Kera and Sam were more than best friends; they were family. They built their careers together, side by side, until a promotion turned everything into a competition. When Kera is accused of theft, she thinks her life is over… until an unexpected secret is exposed. In the end, she learns that betrayal runs deep, but karma cuts deeper.
I always thought betrayal would come with warning signs, like whispers behind my back, a shift in tone, something to tip me off before the knife slid in.
But no.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
Instead, betrayal came with a smile. With a hug. With the promise of friendship.
My name is Kera. I’m twenty-eight years old, and everything I have now, I built from nothing.
I was left at an orphanage as a baby. There was no note, no explanation. Nothing. Just an abandoned girl who grew up bouncing between foster homes, learning that while people wanted to be nice, the only person she could truly rely on was herself.
A little girl playing with toys | Source: Midjourney
That was until Sam.
We met when we were eight, two kids with no families, clinging to each other like lifelines. We learned to cook together, sneaking into the orphanage kitchen at night to steal peanut butter or test recipes that we saw on TV.
We dreamed of becoming chefs, of running our own restaurant someday.
“One day, Kera,” Sam said. “One day, we’ll have big kitchens and lots of money! And we can buy all the food we want.”
“I know,” I said, smiling.
A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
It felt good to dream. It felt good to look forward to something. To see a future that was bigger than we ever thought we could have.
And we worked for it, too.
We got into culinary school on scholarships and hopes. And, surprisingly, we graduated at the top of our class. We thrived on creativity and passion. On the days we felt like giving up, we pushed through. We pushed each other, and if we fell, we fell together.
“I’ll always be here, Sammy,” I told her one day after we ended up in the ER.
A woman standing in an ER | Source: Midjourney
Sam had been too enthusiastic when chopping up herbs and had an incident with a knife.
“I know, K,” she said, smiling through her painkillers. “It’s together or nothing, right, sis?”
Eventually, we landed jobs at one of the best restaurants in the city. We didn’t know how Lady Luck kept shining on us, but we were grateful that she did.
Side by side, Sam and I climbed the ranks, proving ourselves in the brutal, high-pressure world of professional kitchens.
A woman working in a professional kitchen | Source: Midjourney
So when the head chef position opened up, we were both the top candidates.
That day, after the announcement, Sam pulled me aside.
“No matter what happens, let’s not let this ruin our friendship, okay?” she said, squeezing my hand.
I smiled.
A woman working in a professional kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“Of course,” I said. “Nothing changes. But I am starving. Let’s get some food on our break. A greasy cheeseburger from that place down the road sounds like it would hit the spot.”
She smiled back, but there was something… off. A little too much relief in her voice, like she already knew how this would play out.
“Sure,” she said. “Let’s meet there. I have something to do first. A pharmacy run, you know.”
The interior of a pharmacy | Source: Midjourney
I ignored the feeling. Sam was my best friend, after all.
But I shouldn’t have ignored any of my feelings. The first worrying sign was when Sam didn’t meet me for lunch during our break. She just didn’t show up.
That evening, after the dinner service, I was cleaning up my station when our boss, Chef Reynard, stormed into the kitchen. His face was like stone, his sharp blue eyes locking onto mine.
Food on a pass in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“I didn’t expect this from you, Kera!” he thundered. “I thought you were better…”
Silence fell. The entire staff froze, utensils clattering, conversations dying mid-sentence.
“Chef?” I swallowed hard.
He turned to the room.
“Everyone, to the break room. Now!”
An upset chef | Source: Midjourney
The weight of his words sank into my stomach like lead. Something was very, very wrong. What was Chef on about?
We filed in, confused, exchanging nervous glances. Chef Reynard stood at the front, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
“This evening, during an inventory check, something was found,” he said. “Stolen black caviar. In Kera’s bag.”
I stopped breathing. I broke out into a sweat. I felt dizzy.
A woman’s bag | Source: Midjourney
My bag?
My stomach twisted into a hundred knots.
“That’s impossible!” I gasped.
Chef Reynard didn’t react.
“I announced earlier today that I’d be doing an inspection. Someone’s been stealing from my kitchen.”
