Chapter 3

Jesse saw Kianna first. She quickly wiped her tears and offered a weak, apologetic smile.

"Kianna, you're home. I'm so sorry, Brayden was just about to go pick you up."

She stood up, leaning on Brayden for support. "And thank you. For the blood. I don't know what I would have done without you."

Jesse reached out and took Kianna's hand, her touch light and feathery. But as she did, her thumb pressed, hard, directly onto the fresh, dark bruise on Kianna's arm.

Pain shot up Kianna's arm, and she instinctively pulled back.

Jesse gasped, stumbling backward as if Kianna had pushed her. "Oh!"

Brayden caught her instantly. "Jesse! Are you okay?"

He shot Kianna a look of pure ice. "What is wrong with you? She just got out of the hospital!"

Kianna stared at him, her mouth open in disbelief. The world tilted on its axis. He didn't even ask. He just assumed.

She was so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of explaining, tired of being the one who had to be strong and understanding.

"I'm sorry," she said, the words tasting like ash. "I didn't mean to."

Brayden's expression softened slightly. Jesse, ever the magnanimous one, smiled. "It's okay. I know you've been through a lot too. Actually, I was hoping you could come with us tomorrow. Brayden has a big patent hearing, and he'll need our support."

She looked at Brayden, her eyes shining with adoration. "You're going to be amazing."

Kianna saw the pride in Brayden's eyes as he looked at Jesse. He loved that she understood his world, his work. He had never looked at Kianna that way when she talked about her own dreams of engineering.

"It's about time you saw the world Brayden lives in," Jesse added, her tone syrupy sweet. "You've been cooped up for too long."

The implication was clear. This is our world. You're just a visitor.

"Okay," Kianna said quietly. She had already signed the papers. She would be gone soon. One last humiliation wouldn't make a difference.

The courtroom was intimidating, all dark wood and high ceilings. Brayden and Jesse sat at the plaintiff's table, a perfect team. They whispered to each other, heads close together, a picture of intimacy and partnership.

Jesse turned to Kianna, who was sitting in the gallery behind them. "Kianna, could you go get us some coffee? Two blacks, no sugar."

It wasn't a request. It was an order.

Brayden didn't even look at her. "Not now, Jesse. And Kianna wouldn't know where to go." He said it with the casual dismissiveness of someone shooing away a child.

Jesse gave Kianna a smug, triumphant smirk over her shoulder.

Kianna felt a familiar burn of shame. She was an inconvenience. A piece of his past that didn't fit into his shiny new future. He was ashamed of her. Ashamed of the girl who worked in a diner, who had saved him when he had nothing.

She was leaving. Soon, she would be just a memory he could erase.

The hearing began. Jesse was brilliant, her arguments sharp and precise. But then the opposing counsel presented a surprise piece of evidence, a technical document that seemed to undermine Brayden's entire patent claim.

The courtroom buzzed. Jesse paled, fumbling through her notes. Brayden' s face was a mask of grim frustration.

Kianna' s heart pounded. This patent was everything to him. It was the foundation of his new empire.

She looked at the document projected on the screen. Her mind, honed by years of self-study and a natural gift for engineering, saw it instantly. A flaw in their argument. A detail they had missed.

Without thinking, she leaned forward. "The timestamp," she whispered urgently. "The timestamp on their prototype's source code is post-dated. It's after your filing date. They falsified it."

The opposing lawyer, who had overheard, froze. His face went white.

Jesse stared at Kianna, her eyes wide with shock and fury. How dare this line cook understand something she, a Stanford law graduate, had missed?

Brayden looked from Kianna to the screen, his own eyes widening in realization. He stood up abruptly.

"Your Honor, we request a brief recess to examine this new information."

The judge granted it. Brayden grabbed Jesse's hand and pulled her out of the courtroom, not even glancing at Kianna.

Kianna followed them out, a hollow feeling in her stomach. She heard their voices from around the corner.

"I can't believe I missed that," Jesse was saying, her voice tight with frustration. "She made me look like an idiot!"

"It's not your fault," Brayden's voice was low and soothing. "She's... scrappy. She picks things up. You're the real deal, Jesse. You're a brilliant lawyer. She's just a cook who got lucky."

His words hit her like a physical blow. Just a cook who got lucky.

Her heart, which she thought couldn't break any further, shattered into dust.

She saw him gently squeeze Jesse' s shoulder, a gesture of comfort and intimacy. The same way he used to touch her.

She stumbled back, a choked sob rising in her throat. Something on a small table by the wall caught her eye. It was a model of the very first device he ever designed, a small, intricate thing he had built in their tiny apartment. She had bought him the parts with her tip money. He had given it to her, saying it was the cornerstone of their future. He had told her to always keep it safe.

Now, it was just sitting here, a forgotten relic. As she watched, a janitor bumped the table. The model slid off and shattered on the marble floor.

It was a perfect, brutal metaphor.

Kianna turned and ran. She fled to the restroom, locking herself in a stall. She stared at her own reflection in the polished chrome of the toilet paper dispenser. A pale, tear-streaked face stared back.

The door to the restroom swung open. Jesse Collins stood there, her arms crossed, her expression a mask of pure hatred.

"You just couldn't stay out of it, could you?"