BENNY'S HEART

Benny jolted awake to the loud, angry banging on the door.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Her heart slammed against her ribs as she got up from the tiny mattress, her head

spinning from exhaustion. The sun wasn't even fully up yet, and already, trouble was knocking literally.

BENEDICTA! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!

The landlord shouts.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to move. Her body ached from another sleepless night of studying, looking for legit online gigs, and stressing over her unpaid rent.

She tiptoed across her, cluttered apartment, her bare feet freezing against the wooden floor. Maybe if she stayed quiet, he'd think she wasn't home.

BENEDICTA, IF YOU DON'T OPEN THIS DOOR, I WILL BREAK THE DOOR.

She flinched. This man was serious.

Taking a shaky breath, she unlocked the door. It swung open so fast she had to step back.

Mr. Handerson, their very impatient, very unforgiving landlord, stood in the doorway, his face twisted with anger. His oversized belly stretched his faded gray sweater, and the strong scent of cheap cologne mixed with sweat filled the air.

Morning, sir, she said, forcing a polite tone.

Forget morning! Where is my money? His sharp gaze swept over the tiny apartment, landing on the unwashed dishes in the sink, the stack of law textbooks on the table, and finally on her. You promised me last month that you'd pay. Where is it?

Benny clenched her fists. She had no answer.

I just need a little more time sir, she said, with a tiny voice.

Mr. Handerson scoffed. That's what you said last month! If I don't see my money in one week, I'm filing for eviction.

Her stomach dropped. Sir, please..

No begging! I'm tired of stories. ONE. WEEK.

With that, he turned and stormed down the hallway, his boots thudding loudly against the floor.

Benny shut the door slowly, pressing her forehead against the cold wood. ONE WEEK.

Where was she supposed to get that kind of money in One week?

Her phone buzzed.

She sighed. It was her mother.

Benny hesitated before declining the call. She already knew what her mom would say she needed money for groceries, her younger brothers school fees were overdue.

She just felt so depressed, at this point.

Her legs felt weak as she sank onto the bed.

She couldn't cry. Not now.

She had to fix this.

Her eyes flicked to her laptop. Maybe there was still hope.

---

Hours later, Benny sat in front of her laptop, her fingers trembling over the keyboard.

Her exam results had just been released.

Her chest tightened as she clicked on the portal.

A few seconds passed. Then the numbers popped up.

Her stomach twisted violently.

Failed. Again.

No No, no, no!

She pushed back from the desk, her hands shaking. Her half ride scholarship was at risk.

If she failed one more course, shed lose everything.

The pressure was unbearable. Rent, bills, school fees, school pressure how was she supposed to survive?

Her phone buzzed again. Her mother.

Benny closed her eyes and ignored it.

The weight of poverty, failure, and hopelessness pressed down on her, suffocating her.

She buried her face in her hands, and cried.

God, why me? Her voice cracked. I work so hard. Why do I keep failing?

A sharp knock yanked her back to reality.

Benny! Are you in there?

Her roommate, Tasha.

Benny quickly wiped her face and tried to look normal.

Tasha, a tall, confident girl with caramel skin and a sharp tongue, stepped inside, her eyes narrowing at Benny's expression.

You look like someone stole your last slice of pizza, she said.

Benny let out a hollow laugh. "Worse".

Tasha gaze flicked to the laptop screen. The red Fail glared back at them.

Damn, girl, Tasha whispered.

Benny exhaled shakily. If I fail again, I'm done. No more scholarship, no more school, no more dreams. Just being depressed and poverty like I was always meant for.

Tasha brows furrowed. Okay, first, you are NOT meant for poverty.

Secondly, you need a real job sweetheart.

Benny scoffed. You think I haven't tried? I've applied everywhere fast food joints, online gigs, even those weird make money fast websites. Nothing works.

Tasha tilted her head. You ever tried ghostwriting?

Benny frowned. Ghostwriting?

Yeah, Tasha pulled out her phone. Rich people and companies hire writers to write books, articles and lots more for them.

Some of them pay crazy money.

Writing? For money?

It sounded too good to be true.

But at this point, she had nothing to lose.

For the next two weeks, Tasha gave Benny her paid online ghostwriting courses to study and taught her everything she knew about ghostwriting.

One evening, after spending hours searching for jobs, Benny saw something.

A multi-billion-dollar company was looking for an anonymous writer.

The pay? More money than she had ever seen in her life.

Her heart pounded.

This could be it.

Without hesitation, she spent hours crafting her application.

She wrote with passion, pouring her heart and soul into every word.

This wasn't just a job. It was her last chance.

She hit send.

Then, she exhaled and stared at the screen. Now, all she could do was hope and wait.

---

Five days later.

Benny was walking back to her apartment, exhausted and frustrated from another grueling day, when her phone suddenly rang.

An unknown number.

Her pulse quickened.

She hesitated before answering. Hello?

A deep, commanding voice filled the line. Is this Benedicta Williams?

She froze. Something about the tone sent shivers down her spine.

Yes who's this?

A pause.

Then, the words that would change her life forever.

"Congratulations Ms Benedicta Williams. We received your application for the Ghostwriter position, your skills stated on your application matched what we were looking for, You've been hired by Sterling & Co, and we request you start work Next week Monday".

Her breath caught. Was she imagining things?

Sterling & Co.

The biggest, most elite publishing empire in the world.

She just got hired. She felt like she was hallucinating, but it was real.

But what she didn't know was the man on the phone, was the ruthless billionaire heir of Sterling & Co.

And he was about to become her worst nightmare.