Ninety Days Of Sin

(Rebecca)

"I'm sorry, the vacancy has been closed." Daniel's voice rang between us, a mix of regret and disbelief.

"What?!" I burst, my voice sharper than I intended. "What do you mean the vacancy's been closed? You asked me to come here!" My eyes narrowed on him, frustration boiling.

"Why are you taking it out on me?" He sulked, running a hand through his messy hair. "I told you to come, but the jobs were taken before you arrived. It’s not my fault."

"Then at least save one job for me," I nagged, refusing to back down. I mean, he worked in the HR department; surely, he could pull some strings.

"Then lose mine?" he challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," I nodded defiantly. "Being the assistant to the HR Manager would suit me perfectly."

His incredulous scoff didn’t faze me. Why would it anyway?

"Let’s talk over a drink," he suggested, and despite my anger, I reluctantly agreed.

In the cafeteria, we settled at a booth. As he ordered our drinks, I could feel his eyes on me, like he was assessing my state of mind.

"What?" I questioned, crossing my arms defensively.

"I'm just wondering how I managed to woo a beautiful woman like you," he replied with a playful grin that broke through my frustration.

I felt my cheeks warm. "Just don’t bore a hole in my face," I retorted, trying to regain my composure.

"But I’m sorry, okay? I never expected the vacancies to fill up that quickly," he said, a hint of sincerity in his voice.

"It’s fine," I replied, though my future was anything but fine. I sighed dramatically, "The problem is that my life seems to be on a one-way trip to disaster."

He leaned in, desperation creeping into his eyes. "Why don’t you ask your father for help?"

"And tell him what, exactly?" I scoffed. "Hey Dad, I need ten billion dollars for my gambling debts? Sounds like a great convo, right? He’ll kill me!"

Ever heard of Dr. Raphael Clement, founding preacher of Light's Path. Unfortunately, he's my father, the primary reason I'm living as a saint.

The day my misery began was a perfectly ordinary, yet unforgettable day. I had attended a friend's party, feeling carefree and buoyant amidst the laughter and light. But then, after a few too many drinks, I made a fateful decision to participate in a gamble—a bet that spiraled into an initial debt of two billion dollars as I lost spectacularly.

By the time sobriety hit, so did the harsh reality. I had deposited two billion dollars—money that wasn’t even mine, since I was the company accountant at the time. Adding insult to injury, I discovered I’d deposited into the wrong account. My victor was relentless and unapologetic; no matter how many times I pleaded, she wanted her winnings right there and then.

With a fight almost breaking out and her threats to make things public to the world, my back against the wall. With no other options left, I made a second deposit of two billion dollars from the company’s funds into her account, sealing my doom further.

And here’s where the real fun began. What should’ve been a spectacular night turned into the unraveling of my entire life. That very same day, I was discovered at the company and promptly fired. Hours later, I was being cornered, threatened to pay back my debts within six months or face jail time for theft.

Talk about debts multiplying! My once stable life collapsed under the weight of the ten billion dollars I owed, accumulated over the last two years. How sweet it was, really.

Now, the cherry on top of this delightful disaster? I was jobless and on the brink of financial ruin, loan sharks circling like vultures waiting for a chance to take a bite out of my already frayed existence. All while I relied on my boyfriend, Daniel, to keep me afloat. We met during our last year of college, and somehow, our bond had weathered more storms than I could count.

"So you're not going to tell him?" Daniel asked, his tone weaving between concern and frustration.

"Tell him what exactly, Daniel? What?" My voice laced with snark.

"The truth," he said, his expression shifting into something more serious. "Tell him the truth."

I scoffed, raising my glass in a mock toast. "If you don’t have anything constructive to add, maybe you should just leave."

He gently took my hand, brushing his thumb over my knuckles. "Babe, don't misunderstand me. I'm just saying that nothing stays hidden forever, your Dad will eventually find out about this. So what's the point of hiding it?"

"There is a point, Daniel. My father will kill me if he finds out about this," I replied, taking a gulp down.

"Even if he does find out, it should be after I'm out of this mess, not now, please." I added and he heaved a heavy sigh.

As we drowned out in our individual thoughts, a loud sound cut through our thoughts, jolting us immediately. We spurned our heads to the direction it came from, s nearby television whose volume was being turned down by a staff with a remote.

As the TV staff turned down the volume, I reluctantly glanced at the screen, my eyes scanning the advertisement with disinterest. The show's title, "Temptation Trial", caught my eye, but I wasn't impressed. Paired up with strangers, completing challenges... how cliché.

But then, the announcer's voice caught my attention: "...huge cash prizes, guaranteed publicity, and a chance to test the limits of love and loyalty." My ears perked up. How much cash?

I leaned in, my gaze fixed on the screen. The contestants looked like they're having a blast, and the stakes were high. Morally compromising challenges, public scrutiny... this was getting interesting.

"...contestants will be pushed to their limits, forced to confront their deepest fears and desires for ninety days," the announcer continued. "Are you ready to face the ultimate temptation for twenty billion dollars? Hurry! Only two spots remaining! Who would be the lucky two?!"

My mind was racing. This could be it – my ticket out of this mess. Twenty billion dollars... if I can just win that prize, I can pay off my debt, get my life back on track.

Daniel tapped my hand, noticing my fascination with the show. “Don’t tell me you’re interested in that.“

I turned to him, laughing lightly as I scoffed, “Interested? No! The last game I got into is what landed me in this mess!”

His expression shifted to a serious one, nodding curtly as if my words held more weight than I intended.

Glancing at his wristwatch, he stood up from his seat, the urgency settling in. “I have to get back to work now,” he said, handing me a few hundred dollars.

“Would you go grocery shopping for tonight’s dinner or—”

“No,” I interrupted, waving my hand dismissively. “You do it. I’m too demotivated to do anything right now.”

Heaving a resigned sigh, Daniel shook his head but couldn’t suppress a faint smile. “What would you like to have for dinner then?”

“Money,” I replied flatly, and he chuckled.

Leaning over, he pressed a gentle kiss on my lips, his warm breath brushing against my cheek. “See you at home,” he whispered before sealing his words with another soft kiss that lingered in the air like a promise.

As he walked away, a smile curled on my lips, but those words, “Twenty billion dollars”, echoed relentlessly in my mind.

“No! Ignore it,” I chanted silently, pushing the thoughts away, but it was like trying to resist quicksand; the more I struggled, the deeper I sank.

Breath hitching in my throat, I pulled out my phone from my bag and immersed myself in the online world with one singular aim: to get myself into the game.

Navigating to the show’s website, my fingers flew across the screen, filling out the application form with a sense of urgency. Name, age, occupation… but I hesitated. My real name? No way. Thanks to my dad’s fame, I was too well-known to use that.

I had to slip into anonymity. I conjured a name that was as fictitious as my hopes.

I hesitated at the "reason for applying" section. Do I say I'm desperate? Do I say I'm broke?

Screw it. I typed out a few words: "I need the money. I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

I submitted the form, my heart racing as I waited for the page to load. And then, another page popped up—upload an image.

Damnit!

I can't use my picture, what do I do?