In the upscale rooftop restaurant, the city skyline sparkled like diamonds spilled across black velvet. Soft jazz wafted on the air as heavy silverware met delicate china. Waiters glided in choreographed movements as conversations buzzed softly.But in one corner table, tension was anything but subdued.Nolan Cruz watched Saben Thompson with an knowing smirk, spinning the brandy glass around his fingers. His eyes followed the intensity emanating from the man next to him—the way Saben's eyes hadn't wavered from the couple in the other room.JM Reese and Eva Ross.They sat by the balcony, laughing as if the world had given them everything they desired and more. Eva's laughter was like champagne bubbles, her fingers following the rim of her wineglass. JM leaned back in that smug, untroubled posture untouchable and satisfied.But Saben's jaw had tightened.Hard.Nolan ended the silence. "You sure you want to dig that deep? Looks like a war waiting to erupt.Saben didn't respond immediatel
Saben Thompson of BMX Estate did not know who JM Reese was.Not that evening. Not in that particular, isolated restaurant where money whispered among the clinking wine glasses and smooth jazz curled through the air like smoke.He had just returned from a quick phone call with one of his logistics leads when he found Nolan Cruz, his longtime business partner, waiting at their booth with two brandy glasses and a grin that always meant trouble.“Hey,” Nolan said, nudging him with an elbow. “You see that woman in the black silk dress near the terrace?”Saben followed his gaze.The woman Nolan had indicated sat with poised poise, laughter spilling easily from her lips. Her red lipstick was perfect, her smile calculated. Black silk streamed down her body like liquid ink.Her opponent sat across from her, a man who appeared to be confidence incarnate navy suit, clean cut, unnervingly composed. He leaned in to remark on something, and the woman laughed once more, flinging her hair over one sh
The rain sprinkled softly against the windows, casting rivulets on the glass much like the tears that would not cease flowing from Jenny White's eyes. She was curled up on the edge of the bed, elbows wrapped tightly around her knees. The end of the world had occurred, and all she could do was gasp through the devastation. Her phone lay at hand, Zina's name still on the screen.Zina's breath was taken as Jenny's voice cracked across the receiver, raw and trembling."If only I'm not pregnant. I would go through bars. I'd scream. I'd break things. I'd do anything just to get this pain out of me," Jenny sobbed, her voice choking on every word. "But I can't. I can't even fall apart properly."There was a heavy silence on the phone. For a moment, even Zina—the ever-controlled, competent Zina—was speechless."Jenny…" she whispered at last, her words all but inaudible over the gentle sob of Jenny's weeping."I just loved him, Zina," Jenny continued, her voice a fragile echo of what it used t
The streetlights twinkled outside Jenny White's apartment, casting dim echoes on her frigid, unopened dinner. Her sitting room was dimly lit, having only the pale blue light from her phone screen.Tears dampened her cheeks. Her arms were pinned around her knees as she crouched on the couch—still dressed for work, too stunned to change. Her heart was sinking in on itself, slowly, agonizingly.She gazed at the picture once more.JM.Eva Ross.Smiling. Hand in hand.Wine glasses in the background. Her scent on his shirt.He didn't even attempt to conceal it.Jenny's fingers shook as she dialed his number once more. For the third time that evening. Perhaps even the fifth.Ring.Ring.Voicemail.She breathed shakily, her palm clapped over her mouth to prevent the sob from escaping. But it broke through anyway—a raw, anguished sound ringing through the silence of her apartment."Why…" she whispered, voice cracking. "What did I do to deserve this?"She squeezed her eyes shut, their vows danc
That evening…Jenny White had returned home like a specter,.Her new heels tapped off the floor without beat, her arms hanging slack at her sides. The city lights that had given her apartment such a vital glow now burned cold and sharp through the window, throwing a hard web of shadows that stretched out over the stillness. She'd set her bag on the couch and stood rigid for an instant as if she'd forgotten how to be in her own body.The hurt hadn't lessened. If anything, it was more powerful.It wasn't break-up now. It was mourning.She loved JM Reese with every fiber of her being believing his words, clutching every "I miss you" like holy scripture. But he didn't lose affection for her.He dumped her.But her heart, as stubborn as ever, would not let go.With shaky fingers, she grabbed her phone. Her fingers trembled over his name—JM Reese—for a minute before she found the courage to punch call.The phone rang once.Twice.Three times.Click.He answered."Jenny," JM's voice was emot
The Next Day – Boardroom, Thompson Holdings HeadquartersThe glass surface of the long table reflected the overhead fluorescent light, paired with power suits and sour faces. The board meeting had begun in customary efficiency: numbers, forecasts, organization. Saben Thompson sat at the head of the table, sharp in his neatly pressed gray suit, eyes squinting at the screen as charts and graphs flashed on and off.But there was one pair of eyes in the room that were not on the screen.Jenny White.She sat silently to his right, neat as ever crisp cream blouse, neat black pencil skirt, subtle makeup. But her characteristic sparkle? Her briskness, her impeccable self-confidence?Absent.Her eyes were glassy, unfocused, looking at the edge of the table in front of her. She hadn't sipped her coffee. She hadn't taken any notes. She didn't even catch the sound of her name mentioned once during the financial update.Saben did.He watched her cautiously, his jaw locking. Not Jenny. Never late.