Ashley's POV

Tristan stared at me angrily, putting the bucket on the floor beside him.

He was now dressed in sweatpants, with his chest still bare.

I was first hit with the realization that he was still alive, that was good news. I wasn't going to prison for aiding in a murder, then the realization that I was half naked in his bed finally hit.

I could imagine all the different thoughts racing through his mind. I was surely screwed this time, there was no way back for me. I'm pretty sure this would be the moment my life ends. After everything Waylen did to prevent 'us' from going to prison, I'm pretty sure we were going to end up there. Everything was about to be exposed.

His mood quickly changed, he stepped closer and sat on the side of the bed looking a little calmer.

"Are you going to explain everything that happened last night?" he asked.

He fixed his eyes on me, searching for a reaction.

My brain froze, my heart threatening to leap out of my chest.

How was I going to explain everything that had happened? Of how my ex-boyfriend came here and assaulted him all because he was jealous. Either way, this wasn't going to end well.

"I..." I started.

Tristan wailed. "My head hurts," he interjected, holding his hand at his temple. He kept his head down as he tried to contain the pain. This must be the aftereffects of the alcohol, if not the blow.

"Why don't I remember anything from last night?" He spoke in frustration.

I looked at him confused.

Wait, he didn't remember anything about last night? This had to be good news, right? Did he really not remember or was he just testing me?

Seconds later, he seemed to have recovered from the pain.

"What happened to my face?" He demanded, pointing at the mark from Waylen's punch.

I had not even noticed; I was so focused on getting out of this situation alive that I hadn't noticed the red mark around his eye.

"Are you going to say anything?" He demanded.

"You fell and hit your head on the table sir," I answered in a panic.

I was shocked by my lie. Was I really going to lie my way out of this situation?

He stood up from the bed, he looked a little bit dizzy. I wanted to help him.

He quickly gathered himself, pressing his hand against the wall for balance.

"I'm sure that we have both had enough of each other. I need you to get out of my bed." He spoke. He turned, heading towards the bathroom. "One last thing, you are fired." He spoke.

"What?" I managed to whisper.

Why was he firing me? If not for what happened last night, then why? Maybe it was because I was half-naked in his bed.

"What did you think would happen, that you could seduce me and get a promotion?" He spoke.

He stared at me coldly, his eyes filled with anger.

I looked at him confused. What did he really think happened?

'Wait, did he think that we slept together?' My slow brain registered.

I looked down examining myself, the towel I had wrapped myself in was now laying on the side of the bed. I was completely exposed, in nothing but my bra and underwear.

I quickly pulled the bed sheet, hugging it closely.

I could understand why he felt that way; him waking up in nothing but a towel and me in my state, I would also believe it. Either way, I needed to set things straight.

"Tell me, how many of the other guests do you offer your extra services?" He asked.

"I can assure you that...."

"That this will never happen again?" He cut me off. "I'll make sure of that. You took advantage of the fact that I was drunk so you could whore your way into my bed." He spoke.

I shook my head vigorously.

His words felt colder than the shower or the bucket of water he had thrown over my head.

"I need you to get out of my hotel. Women like you make other women look bad." He continued.

"Please sir, you can't fire me?" I begged.

"No, sweetheart I'm not firing you." He spoke. "I just want you to take some time off and never return." He spoke sarcastically.

This couldn't be happening, just minutes ago I thought I was off the hook. Now I find out that I was losing my job in the worst way possible.

I looked at him with pleading eyes, this only made him angrier.

"I'm not running a brothel. I need you to get your things and get out of here." He continued.

"Please," I managed to whisper.

"Would you like for me to have the security drag you out of here? Maybe that way the rest of your colleges will see what a whore you are." He spoke coldly.

I hadn't noticed but I had tears streaming down my cheeks, I don't know what hurt more, that I had lost my job or that this was what he thought of me.

Maybe it was time for me to realize there was nothing for me here anymore, I had lost. No matter how hard I tried to convince him he would never listen.

I looked down at myself to examine the situation. How was I supposed to leave without any clothes?

Tristin stared at me with his hands folded. He must have noticed how uncomfortable I was at that moment.

"What, you weren't shy last night now were you?" He mocked.

Just then, his phone rang, vibrating on the counter.

He picked his phone up.

"Maybe if you were any good, I'd actually remember." He mocked.

Another slap in the face.

"I want you out of here before I come back, or else I will have the security drag you out of here." He spoke.

He gave me a final look before stepping out of the room to answer his call.

My tears continued pouring down my tears. I've never been more belittled.

I used up all the strength I had left and gathered myself. I wrapped myself with the bed sheet and left the room for the laundry room. I took my uniform which was now dry.

I walked out of the laundry room in my uniform, I left with nothing but the little dignity I had left and my broken phone.