His eyes were sharp, scanning the room.
A pantry | Source: Midjourney
“And tonight… I found this.”
He held up a small glass jar of caviar, the kind we only used for high-end VIP guests who ordered top-shelf alcohol like it was absolutely nothing.
I stared at Chef’s hand, looking at the glass jar like it was a snake, waiting to strike.
“I didn’t take that,” I said, my voice hoarse. “I swear on my life, Chef. I would never… I would never jeopardize my position here!”
“Then, Kera, how did it end up in your bag?” His voice was calm but firm.
A jar of caviar | Source: Midjourney
I opened my mouth, then shut it. I didn’t have an answer. I felt dizzy.
Sam sat beside me, her hands clasped in her lap. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. She didn’t offer an encouraging smile. Or a hand squeeze.
A sick feeling curdled in my gut.
Chef Reynard exhaled.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t fire you right now.”
An angry chef | Source: Midjourney
I froze.
“Come, Kera. Tell me.”
Tears burned behind my eyes.
I looked around the room, at my coworkers, at the people I had worked beside for years. Some of them looked skeptical. Some looked outright disappointed.
But Sam?
She just sat there. Silent.
A woman sitting | Source: Midjourney
That’s when I knew.
She knew about the inspection. She was the one who did it. Her eyebrows were furrowed like they always were when she was up to something.
Chef Reynard had been on the phone earlier that morning, talking about the missing inventory, saying that he planned to check bags after our shift. But I hadn’t thought anything of it. There was no reason for me to.
But Sam had overheard. When we were changing into our uniform in the locker room she smacked my arm to make me stop talking so that she could hear what Chef was saying.
A woman looking down | Source: Midjourney
But… Sam? Would she really do that to me? Or was my imagination just running wild because the thought of me losing my job was so… close?
I felt the knife twist before I even knew it was there.
I stood up, my throat closing.
“I…” I couldn’t even get the words out.
“I should go…”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
Chef Reynard didn’t say anything. He just looked at me for a moment, his eyes softening.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to curl into a ball and just cry for a few hours. My career, everything that I had worked so hard for, was over.
I turned toward the door, my heart shattering.
“Stop, Kera,” he said.
I turned back, blinking through tears.
A door in a restaurant kitchen | Source: Midjourney
Chef Reynard reached into his pocket and pulled out a small ultraviolet flashlight.
The room went still again.
“There’s a security measure in place,” he said, his voice even. “I have marked all the caviar jars with an invisible, transparent ink, one that leaves residue on anyone who touches it. This is the new batch, and no one has worked with these yet, so only the person who stole the jar would have the stuff on their hands.”
A ripple of murmurs swept through the staff.
A flashlight | Source: Midjourney
He held the jar under the light, and sure enough, a faint, glowing mark was smeared along the lid.
“We started doing this a few years ago when we had another case of sticky fingers. One of our waiters was walking away with our caviar and bottles of champagne, ready to sell on the internet.”
Then he turned the light to his hands. They were clean except for his fingers, where he had held the jar moments before.
His eyes met mine, and he almost smiled.
Bottles of champagne | Source: Midjourney
“Everyone, hands out. Now.”
One by one, we stretched our arms out as he held the light to them.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Dirty nails.
Nothing.
Then…
A faint glow appeared on someone’s fingertips.
Ink on a woman’s hand | Source: Midjourney
That’s when the entire world tilted.
Sam.
The soft blue stain lit up on her skin, it was unmistakable. A choked sound left my throat. My best friend, my sister, sat there, caught red-handed.
Chef Reynard stared at her in disbelief.
“I need you to explain yourself,” Chef said.
“I… Chef…” Sam tried to say, her face drained of color.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
“I never thought someone would do this to their best friend,” he said quietly.
Then, his voice hardened and his face darkened, anger taking over.
“You set her up? You set Kera up? You were willing to destroy her career for a promotion?”
Her mouth opened, desperate.
“Maybe someone else touched it before me… and I touched something they touched.”
An angry chef | Source: Midjourney
Chef Reynard didn’t even blink.
