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Chapter 3 The Coffee Shop Severance Plan

Word Count: 1643    |    Released on: Today at 16:55

The morning bustle of Manhattan was a jarring contrast to the silent, suffocating panic in her own head. Ta

shop tucked into a side street and

w," she commanded, he

sure her own back was to the window. A paranoid part of her brain imagi

ooking at the menu. She needed the bitterness, the scalding heat,

sion a mixture of concern and impatience. "Okay, we're out of the hotel. We're hidden

water on the table, her fingers tracing the condens

dden, flashed

mach churning with a sick feeling she couldn't shake. Her fiancé, Brenton Wood, had been acting distant all night - not cold ex

to a secluded side lounge, intending

e he was

ill perfectly pressed. His champagne glass sat untouched on the side table beside him, catching the low amber light. And his hands - the hands that had slid an engagement ring onto her finger eight months ago, the hands she had held at his father's funeral

felt like swallowing glass, that this was not a moment of weakness. This was not a first time. The ease of them - the way Mara's fingers were alrea

door from the opposite sid

o had already begun to suspect. Over Brenton's shoulder, Elaine could see Alaric's fiancée, Genevieve Sinclair - polished, beautiful Genevieve, who had smiled at Elaine at every charity gala and called her darli

of them h

had the audacity to look mildly inconvenienced rather than ashamed. Brenton straightened up and cleared h

-" he s

ked out before he coul

ce low and absolutely controlled, the voice of a man who had rehearsed for catastrophe. Within minutes, security had discreetly appeared,

e problem as if

slept with. A man who dealt wi

gh her. She shook her head,

tney's voice w

iend couldn't possibly understand. "I need to get

five minutes ago you were acting like he b

rp, desperate edge. "He's... complicated. He's a prob

e, replaced by a shrewd seriousness. "Okay. Big p

.. things." He knows who I am. H

ed the cup, the heat searing her palms. She took a s

nce," Courtney said, h

ared at h

to sign something. It's... what people in our world do. With... problems." A flicker of hesitation crossed her face, and she glanced

, perfect. It was a language Alaric Caldwell would understand. The language of deals, of severance packages,

ving mode. "Five thousand? Ten? I can lend you wha

couldn't take Courtney's money. Not for this. Not when the man she was pa

lie. Her trust fund was her main source of income, but she had some savings. It would

tation vanishing as practicality took over. "Same-day delivery. T

messy, desperate, humiliating plan, but a plan nonetheless. She could fix this.

was in her personal account? Could she sell

ou're about to be sick again." She sighed, a wistful note in her voice

she felt it - a deep, aching protest that shot up from her bare, blistered soles all the way to her hip. The lobby marble had been punishing enough. The cracked pavem

s narrowed. "Y

Elaine said,

rally listing

out her card to pay before Courtney could. It was a small gest

the cold concrete found every raw patch on the bottoms of her feet at once. She took

eyes scanning the street for a taxi. She had to get home. She had t

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