Second Chance: Beta's Rebirth

[Calista's POV]

"Why hasn't this project been completed yet? I anticipated it would be finished by now!" I yelled.

"I apologize for the delay, but I've been unable to complete the project as expected." The employee standing in front of me said.

"I don't want excuses! I assigned you this task with a deadline, and your inability to deliver is causing major setbacks for the entire team. I need this project completed as soon as possible." I said in a loud voice.

"Understood, ma'am. I will make it my top priority to complete the project as soon as possible," she nodded.

"I employed you with the intention of generating profits, not to hear excuses. Only profits and money." I said.

"Due to challenging market conditions, we are currently devising strategies to enhance our revenue."

"Strategies? I'm not interested in hearing about strategies; I want tangible profits! Your excuses or market conditions hold no importance to me," I yelled.

In anticipation, I tapped the small nameplate on the glass table in front of me and introduced myself, "I am Calista Mathur."

She squinted her eyes as she read the nameplate, and her gaze landed on the person occupying the boss's chair, me. With disheveled hair and plain attire, I am referred to as my boss. She shifted her gaze back to the nameplate, and quietly uttered the name inscribed on it: 'Henry Jones.

"Calista Mathur"

"Calista Mathur"

"Calista Mathur"

Suddenly, I was jolted awake as someone vigorously shook me from my slumber.

"What's going on?" I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and repeating my question, still feeling groggy. "Emma, why have you disturbed me so urgently? What catastrophe has occurred that awakened me in such a frenzy?"

"The boss has arrived and summoned you to his office," Emma replied, flashing her row of teeth.

"Is he here?" My eyes, which were only partially open, suddenly widened.

"Yes, and he also has your file," Emma said with a joyful tone, placing her hand on my shoulder. "It seems that your loan will be approved this time."

As Emma's words sank in, I felt a sudden rush of excitement. The loan I had been anxiously anticipating, the one that held the potential to rescue my family, was about to be granted. A wave of relief flooded over me, washing away the months of anxiety that had burdened me.

Filled with a newfound optimism, I swiftly tidied my appearance, smoothing my shirt and fixing my hair, as I headed towards the boss's office. Along the way, I untangled the jumbled thoughts in my mind and began formulating plans for how I would utilize the loan.

With my hand firmly grasping the doorknob, I glanced at my boss's nameplate, which read 'Henry Jones'. After giving the door a gentle knock, I turned the knob and entered the office.

Henry peered at me from above his glasses and gestured for me to enter. He held a file in his hands, the name clearly written on the front page.

He exuded a sense of style, sporting a Dior watch that hinted at his wealth. His age could be estimated from the few wrinkles around his eyes that he would be at least 50 years old. He wasn’t one of those people who always wore black and white clothes like an artist in a painting.

"Sir, has my loan been approved?" I inquired about the status of my loan immediately upon arrival.

"I have submitted your application to the chairman, but unfortunately, your loan has been rejected once again," he responded.

"But why, sir? I included all my hardships in the application, my mother is currently in the hospital and..."

"Calista!" Henry interjected, raising his voice. "You are deceiving us; your mother passed away six years ago."

Upon hearing this, I cast my gaze downward, as I found myself devoid of any further inquiries. I was well aware that I had committed a serious error by concocting my mother's condition. Desperation had clouded my rationality, and now I had to confront the repercussions.

He furiously tossed my loan file onto the glass table, his gaze fixed on the computer screen before him. The bright light illuminated his face, revealing his own reflection staring back at him. The expression etched on his face was far from joyful, with his lips tightly pressed together.

I collected my file and exited the office with a heavy stride. Each step became increasingly burdensome for me.

"What happened? Did you get a loan?" Emma inquired as she emerged, but her words trailed off upon seeing my expression. "Seriously, again? I don't know how many times you've applied, but still? This Henry Jones is something else." She shook her head in disappointment.

"It's fine," I responded, my voice trembling slightly. "I...I'm going home now." I placed the file against Emma's chest and proceeded to pack my belongings from the desk.

Emma seized the file and opened it, her eyes widening in astonishment upon seeing its contents. "10 million?" she exclaimed, glancing at me, who wore a vacant expression.

"How were you planning to repay such a substantial loan if you had obtained it?"

I silently continued packing my things. I have no answer to her question. Though I appeared composed, Emma could discern the slight trembling in the stronger beta's hands.

"What's this?" She picked up another document from the file and examined it. "A termination letter?" Her voice resonated with more anger than surprise towards their boss.

"How can he terminate your employment simply for requesting a loan? I will speak to him," I quickly intervened, holding her hand to prevent her from taking action. "If you get involved, you will also lose your job, so let it go."

"But let me have a conversation with him," she insisted, freeing her arm from mine.

"Actually, it was my mistake," I admitted, avoiding eye contact.

"Is it really your fault? How could it be?" She attempted to meet my gaze.

"It's entirely my fault. I lied when applying for the loan," I confessed.

"You lied?" She asked in a hushed tone.

I tightly pressed my lips together, unable to bring myself to repeat the admission.

"Well, if you're not ready to share the details now, that's alright," she said, observing my face for any signs of sadness, pain, or despair. "Go home and rest, don't stress too much. I will also help you find another job."

"Thank you for being so understanding," I managed to utter these few words.

After leaving the office, I stood on the road for a while. When a taxi honked loudly nearby, I looked startled.

"Where would you like to go, ma'am?" the taxi driver asked as I sat in the back seat.

"Take me home!" I replied, settling into the taxi.

"Yes, of course, but where is your house?" the taxi driver inquired, glancing at the rearview mirror.

"Eldoria," I responded with a single word, falling silent thereafter and gazing out the window at the passing cars. Each vehicle triggered a new memory from my past.

It seemed as though misfortune had followed me since birth. My parents, burdened by poverty, struggled to provide for their family. They could barely afford to put food on the table, let alone offer me any luxuries or opportunities. I was a shy and introverted child, often overlooked by her peers.

My classmates relentlessly teased me, leaving me feeling isolated and alone. Despite my best efforts, I could never seem to fit in or find my place in the world. As the years went by, my misfortunes only multiplied. Six years ago, a fire engulfed my house, resulting in the tragic loss of my mother.

My mind wandered back to that fateful day when the fire consumed their home. The flames danced mercilessly, devouring everything in their path. I had tried desperately to save our belongings, but it was all in vain. The fire had taken away not only my material possessions but also his husband's trust in me.

He blamed me for the fire, for their misfortune, and for the never-ending cycle of bad luck that seemed to follow me like a shadow. I couldn't help but feel responsible. After all, my father's gambling addiction had left us drowning in debt, and I had foolishly taken on a loan he couldn't repay.

The weight of my failures pressed heavily on my shoulders, crushing my spirit day by day. I had become a prisoner to my own circumstances, trapped in a never-ending cycle of despair. The world outside seemed to move on without me, while I remained stuck in this dark abyss of depression.

Today marked my daughter's sixth birthday, yet I had never heard her voice nor had the chance to meet her in person. The only glimpse I had of her existence was through photographs, which I suspected were sent solely to extract money from me by my husband.

The divorce had been messy, with accusations and blame thrown around like daggers. But amidst all the chaos, my daughter had become a pawn in our twisted game. Fear and desperation consumed me. I couldn't bear the thought of my daughter being used as a bargaining chip.