Sold to Bastard Alpha after My Divorce! novel Chapter 73

Chapter 73: Chapter 73

Aria’s POV

The community center was a dead end.

I went there, just like the kind stranger suggested. Sat through an hour-long orientation about "job readiness" and "professional development." Filled out forms. Answered questions. Smiled until my face hurt.

They told me to come back in two weeks. Two weeks for the next "workshop session."

So I kept looking. Kept walking. Kept knocking on doors that slammed in my face.

And then, on day twenty-six of my new human life, I found it.

"Quick Stop Mart."

The sign was faded. Half the letters were missing. The building sat at the edge of what could only be described as the worst part of town. Bars on the windows. Graffiti on the walls. The kind of place where people locked their car doors while driving past.

But there was a "Help Wanted" sign in the window.

I pushed through the door.

The smell hit me first. Cheap cleaning products trying to mask something sour underneath. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, flickering every few seconds. The shelves were half-empty, stocked with off-brand everything.

A man stood behind the counter. Forties, maybe. Balding. Gut hanging over his belt. He was watching a small TV mounted in the corner, some sports game I didn’t recognize.

He didn’t look up when I walked in.

"Excuse me?" I approached the counter. "I saw your sign. About the job?"

His eyes finally moved. Traveled over me slowly. Up and down. Lingering in places that made my skin crawl. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

"You got experience?"

"Yes. Five years as a waitress."

"This ain’t waitressing." He snorted. "This is real work. Stocking shelves. Running the register. Cleaning toilets when some junkie pukes all over them."

"I can do all of that."

He leaned back. Crossed his arms. Still staring at me with that look. The one that made me want to take a shower.

"Pay’s minimum wage. Eight hours a day, six days a week. No benefits. No sick days. You miss a shift, you’re fired. Got it?"

Minimum wage. No benefits. In a neighborhood that probably had a shooting every other week.

But it was a job.

"I got it."

He grunted. "When can you start?"

"Today."

Something flickered in his eyes. Interest. Or maybe just surprise that anyone would be this desperate.

"Alright." He grabbed a stained apron from under the counter. Threw it at me. "Put this on. There’s a shipment in the back that needs unloading. Get to it."

No interview. No paperwork. No questions about references or background checks.

In the human world’s dirtiest corner, desperation was qualification enough.

---

The first week was hell.

My body wasn’t built for this anymore. Without Artemis, I was just... human. Weak. Fragile. My muscles screamed after every shift. My back ached from lifting boxes. My feet swelled so badly I could barely fit them into my shoes by the end of the day.

And the exhaustion. God, the exhaustion.

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