“Just go, Sam.”
I watched her grasp for anything to save herself. But there was nothing.
She knew it.
I knew it.
She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the tiles. Her eyes flicked to me, just for a second.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
And in that second, I saw something that made my blood boil.
Sam didn’t think she’d get caught.
She wasn’t sorry. She was angry.
She stormed out, and just like that, she was gone.
The room was silent.
I was still shaking. I felt betrayed and hurt, heartache worse than I’d ever felt before.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
“Kera,” Chef Reynard said.
“I meant what I said,” he continued. “I don’t tolerate thieves in my kitchen. And I couldn’t believe that it was you. I just… couldn’t. Let’s go to my office.”
We went to his office. I followed him quietly, my hands still shaking.
“Kera,” he said, sitting down. “I didn’t want to believe it because I had just drawn up something for you. But I need you to know that I don’t tolerate people who betray their own.”
An office | Source: Midjourney
He placed a single piece of paper in front of me.
A contract.
“You worked your butt off for this place, my girl,” he said. “I’ve noticed it from the beginning. And you’ve earned your spot as head chef.”
I took a deep breath.
“I had nothing to do with Sam’s actions,” I said. “Absolutely nothing.”
A contract on an office desk | Source: Midjourney
He smiled and held a pen out for me.
And I signed my name.
After my shift, I stopped at a food truck on my way home, trying to wrap my mind around everything. How was I going to go to our apartment and face Sam?
I wanted to slap her for almost costing me my job, but I was also worried about what she was going to do next.
I had been saving over the years. Sam had not, wanting to spend everything on clothing and alcohol. I highly doubted she had any savings, or at least enough to get by until she got a new job.
People outside a food truck | Source: Midjourney
But I shouldn’t have worried.
When I walked into our apartment, Jenna, our roommate, was sitting on the couch playing video games. Sam was nowhere to be seen.
“She’s gone,” Jenna said, pausing the game.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“She’s gone. She packed up, and some guy named Dylan came to help her take her things. She said to tell you that she wanted more for herself and that she needs to find her happiness out of your shadow.”
A woman playing video games | Source: Midjourney
What the actual heck?
“Thanks, Jenna,” I said, flopping down on the couch next to her.
“What happened? She got fired? She quit?”
“How about I tell you tomorrow?” I asked. “I just want to get into bed.”
I was devastated, but I had never felt the way I had before. There was so much anger and hurt. Pain that demanded to be felt.
If this is what Sam was truly capable of, then maybe I was better off without her.
An upset woman lying in her bed | Source: Midjourney
Woman Thought Pretending to Be Someone’s Girlfriend at a Wedding Would Be Fun Until She Wished She Hadn’t — Story of the Day
Stuck in an elevator with a stranger was bad enough. But when Lena found out Dylan—a charming, suit-clad mystery man—needed a fake date for a wedding the next day, things got even weirder. A power outage, a bold proposition, and one tempting question: Would she really say yes to a total stranger?
Lena checked her watch for the third time in a minute. Late. Again.
She exhaled sharply, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she strode down the boutique hotel’s hallway.
The air smelled of fresh lilies, their floral sharpness mixed with the faintest trace of citrus and polished wood.
It was the kind of scent that clung to weddings—the kind that brought memories of champagne toasts, aching feet in high heels, and teary speeches that went on too long.
A fitting reminder, considering her best friend had gotten married last week.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lena reached the elevator and jabbed the button, as if sheer determination could speed up the machinery.
She bounced on her heels, fingers tapping anxiously against the strap of her bag.
The soft chime of the elevator arriving barely registered in her brain before she darted inside.
Just as the doors started closing, a blur of movement caught her eye. A man lunged in after her, his shoulder bumping into hers as her suitcase wobbled dangerously.
“Sorry—” he started, a breathless chuckle in his voice. He straightened, brushing an imaginary wrinkle from his crisp suit.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lena barely spared him a glance. “No worries.”
And then, everything stopped.
The elevator jerked violently. The lights flickered once, twice, then steadied. The hum of movement vanished.
