Chapter 3 3

The next evening, Adelynn fled her oppressive apartment and headed to the small dive bar she often visited with her friends, Jodie and Mitch.

Jodie slammed a shot of tequila down on the sticky bar counter. "Screw them. If they don't appreciate you, someone else will."

Adelynn forced a tired, faint smile, twisting the salt shaker between her fingers.

Mitch, always calm and practical, slid a glass of water toward her. "Easy," he said to Jodie. "Your chance might still be coming." He turned to Adelynn, his face softening with concern. "Are you okay? You've barely said a word all night."

The three of them had been inseparable since their first day at Parsons School of Design. Jodie, the wild, fearless textile designer; Mitch, the precise, brilliant architect; and Adelynn, the dreamer who sketched couture gowns in the margins of her notebooks.

But now, Mitch designed soulless office parks for a corporate firm. Jodie struggled to get by with odd freelance jobs. And Adelynn... she was just a coffee runner, working for people who would never see her worth.

"I'm fine," she lied, taking a sip of water. "Just tired."

"Tired of running around for people who don't see you?" Jodie shot back, her voice sharp with care. "You should've dumped that whole tray of coffee on his thousand-dollar shoes! Let him taste cheap coffee for once!"

Adelynn flinched instinctively. "It wasn't that dramatic. He didn't even look at me."

"That's what makes it worse!" Jodie leaned in, agitated. "It's the ultimate power move - completely erasing you. That's... cold. Sociopath cold."

"He's a CEO, Jodie. They live in a different world," Mitch tried to mediate. "They're not on the same level as ordinary people like us."

But Adelynn knew it was deeper than that. The chill radiating from Christian Mercer was not just wealth or class. It was emptiness - a quiet, unshakable coldness rooted deep in his soul.

Her phone vibrated inside her purse again.

It was Jefferson.

She quickly flipped it to silent, shoved it deeper into her bag, and clenched her jaw slightly.

Jodie's sharp eyes caught her small movement. "Still not over him?"

Adelynn nodded, afraid to speak, fearing her voice would break.

Their breakup six months earlier had been quiet, slow, and deeply painful. Jefferson, with his gentle eyes and stable family, could never understand the chasm that had opened up in her life. He had offered to help, to pay a few bills... but his kindness felt like a chain, constantly reminding her how far she had fallen. She refused to be his project, his damsel in distress, his charity case.

"You know," Mitch began carefully, "his father's company is one of the biggest developers in the city. He could probably..."

"No," Adelynn cut him off, sharper than she intended. "I'm not asking him for money, Mitch. I never will."

Her pride was all she had left - a dented, fragile shield... but she clung to it with everything she had. Accepting help from Jefferson would mean admitting total defeat, that the life she once dreamed of was gone forever.

Jodie reached across the table and squeezed her hand tightly, her palm warm and steady. "We get it, Addy. We've got your back. We'll figure it out. We always have."

Adelynn looked at her two best friends, their faces filled with genuine worry, and a warm wave of gratitude washed over her.