crisis, quickly flagged down a waiter.

Sara gently pushed Ashley toward a chair, concern etching her features. "What happened? Why do you look so down?"

Ashley exhaled a shaky breath before blurting out, "I broke up with Liam!"

And just like that, she burst into tears.

Jenny froze mid-motion, her finger still hovering over the wine menu on her phone. For a second, she just stared at Ashley, then hurriedly finished placing the order and waved the waiter away.

Sara, meanwhile, pulled back slightly, her brows furrowing.

"...Again?"

"Sara, this is serious! I'm telling you!" Ashley nagged, her voice thick with emotion.

"I am so over him! He's such a red flag, and he doesn't care about my feelings. It's finally over! Him!" she wailed, burying her face in her arms.

Sara sighed and patted her back. "Okay, okay. Tell me what happened? Let's try to figure things out."

And so, Ashley began her rant—and so did the wine bottles.

Before anyone could fully grasp what was happening, they were already three bottles deep, drowning in their own sorrows.

"You know what?" Sara slurred, her words heavily soaked in alcohol. She wobbled slightly before raising her glass.

"Tonight is for our mutual sorrows! Ashley, to your breakup. Jenny, to your pending Promotion . And to me!" She paused dramatically, tilting her head. "For the emptiness in my life!"

Her words carried a hint of sorrow, yet she couldn't quite recall why she felt so hollow.

"Cheers!"

The three clinked their glasses together before chugging their drinks.

Just as Sara set her glass down, Jenny's eyes snapped open wide.

"Girlies! I have an idea!" Ashley suddenly declared, sitting up with newfound excitement.

Sara, her half-opened, sparkly blue eyeshadowed lids blinking sluggishly, glanced at Ashley with a sleepy yet seductive gaze. Her glittering bodycon dress shimmered under the dim restaurant lights.

"Yeah? What is it?" she asked, her voice drunken and lazy.

Ashley grinned mischievously. "I can't do anything about my breakup, and Jenny can't do anything about her pending promotion… but you know what we can do? We can eliminate the emptiness in Sara's life!

Let's find her a husband!"

She raised her glass with a triumphant roar.

Jenny, equally intoxicated, immediately shot her hand up in agreement. "YES! To Sara's future husband!"

"No! I don't want a husband!" Sara protested, waving her arms.

But it was two against one. There was no way out.

Ashley smirked. "I saw a ton of expensive cars parked outside. This is a place where rich guys hang out. What if we… I don't know… left some phone numbers on their cars?"

Sara's jaw dropped.

"Are you sick?!" she blurted, horrified.

But Jenny, fully on board now, wobbled to her feet. "Let's goooo!" she announced, barely able to stand.

Meanwhile…

An hour had passed since Blue's disappearance.

There was no sign of her anywhere.

No CCTV footage. Nothing.

It was as if she had vanished into thin air.

Sofia's nerves were stretched thin. She paced back and forth across the room, her hands clasped tightly together.

Vladimir was waiting at the mansion, desperate to see his grandchild—who was nowhere to be found.

"What do you mean you lost her?"

Augustine's voice was cold, sharp.

A deep frown creased his forehead as he stepped out of the meeting room, only to be met with this news.

Then, like a flash, the last moment he saw her played in his mind.

The elevator doors closing.

The way she had stood there, just before disappearing from his sight.

She was right there.

His jaw clenched.

"She was just there—how the hell did you lose a child?!" he snapped, his voice dropping to a deadly growl.

His piercing gaze swept over the room. "Where was security?"

No one had an answer. His throat felt constricted, frustration clawing at his insides like a wild animal. "I'm coming back to the hotel," he bit out, his voice sharp as a blade. "And I better see her there when I arrive. Or else."

He didn't need to finish the threat. The weight of his fury was enough to send shivers down the spine of anyone listening.

Striding out of the building, his long legs carried him to where he had parked his car not long ago. The night air was sharp, the wind cutting through his suit like tiny daggers. His jaw clenched. What was she wearing when I last saw her? The thought was unbidden, unwelcome, and yet it came. It was cold—too cold.

Just then, in the dim glow of the streetlights, something caught his eye. His mood darkened further.

A woman.

Plastered against his windshield, scribbling something in red like some desperate fool marking territory.

His eyes narrowed, a vein twitching at his temple. His patience was already running thin, and now this?

In two swift strides, he was there. Before she could react, his fingers clamped around her wrist like a steel trap, yanking her away from the windshield and slamming her back against the side of the car.

A sharp gasp left her lips.

Sara's breath hitched as her back met the cold metal. Her wide, startled eyes met his—black, seething pools of contempt. There was a flicker of something in them for a split second, something unreadable. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by pure, unfiltered disgust.

"Filthy," he spat, his voice dripping with venom, eyes raking over her like she was something rotten.

"Huh?" Sara blinked, caught off guard. Her mind barely registered the way Ashley was in the distance, giggling as she drew hearts on another car's windshield, Jenny egging her on.

His grip tightened around her wrist. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" His voice was low, menacing. "Who gave you the right to touch my things?"

Sara felt her knees weaken. "I-I was just—" she stammered, feeling the burn of his gaze like fire searing into her skin.

"You were just what?" He sneered. "Whoring yourself out in the hopes I'd take notice?" His lips curled in cruel amusement. "Is that how desperate you are? You think scrawling your number on my windshield will make me so weak in the knees that I'll come running after you?"

Sara's stomach twisted. "Wait, what? No, that's not—"

"Pathetic," he cut her off coldly, leaning in just enough for his breath to ghost against her face, suffocating her with the scent of his cologne and contempt. "Pathetic. If the escort business has gotten so bad that they're recruiting ugly, worthless trash like you, then I almost feel sorry for them." His eyes flicked over her, deliberate and degrading. "Cheap. An eyesore."

Sara's breath hitched, her fingers curling into fists. "What did you just say?" She tried to shove his hand away, but he didn't budge.

"If you were the last woman alive, naked and begging on the street, I'd rather rot than touch you," he sneered. "You're a disgusting, worthless lowlife."

With that, he shoved her off, sending her sprawling onto the pavement like she was nothing more than trash at his feet.

Sara barely had time to catch herself, palms scraping against the rough ground as she sucked in a shaky breath.

He didn't spare her another glance.

Unlocking his car, he slid into the driver's seat, pulling out a pack of tissues with an exaggerated scoff. Aggressively, he wiped his hands—as if she had tainted him—before crumpling the tissues and tossing them at her feet.

The door slammed shut.

And with a sharp rev of the engine, he was gone.