Lena’s stomach clenched. A thick, loaded silence filled the small space.
She pressed the button repeatedly. Nothing.
“Oh, no. No, no, no,” she muttered, pressing her palm against the cool metal doors as if she could will them open.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Beside her, the man let out a deep sigh and leaned against the wall. “Classic. Always when you’re in a rush.”
Lena finally turned to him fully. Sharp blue eyes. Tousled blond hair. A suit that looked like it belonged on a magazine cover.
A Hallmark movie hero, if she’d ever seen one.
“I take it you have somewhere important to be?” he asked, his lips quirking in amusement.
“A dinner with a friend,” she muttered. “She got married last week. We planned this before I leave town.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Ah,” he nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Funny coincidence. The wedding I’m going to is tomorrow.”
Lena blinked. “Wait. You’re—”
“Dylan.” He extended a hand, palm up, as if this was the most normal introduction in the world. “Groom’s best friend. And emergency wedding date seeker.”
Before she could even process that, the intercom crackled overhead.
“Uh, folks? Seems like we’ve got a small power outage affecting the elevators. We’re working on it. Might take a bit.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lena closed her eyes briefly. “Perfect.”
Dylan chuckled. “Look on the bright side. At least we’re not alone in here.”
She shot him a look. “Right. Because being stuck with a stranger is somehow better than being stuck alone.”
He shrugged, flashing a lazy grin. “Depends on the stranger, doesn’t it?”
They stood in awkward silence for a moment. The hum of hotel activity beyond the metal doors felt distant, as if they were suspended in time.
Then, out of nowhere, Dylan asked, “So, any chance you’re up for a second wedding in a week?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lena turned to him slowly, brow raised. “Excuse me?”
“I need a date for the wedding.” He smirked, leaning against the wall like this was just another casual conversation.
“My ex is going to be there, and I’d rather not be the guy sitting alone at the singles table. Think of it as a fake date for a noble cause.”
Lena let out a short laugh. Was this guy serious?
“You’re really asking a total stranger to be your plus-one while we’re trapped in an elevator?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Dylan shrugged, completely unbothered. “So, is it a yes or a no?”
Lena never thought she’d actually go through with it.
The whole thing had sounded ridiculous—a fake date with a man she barely knew, just to help him save face at a wedding. And yet, here she was.
She smoothed her hands down the fabric of her red dress, the one she had almost left hanging in the back of her suitcase.
It wasn’t her usual style—too bold, too eye-catching, too much.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
But something about tonight made her want to be someone else, even if just for a few hours.
Dylan stood beside her, a glass of champagne in one hand, his other resting lightly on the small of her back. Steady, effortless, completely at ease. Unlike her.
She forced a polite smile as yet another guest approached, throwing curious glances her way.
Weddings were strange like that—everyone wanted to know who you were, why you were there, if your presence meant something.
Dylan, on the other hand, played the part perfectly.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He leaned down, murmuring in her ear, “That woman in the blue dress has been trying to figure out if we’re engaged for the past ten minutes.”
Lena barely stopped herself from laughing. “Should I flash a fake ring just to mess with her?”
His eyes twinkled. “Tempting. But then I’d have to plan an even faker proposal.”
They moved through the ballroom like they had done this a hundred times before—his touch easy, his words charming, his smile like a safety net.
And then there was the dance.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The moment his fingers laced with hers, the moment he guided her into a slow, fluid rhythm, Lena forgot for a second that this wasn’t real.
His grip was firm but gentle, the kind that told her to trust him. The warmth of his palm against her waist sent an unfamiliar shiver down her spine.
This was pretend. She knew that. But something about the way he looked at her—like she was the only person in the room—made it too easy to forget.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
As the bride and groom swayed in the center of the dance floor, Lena tilted her head up. “So, tell me,” she murmured, “what’s the deal with this ex of yours?”
Dylan took a sip of champagne, and for the first time all night, his smile flickered. Just for a second.
“Maya,” he said, rolling the name on his tongue like it was still a part of him. “We dated for a while. Things got… complicated.”
