196 "Five days after my C-section, my husband loaded his mother into our luxury SUV and handed me bus fare instead. “Don't make this difficult,” he said, pressing a few bills into my hand while I stood outside the hospital holding our newborn son. I said nothing. I looked down at the money... then called the one person he never should have underestimated.

The silence at the table was deafening.

Priscilla and Gillian stopped laughing, their glasses suspended in mid-air as they watched Jasper’s face turn from a flushed, triumphant red to a sickly, hollow white.

"Richard... what are you talking about?" Jasper stammered, his voice cracking as he gripped the phone. "Hailey’s father is Finnley Ward. He’s a retired contractor. He—"

"His name is Finnley Robertson, you absolute fool!" Richard roared so loudly that the adjacent tables turned to look. "He used 'Ward' as a pseudonym for years to protect his family’s privacy. He is the majority shareholder of Robertson Global Corp. He owns the banks that finance our venture fund! Ten minutes ago, we received a personal call from his office. If we don't sever all ties with your company, Robertson Global will liquidate our entire fund by the end of the business day. We'd be bankrupt before market close!"

Jasper’s breath hitched. He felt as though the air had been violently sucked from his lungs. Finnley Robertson. The billionaire.

"Richard, wait! There has to be a mistake! Hailey wouldn't do this, she—"

"Hailey didn't do this. You did," Richard hissed. "The word is already out. You threw the daughter of the most powerful man in the country out of your car five days after major surgery. You’re radioactive, Jasper. No one in Silicon Valley, New York, or London will ever touch your company. You're finished."

The line went dead.

Jasper slowly lowered the phone, his eyes wide and vacant.

"Jasper, darling?" Priscilla asked, her voice tight with sudden anxiety. "What did he say? Who is pulling out?"

"Everything," Jasper whispered, his hands trembling so violently he knocked over his water glass, the liquid soaking into the pristine white tablecloth. "The funding is gone. The company is going under."

"What?!" Gillian gasped, her face twisting in horror. "But what about my trust fund? What about the expansion? You promised me a VP position!"

"Shut up!" Jasper yelled, slamming his hand on the table. He stood up, his heart hammering in his chest like a trapped animal. "We have to go. Now."

They rushed out of the restaurant, leaving several hundred dollars in cash on the table, and ran toward the valet stand. Jasper’s black luxury SUV—the one Hailey's father had gifted them—was parked right at the front.

Jasper grabbed the keys from the valet and unlocked the doors, but as he reached for the driver's side handle, a heavy, gloved hand clapped down on his shoulder.

Jasper spun around, ready to shout, but stopped when he saw two men in dark suits standing behind him. Behind them was a flatbed tow truck, already backing up toward the SUV.

"What do you think you're doing?" Jasper snapped, trying to regain his composure. "That's my car!"

"Actually, sir, it isn't," one of the men said, pulling a laminated document from his pocket. "This vehicle is registered under the corporate fleet of Robertson Global Leasing. The lease was authorized under the name of Hailey Robertson. As of ten minutes ago, the authorization has been revoked. The vehicle is being repossessed."

"No, no, no!" Priscilla screamed, running up to the men. "My son is a CEO! You can't tow our car in public! Do you know how embarrassing this is?!"

"Please step back, ma'am," the officer said, his voice completely flat. "If you attempt to enter the vehicle, we will have you arrested for grand theft auto. The police have already been notified of the revocation."

Jasper watched in absolute horror as the tow truck hook clicked onto the bumper of the luxury SUV. The mechanical winch began to groan, pulling his pride and joy onto the flatbed. His mother and sister stood on the sidewalk of the busy Manhattan street, their expensive designer dresses looking ridiculous as onlookers began to whisper and take photos with their phones.

"Jasper..." Gillian whispered, her voice trembling. "What do we do now?"

Jasper looked down at his phone. He dialed Hailey's number, his chest tight with a sudden, desperate panic.

The number you have dialed is no longer in service.

He tried her old email. Delivery Failure.

He tried her social media accounts. He was blocked on everything.

"We have to go to the apartment," Jasper said, his voice hollow. "She has to be there. She has nowhere else to go. She’s just trying to scare me. Once I apologize, she'll call her father off."

They hailed a yellow cab, the three of them squeezing into the back seat. The ride to their luxury high-rise apartment on the Upper West Side was a silent, agonizing torture. Jasper kept telling himself that Hailey was soft. She loved him. She had endured his insults and his family's snide remarks for two years because she wanted to keep the peace. Surely, she wouldn't destroy his life over a bus ride.