Brooke woke up slowly, like a butterfly stretching from its cocoon, blinking against the soft golden light spilling through her bedroom windows. The silk sheets around her still held the scent of lavender and new beginnings. She yawned softly, then sat up, clutching the blanket around her.
She reached over to the nightstand for her phone, and honey… that thing was buzzing like a beehive in July.
42 new messages.
The screen lit up with a flurry of notifications—mostly from Shelly and Carolyn. And one… from Cameroon.
"Wow," she whispered to herself, swiping up.
Shelly had texted:
> "Babe!!! DID U FLY OR FLOAT?? Cause ur ass is glowing in the air I can feel it 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭"
Carolyn sent:
> "Pls explain from A to Z. What u wore, what u saw, what u smelled. Did they serve u real champagne or cheap juice? I wanna know it all."
And Cameroon, in the middle of all that glitter, had simply written:
"Hey… You good? I didn't think you'd reply but… I just wanted to say I'm proud of you. Really. Proud."
Something about his message hit different. Brooke stared at it for a second, lips twitching into a soft, unreadable smile. Then she typed:
"Hey. Thanks. I'm good. Just settling in."
Delivered. Read.
And boom—he replied in a heartbeat.
> "Wow. You really replied. This feels like a dream."
"Boy, this is a dream," Brooke muttered to herself, chuckling.
Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she updated Shelly and Carolyn.
> "Okayyyy so: the flight? Immaculate. Business class feels like heaven. They gave me food every five minutes like I was royalty or pregnant 😭. Then we touched down and the cars? Babes. Convoy. A whole fleet. Drivers in gloves. Mansion like something out of a K-drama. Twenty people just waiting to carry my bags and bring me juice."
They screamed in the group chat.
Carolyn: "IM DEAD. IS LESLIE REAL?? IS HE HOT?? DID HE LOOK AT YOU?? DID YALL MAKE EYE CONTACT??? 👀"
Shelly: "I TOLD YOU YOU WERE A STAR. Now sprinkle us with details, pls. Is the bed memory foam or money foam???"
She giggled and typed out everything: how she walked through that grand entrance like a scene from Crazy Rich Asians, how Leslie had given her that boy-next-door-but-with-money smile, and how Corelle was basically her new PA. They weren't in the Philippines, but darling—they knew everything, down to the shade of the rug and the flavor of the welcome cocktail.
Then came a message from her mother:
"My beautiful daughter. I just spoke to Shelly. I am proud of you. So proud. You go and shine. Your father is smiling today."
Brooke clutched her chest. "Mum…" she whispered. Her fingers trembled slightly as she replied:
"I love you, Mum. I'll make you proud. I promise."
Just then, a gentle knock tapped at her door.
Corelle stepped in with her usual perfect poise. "Good evening, Miss Brooke. Dinner will be served shortly. Please shower and meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes."
Brooke nodded. "Got it. Let me glam up a little."
She rushed into the bathroom, and baby, it was like stepping into a spa. Steam curled in the air, soft music played from hidden speakers, and she used products she couldn't even pronounce but knew were expensive. After her shower, she slipped into a rich emerald green evening dress Mr. Dominic's stylist had picked out earlier that day. The silk clung to her just right, making her look like money dipped in grace.
By the time she emerged, Corelle nodded approvingly. "Stunning."
The two descended the grand staircase, and as they walked, the chandelier overhead sparkled like a thousand cameras flashing. Everyone—staff, the family, even Leslie—paused their chatter and turned toward her.
"Welcome," Magaret Precious Krapper said with a warm smile. "Shall we dine?"
The table was decked out with gold-rimmed plates, roasted meats, exotic seafood, perfectly sliced fruits, and wine that tasted like time. Laughter echoed, toasts were made, and Brooke felt like she'd slipped into someone else's life… but deep down, she knew this was her life now.
After dessert, Mr. Dominic stood up and gently tapped his glass with a spoon.
"Brooke," he said, "Tonight marks a beginning. You are no longer just a guest here. You're a part of this operation. This vision."
He handed her a sleek black envelope, trimmed with gold.
"This… is your new information. Inside, you'll find everything you need: your staff credentials, access badges, your travel schedule, communication cards, and more."
Brooke opened the envelope slowly, her heart pounding like a drumline.
"But more importantly," Mr. Dominic continued, "from today onwards… your name in the McKrapper network will not be Brooke."
The room fell silent.
He smiled. "From today, you will be known as… .....
."
Gasps.
Even Leslie looked up, intrigued.
"It's a name that will be printed on every portfolio, every presentation, every document. It represents elegance, strength, and rebirth. Do you accept it?"
Brooke—stood up slowly, her emerald dress glistening under the chandelier's glow.
"Yes," she said, voice firm. "I accept."
And just like that, a new era began.
Not as the girl from the diner.
The face of the McKrapper future.