Tristan was now finished with his call.

I couldn't help but look at him for the final time, unfortunately, he noticed.

"Are you going to continue begging for your job?" He asked.

I wiped the tears on my cheek.

"There are painkillers in the top drawer in the kitchen," I answered.

I turned around and walked out of his penthouse.

I walked out of the building as fast as I could, not wanting to face any of the other employees or let anyone see me crying.

I just walked until I couldn't anymore. I ended up in a park where a few kids were playing.

I sat on the swing, finally letting out all the tears I had been holding back.

Maybe by now, Tristan had decided to 'expose' me and tell everyone what had happened. I'm sure the news of how I was disgracefully fired would spread like wildfire. Marcus would probably use the story to serve as a lesson.

How was I going to tell mom I got fired, let alone how and why I got fired?

A little girl ran towards me, she stared at me as I attempted to wipe my tears.

"Would you like my ice cream?" She offered, holding out a chocolate ice cream cone.

"Ellie!" A woman yelled in the background.

"I'm okay, thank you," I answered the little girl. I tried my best to fake a smile.

"Coming mom!" The girl yelled back.

She gave me a small smile before running back to her mother.

I pushed myself further in my swing, staring at the children playing in the sand pit.

***

I wasn't keeping track of time, but I must have stayed at the park for hours, most of the kids had already cleared out. Even with all the hours I had spent, I still wasn't ready to face my problems.

I walked to the nearest bus stop looking like a dead corp. I managed to get a bus within minutes.

By the time I arrived home, all my tears had dried out.

Our small gate was opened and so was our front door.

I stepped into the house, it was a complete mess, papers laying on the floor, the table was upside down with the couch moved out of its place and to the side.

"Mom," I called out.

I followed the sounds in the kitchen.

"Ashley, stand back," Mom spoke in a panic.

Her eyes were whelmed up in tears, Katy standing behind her.

That's when I saw dad as he frantically searched through the kitchen. He was shaking out of his core, he seemed restless and agitated. I noticed the sweat covering his brow.

This was bad, he was experiencing withdrawal symptoms again. Which meant he was desperate and willing to do anything to get his hands on some money so he can get alcohol.

All the cupboard drawers were left wide open.

"Dad, what is going on here?" I spoke.

He stopped in his tracks to face me.

"Don't you dad me, I'm not your father. Your mother was nothing but a whore who doesn't even know who your real father is!" He shouted.

His words hit me by surprise, there it was, the truth.

My mom met him when she was pregnant with me, she never told me who my real father is, only that she keeps avoiding it whenever I try to confront her.

I got used to not knowing who he is, but it still hurts.

"Katherine, you should come and live with me. That way you don't end up a whore like your mother and your sister." He screamed.

Katy stepped closer to mom, hugging her tightly.

"Kevin, I'm warning you to stay away from my children," Mom spoke.

"What are you going to do? Get me arrested like you did the last time?" He spoke.

Katy was now in complete tears, holding onto mom. Throughout the last fifteen years that she has been born, she has never once seen him sober.

What hurts is that he isn't always this bad, he was some good moments too which is why mom stayed with him for so long before deciding to leave him.

He hit the small treasure box on the counter with the back of his hand, the few dollars that were in there fell out. Mom kept some money in there in case the bread or anything in the house ran out.

A smile grew on his face as he noticed the money, he quickly folded it into his pocket.

"You are useless, you better have more money when I come back." He spoke.

He pulled the coffee table, throwing it to the floor and breaking the vase on top of it.

He stormed out of the house, his body still shaking.

I let go of all the tears that I had been holding back. I couldn't take it; my life was nothing but a nightmare.

Mom hugged me tightly, stroking my hair.

"Why won't you tell me who my father is," I sobbed pulling away from her.

Why couldn't she just tell me the truth, maybe that way I wouldn't keep feeling this giant hole inside of me whenever someone throw it in my face that I don't know my father. This was her fault.

Mom looked at me downhearted, it's the same look she has given me in the last twenty-six years whenever I have tried to ask her about my dad.

I already knew she wasn't going to tell me anything.

I ran upstairs to my room, I pressed my back against the door, trying to process everything that had just happened. The universe had to have some kind of law of the amount of bad news a person can get in one day. This was too much for me to take.

I sat on my bed crying.

Minutes later, I heard a soft knock on the door. My sister walked in.

"I don't want to talk to anyone right now," I spoke.

"Someone is on the phone for you," She answered.

She extended her hand, handing me the phone.

"Hello," I answered the call choking back my tears.

"Where the heck were you the whole day, why didn't you show up for work!" Marcus yelled.

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A/N: Please comment down your thoughts on the story.

Please remember to vote and comment, I have a few surprises coming up in the next chapters.