The Downfall Of The Darling

Chapter 4: A Financial Genius

Blair walked through the dim aisles of the grocery store, scrutinizing the shelves like someone accustomed to living on a tight budget.

She picked up a generic sunscreen brand, studying the price tag with a furrowed brow. The cost of everything seemed to stretch her meager budget. Her fingers drifted over the shelves, seeking the best deals on moisturizer and facial wash.

As Blair walked towards the toiletries section, she noticed a new magazine rack near the checkout that caught her attention. The glossy covers of several business magazines gleamed under the store's harsh lights.

Blair felt her heart race. The magazine cover featured her grandfather and father for their successful release of an innovative product that attracted a lot of attention. The bold headlines and bright images of their smiling faces mocked her current situation. Standing in a store where every penny mattered.

Her lips twitched in amusement as she glanced down at the sunscreen and moisturizer in her basket. Well, Grandpa, guess who's the real financial genius now?

They can talk about revolutionary products all they want, Blair thought, a smirk creeping across her face. But have they ever hunted for half-off toothpaste while mastering the art of coupon stacking? Didn't think so.'

She picked up a bottle of shampoo, turning it over with a critical eye. 'Prioritizing needs over wants? Check. Resourceful? Absolutely. And who needs overpriced skincare when you've got store-brand treasures like this?' She dropped the skin lotion into her cart with a flourish, feeling like a budget-savvy superhero.

'Honestly, if anything, I should be on the cover of that magazine,' she mused, glancing back at her grandfather's smug expression. "Blair Wilson: Budgeting Queen—Making Every Penny Count!"

With a small, triumphant grin, Blair tossed a pack of kitten food in her basket and removed the moisturizer, sunscreen, and facial wash. 'Take that, Grandpa. Turns out, I am a financial genius. Just... on a slightly different scale.'

Blair stared at the kitten food in her basket, its premium packaging practically shining. "This is just... a treat," she mumbled under her breath. "Yeah, a treat. I'm simply paying it in food for being a good therapist."

She smiled, convincing herself she was in total control. "I'm not getting attached. This is strictly professional."

Blair stood at the checkout counter, meticulously counting the change she'd received from the cashier. Every penny counts these days, and she wasn't about to let a single coin slip through the cracks. Her fingers moved swiftly over the crumpled bills, but something made her pause.

A familiar figure caught her eyes.

Her heart stuttered in her chest as she spotted a tall man standing three people behind her in the queue. Dark hair, sharp features—he looked just like him.

Ezra Taylor.

Blair's pulse quickened, and she immediately averted her gaze, stuffing the change into her pocket haphazardly. She felt too afraid to glance back. Without a second thought, she grabbed her grocery bags, her arms straining under their weight, and bolted for the exit.

Her breath came in short bursts as she darted through the automatic doors, heart pounding in her ears. The bag felt heavier with every step, but she didn't slow down.

"Of course, it wasn't him," Blair muttered under her breath as she sank into the backseat of the taxi. "I'm lost in my own fantasies once more."

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