The moment she entered the waiting room, Emma swallowed hard. There were 15 other young women applying for the same job. "This is a waste of time." She muttered to herself. There was no way she could compete with all those college girls.

Why had she even applied for an office job? She could never make it. Even Nancy said it: as long as she didn't have an education to compensate her lack of experience, she could only aspire to wait at tables or sell clothes. Nowadays, even a nanny was requested some sort of diploma.

Emma glanced around the room. Her rivals couldn't be more than 25 years old, probably fresh out of college, ready to take on life with its exciting adventures. She sighed, sagging her shoulders. "I might as well leave," she told herself.

However, before she could, a woman in her late 40s came out of the office, holding a clipboard, and called: "Hudson? Emma Hudson?"

"Damnit." She muttered to herself. "I'm here," she told the woman, raising her hand.

The lady nodded, crossing the name off her list. "Come with me, please." She gestured for the young woman to follow her inside the office.

Emma obeyed, albeit feeling defeated already. She could also feel the gazes of the other candidates, and she was certain they were judging her, both for her not very professional choice of attire – white shirt, light blue jeans, bright red lipstick – and for the lack of qualifications she thought they could read on her face. She didn't understand why had she even been selected for the interview, she was obviously not suited, they could have avoided wasting their time and hers.

Then again, Emma thought, the job offer talked about a position as personal assistant for the chief editor of a prominent magazine. The requirements, other than high school diploma, were "good-looking" and "aged 20-29". Had she not been desperate, she would have definitely skipped such an offer. But, once again, beggars cannot be choosers, she reminded herself.

Emma took a deep breath, and entered the office with the fortyish woman. "Emma Hudson." The lady introduced, then left. Swallowing her saliva, the young woman took a couple of steps closer to the large oak desk that was at the back of the room. The fancy leather swivel chair faced the windows, which gave an incredible view of New York's skyline. Emma would have remained staring in awe at the incredible panorama, had she not been too nervous to even make her presence known.

"Emma." A male voice called from behind the desk. "Nice name." He said, swiveling the chair to look at her. When he saw her, his eyes widened just as much as hers, but their reactions were entirely different. He looked bewildered yet glad, she was disgusted.

The world could be cruelly small, Emma thought, lowly sighing. "Daniel." She rolled her eyes. "The name of the magazine did sound familiar."

A smile slowly crept up on the dark-haired guy's lips. "I can't believe this." He stood, bypassing the desk to go greet her. "It's you!"

Instinctively, Emma pulled back from his attempt at hugging her. "Keep your hands to yourself, Daniel." She growled, ready to use force if needed to keep him away. He hadn't changed a bit: same dark hair, same mischievous brown gaze, same arrogant smirk of a posh kid born in wealth and used to having daddy come to the rescue.

Daniel chuckled, yet keeping a short distance from her. "Come on, baby girl, you're still mad at me? I told you it wasn't my fault."

She glared at him. "I'll hate you till your dumb ass turns into ashes, Daniel." She gritted her teeth.

Unfazed, he took a few steps closer – enough to invade her personal space, yet not enough to touch her. "I've always loved that mouth of yours ..." He reminisced, licking his lips. "I guess I can send the others home," he grinned, "I've found my new assistant." His gaze moved up and down her frame, both reminiscing the good old days and prefiguring the ones to come.

"As if." She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You applied, you won. Shouldn't you be happy?" He took another step closer, enough to brush her arm.

Emma felt shivers down her spine, same as she did when Alexander touched her. Except in this case, it was out of disgust. "I would rather starve than work for you, Daniel." She spat, slipping her arm away from his reach.

He laughed, amused. "Oh, come on, now, baby girl ... you can't let our old grudges spoil such an opportunity for you."

"I didn't know your father moved his company to New York."

"It's my company now, actually." Daniel corrected. "The old man kicked the bucket last year, so ... everything's mine now." He licked his lips, eyes on her. "You're still in time to reconsider that little offer I made last time ..."

"I'd rather marry a goat than you." She hissed, taking a couple of steps back, before he dared even think of touching her again. There weren't many people Emma Hudson loathed, but if she made a list, Daniel Larkin would be right on top, followed by her stepfather and her mother.

To think she'd once loved those brown eyes, to think she'd once desired nothing more than to remain in those arms forever. But maybe it'd just been the thrill of a forbidden relationship, the hype of the unknown, and the sense of freedom Daniel gave her. Stuck in a life of sufferance, her teen self naturally saw that rich college boy as the best chance to escape. However, following him had been the worst mistake of her life.

He laughed. "I love you, too, baby girl." He pinched her cheek, only to then laugh more when Emma slapped his hand away.

He was always like that, she reminisced, Daniel believed his money made him king of the world, entitled to everything and everyone. There had been a time when his cockiness had enthralled a younger Emma, but now she saw him for what he was: a spoiled rich brat that'd never learnt to care for anyone but himself. Every time he'd claimed to love her, she'd believed him, unaware of just how wrong she was. Daniel Larkin was in love with himself, there was no room for anybody else.

"I'm leaving." She spat, walking backwards a couple of steps. "And I sincerely hope you won't be stupid enough to start stalking me, Daniel."

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, scoffing. "You think a different name is enough to run away from your past? You're not gonna find another opportunity like this, why not take it?"

"Like I said, I'd rather starve than work for you." She spat.

He walked closer to her once again. "I keep offering you chances to live the great life you deserve, yet you keep on refusing." He shook his head in mock disappointment. "You should have married me years ago, baby girl, by now you'd be living in a mansion in Beverly Hills or wherever else you desired, able to afford each and every single whim without working a day in your life."

"Oh, I'm sure your dad would have so loved that." Emma scoffed.

"I told you his heart would give up eventually, you should have just resisted a little longer." Daniel shrugged.

She glared at him, gritting her teeth. "Your father sent me to prison for something you did, Daniel." She barked. "I paid the price on your behalf. You ruined my life."

"I ruined your life?" He laughed loudly. "I recall a girl clinging onto me for dear life and repeating over and over again how she would do anything for me, how she could not live without me." He mocked. "That night you chose to get drunk with me, Emma – nice choice for a name, by the way –, you chose to steal that car with me. I didn't force you."

"But you didn't even try to defend me when your father accused me!" She yelled, getting in his face now, her anger seeping through after years of repressing it. "You let him manipulate the odds against me." Emma's jaw clenched as she stood one mere inch away from him. "Where was the guy that claimed to love me to the moon and back? Where was he when I needed him the most?"

"I tried." Daniel muttered, humor leaving its place for the slightest hint of regret. "He didn't listen."

"Guess you didn't try hard enough." She scoffed, taking a step back. "Forget you saw me," she walked to the door again, "money might make you powerful, but you know better than to cross me."

A faint smile crept up on his lips. "There she is, the Allison I know. Fierce and proud, badass and unapologetic."

"It's Emma." She corrected, glaring. "Emma Hudson."

"Emma, Allison ... still sounds nice paired with Larkin." Daniel winked. "Think about it, baby girl, my door's always open for you."

"Fuck off, Daniel." She growled, slamming the door on the way out. As she stormed out of the waiting room, uncaring of the puzzled looks from the other candidates, Emma muttered curses under her breath.

Every time, she told herself, every single time she tried to make something of the cards an unforgiving fate had dealt her, she was pushed back. Why did she bother trying to give her life a direction when it was so clear that there was no way out of her misery? Why did she even bother fighting?