Chapter 14 - The Confrontation at the Cafe
A cold autumn drizzle fell over Beacon Hill. Jasmine Cole pulled her designer trench coat tighter around her shoulders as she waited inside a quiet, high-end cafe. Her phone buzzed continuously with notifications from landlords demanding past-due rent and credit card companies threatening legal action.
The cafe door chimed. Jasmine looked up, expecting her new lawyer—who had just demanded a five-thousand-dollar retainer she couldn't afford.
Instead, a woman in an impeccably tailored emerald coat walked in.
Jasmine froze. It was Claire.
Claire didn't carry an umbrella. She walked with effortless poise, stopping right beside Jasmine’s small marble table. She didn't sit down. She looked down at Jasmine with eyes so detached they felt like winter frost.
"C-Claire," Jasmine stuttered, her face draining of all color. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see the woman my husband risked his entire career for," Claire said smoothly, her voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying an undeniable weight.
"Listen to me," Jasmine stammered, panic rising in her throat. "Aaron lied to me! He told me you were getting a divorce anyway, that you were just a decoration—"
"He was right about one thing," Claire interrupted calmly. "I was a decoration. But a decoration belongs in a museum, and you belong wherever discarded things go."
Claire placed a single white envelope on the table next to Jasmine’s empty coffee cup.
May you like
"What is this?" Jasmine whispered, her hands shaking as she touched it.
"A formal notice that the apartment you are currently living in belongs to a subsidiary of Sterling Capital," Claire said without blinking. "You have twenty-four hours to pack your bags. Enjoy the real world, Jasmine. It’s much colder down here."
