The Blackened Odds by Mark Twain 5
Chapter 5
Once the industry blacklisted me, surviving got harder than I’d ever thought. I couldn’t find work anywhere in
music. Not even low-end diners would hire me once they saw my name.
My landlord evicted me without notice-claimed the rent was overdue, but I saw the fear in his eyes.
I dragged my suitcase through the streets after midnight, Mom’s urn wrapped in my only coat, pressed tight
against my chest.
I had maybe a few crumpled bills to my name. The cuts on my hands had gone untreated too long. They’d
started to fester, hot and swollen.
I could barely curl my fingers at all anymore. Nowhere in the city would take me. Julian’s influence was a
wall closing in, leaving me cornered.
Rain hammered down as I hunched under an overpass. Water soaked through my clothes until I was shaking
hard. I held Mom’s urn close. It was all I had left.
I resigned myself to the thought that I’d end up dead of infection in some alley no one bothered to check.
A black Bentley pulled up in front of me. The window rolled down. A man with a calm, refined face looked out
at me. “Ms. Carter?”
He stepped out with a black umbrella and came toward me, shielding me from the downpour.
When I looked up, I recognized him. Adrian Grayson, the world-famous pianist. He’d been my hero once, everything I’d wanted to be.
Adrian’s eyes dropped to my hands. His expression went tight. “Please. Let me get you to the hospital.”
I didn’t move.
His voice was gentle. “I know what they did to you. I’ve heard you play. The world cannot afford to lose a talent like yours. You don’t deserve this.”
Adrian took me to the hospital and helped get the cuts on my hands cleaned. The damage was bad, he said, but if I took care of my hands, they would heal. He also arranged for Mom’s burial.
The Graysons had an estate outside the city, with a quiet cemetery on the grounds.
The day we buried her, the rain finally stopped. I knelt at her headstone and stared at the photo. Mom’s smile looked so soft. I couldn’t stop crying.
“Mom, I got a job.”
“I’m going to be okay. I promise.”
Adrian stood a few steps back, giving me space, but staying close.
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He let me stay at his house and hired me as an arranger’s assistant at his studio. My life felt like it was finally stitching itself back together.
It didn’t last.
Julian tracked me down. He came storming through the door, eyes bloodshot and wild, and grabbed my
wrist. “You move fast, don’t you?”
“Already found yourself a new cash machine?”
When he spotted Adrian, his expression hardened. “Adrian. Of course it’s you. Didn’t take you for the type
who’d pick up another man’s scraps.”
Adrian stepped in front of me. His voice stayed even. “That’s enough, Mr. Sterling.”
Julian’s mouth curled, but his eyes stayed on me. He was waiting for me to crack. To stumble through some
excuse, or look at him with those wounded eyes he knew so well.
I didn’t give him anything. I pulled my wrist free like I’d touched something rotten. I turned to Adrian. “Let’s
go.”
I walked past Julian like he was invisible.
Julian just stood there, staring at my back. He’d gotten used to me doing whatever he wanted. Begging when
he shoved me away. Looking at him like he was the only person in the world.
He never imagined I’d stop seeing him. Being invisible to me scared him worse than being hated. He finally
understood I wasn’t coming back.
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Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.
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