Chapter 3 Application

Two hours later, she sat cross-legged on her couch, staring at the job application page on her laptop.

Virelli Dynamics.

Submit Resume.

Her reflection stared back at her in the dark screen border — tired eyes, tense jaw.

Her phone buzzed.

Cathy.

Lorna exhaled in relief before answering.

“Tell me you’re free,” Cathy said immediately. “I need wine and validation.”

Lorna huffed a weak laugh. “Funny. I need the same.”

Twenty minutes later, Cathy was sprawled on Lorna’s living room floor, shoes kicked off, hair falling out of its messy bun.

They’d been friends since primary school.

Cathy had been there through braces, bad haircuts, first heartbreaks, and the slow realization that being a Calloway meant living inside a measuring scale.

Cathy had never measured her.

“So,” Cathy said, accepting the glass of wine Lorna handed her. “Why do you look like you’ve just been cast as the villain in your own life?”

Lorna sank onto the couch.

“My dad wants me to spy on Virelli Dynamics.”

Cathy blinked.

“I’m sorry. I must have misheard. Did you say spy?”

“Yes.”

“Like corporate espionage spy?”

“Yes.”

Cathy stared at her for a long moment.

“That’s… illegal-adjacent.”

“He says it’s observation.”

“And dictators say elections are suggestions.”

Despite herself, Lorna smiled faintly.

“He’s cutting me off if I don’t do it.”

The humor drained from Cathy’s face.

“Oh.”

“Apparently, this is my chance to ‘earn’ respect.”

Cathy rolled her eyes. “You don’t earn respect from men like that. They ration it.”

Lorna looked down at her hands.

“I feel like a pawn,” she admitted. “Like he looked at all his children and decided I was the most disposable.”

Cathy sat up.

“Hey. No.”

“It makes sense,” Lorna continued, words tumbling out now. “Andrew is too visible. Elise is too valuable. I’m… flexible.”

“You’re not flexible,” Cathy said fiercely. “You’re creative. You’re empathetic. You see things other people miss.”

“Which makes me useful,” Lorna whispered.

Cathy’s jaw tightened.

“Then use it for yourself,” she said. “Take the job. Learn everything. But don’t let him decide who you are in the process.”

Lorna swallowed.

“I don’t even know who I am without trying to prove something.”

Cathy softened.

“You’re the girl who once stood up to a teacher for humiliating a kid who couldn’t read out loud. You’re the girl who designs logos for small businesses because you like watching them grow. You’re not weak, Lorna. You’re just not loud.”

The words settled somewhere deep.

They sat in silence for a while.

"You know you have options here?" Cathy said

" Like what, because all i see is control and I feel trapped and used"

" You can go there, work for them for a while then tell your father you couldnt get access to anything useful and leave. Or you work for them and actually like it and ask to be posted somewhere overseas away from your family and the control and live your own life."

Lorna let those options sink in, maybe this could work to her advantage, an out, an option and freedom something she has always wanted.

But her father would find her or disgrace her, whatever her options he always won and always had the control.

Never in her life had she felt so trapped into doing what he wanted her to do.

Finally, Cathy glanced at the laptop screen.

“Have you submitted it?”

Lorna shook her head.

“Do it,” Cathy said gently. “But not for him.”

Lorna turned toward the computer.

Her finger hovered over the trackpad.

This was it.

The moment she stepped into her father’s game and her life might change forever in either direction, in a good way or a bad way, only time would tell.

Her chest tightened.

She clicked.

Application Submitted.

She had done and if they didnt accept her then there was no choice to make, easy she told herself.

A confirmation email arrived almost instantly.

Interview scheduled. Monday. 9:00 AM.

“That was fast,” Cathy murmured.

Too fast.

Lorna’s stomach dropped.

“They were expecting me,” she said quietly.

Cathy frowned. “What do you mean?”

Lorna stared at the screen.

Because companies like Virelli didn’t respond within seconds.

Not unless—

Not unless someone had tipped them off.

Her phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number.

A single message.

We look forward to meeting you, Ms. Calloway.

No signature.

No company header.

Just that.

Cathy looked over her shoulder.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “That’s creepy.”

Lorna’s pulse thundered in her ears.

Had her father already contacted them?

Was this part of the plan?

Or—

Were they aware of her before she ever applied?

Tomorrow, she would walk into Virelli Dynamics.

She thought she knew who was pulling the strings.

But as she stared at the glowing message on her phone, a cold realization crept over her—

What if she wasn’t being sent in?

What if she was being invited?

And what if she had no idea which side she was really stepping onto?