Lena raised a brow. “Complicated how?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He exhaled slowly, eyes flicking down to the golden liquid swirling in his glass. “She thought I wasn’t serious enough. That I didn’t have time for her.”
“And did you?”
Dylan paused, then let out a dry chuckle. “Maybe not. But I was trying.”
Before Lena could respond, someone called Dylan’s name.
She turned just in time to see her.
Maya.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lena didn’t need an introduction to know exactly who she was.
Tall. Poised. Beautiful in that effortless way that made other women feel like they were trying too hard.
Her presence filled the room with a quiet kind of power—like she knew she belonged anywhere she went.
And when she reached Dylan, she hugged him.
Not a casual, polite hug. Not an awkward, we-used-to-date hug.
Something in between. Something that made Lena’s chest tighten in a way it shouldn’t have.
She wasn’t supposed to care. This wasn’t real.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
And yet, it sure as hell felt like it was.
The reception was in full swing—laughter, clinking glasses, music that vibrated through the floor—but Lena barely heard any of it.
Her fingers gripped the stem of her champagne glass a little too tightly as she watched Dylan and Maya across the room.
Too close. Too familiar. Too much. Their voices were low, their expressions unreadable. Whatever they were saying, it wasn’t for her to hear.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
And yet, she couldn’t look away.
This was supposed to be a game. A favor. A night of harmless pretending. But now, her stomach twisted, and she hated the feeling.
A shadow moved beside her. “Everything okay?”
Dylan.
Lena blinked, dragging her gaze from Maya. She forced a smile, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes. “Great. You and Maya catching up?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Dylan’s frown was subtle but there. “Not really. She just wanted to check in.”
Check in. Right.
“Lena,” he started, voice softer now, careful. “You know this isn’t—”
“Not real?” she cut in, her heart hammering. “Yeah. I know.”
The words felt wrong.
She swallowed hard. She needed to leave before she made a fool of herself.
“Thanks for the night, Dylan,” she said, turning on her heel. “But I think I’m done playing pretend.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
And then, she walked away.
Lena had her bag packed before the sun had fully risen. She had spent the night convincing herself that walking away was the right choice. No messy feelings. No unnecessary complications. Just a clean break.
But as she slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped into the hotel lobby, her chest felt heavier than it should. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep. Maybe it was something else.
She headed toward the café, craving caffeine and distraction, but fate had other plans.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She turned the corner too fast, and suddenly—collision.
Hot coffee sloshed dangerously close to her dress as Dylan stumbled back, gripping his cup to stop the spill.
“Lena?” His voice was a mix of surprise and something else—something unreadable.
She cursed under her breath. Of course. Of course, she had to run into him now.
“I was just—” she started, but Dylan wasn’t buying it.
“Leaving?” His eyes locked onto hers, sharp, searching. “Without saying anything?”
Lena exhaled, torn between pride and something that felt a lot like longing. “It was just supposed to be a one-time thing, right?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Dylan was silent for a beat, then let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair.
“Yeah,” he admitted, voice rough. “That’s what I thought, too.” He hesitated, then took a step closer. “Until I realized I didn’t want it to end.”
Lena’s pulse stumbled. “What?”
“Last night,” he said, his voice softer now, steady, “I watched you walk away, and all I could think about was how much I didn’t want you to go.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her heart thudded against her ribs. “Dylan—”
“I don’t care about Maya,” he cut in, his tone firm, certain. “I don’t care about anyone else. I care about you.”
Lena wanted to believe him. But doubt—fear—clawed at her. “What if this is just—”
“It’s not,” Dylan interrupted, seeing right through her hesitation. “You feel it, too. Don’t you?”
She swallowed hard.
Yes.
Yes, she did.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
So, for once, she stopped overthinking.
She stepped forward, reached up, and kissed him.
A kiss that was warm. Real. Nothing like pretending.
Dylan smiled against her lips. “Does this mean you’ll stay?”
Lena laughed softly. “Maybe. But only if you promise to stop getting us stuck in elevators.”
Dylan chuckled, his hand slipping easily around her waist. “No guarantees.”
And with that, Lena finally let herself fall.
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