The Billionaire's Return

ia's

looming threat. I forced myself into autopilot, greeting customers with my usual smile and keep

my mind, nonstop refusing to give me peace. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Mark's innoce

's voice pulled m

afé," he explained proudly, pointing to the tiny details-a steam

ady. My throat tightened as I looked at the picture. Mark's littl

was Daniel again, but instead, it was Mrs. Edith, one of my regulars.

e said, her tone as chee

eplied, then added in a ch

ounter and started pouring he

u look pale," she asked, her

ine,"

, what's wrong? Yo

d said with a big fake smile, spreadin

further. I busied myself with preparin

on in my chest. My mind kept drifting back to the documents. The demolition order was stampe

ome cruel coincidence, or was it deliberate? I needed answers, but confron

r to figuring out what to do. I sat at the counter, staring blankly

up, and my hea

flanked him, their briefcases and solemn ex

ed, standing as he a

Daniel said, his

day, there's nothi

yes, I'm Mr. Whitaker, legal counsel for Carter Enterprises.

ng. "This isn't a negotiation! This is m

. Whitaker, his gaze locked on min

lanations," I snapped.

all voice cut th

ck room, clutching his drawing. His eyes darted betwe

rk. There it was again-that flicker of recognit

m," I said quickly, my voi

t,

sisted, my

retreating, his litt

to me, his face pal

arned, my vo

, his eyes searching

pressing down on me like a tidal wave. My heart po

me that," I said, my voi

hot back, his calm demeano

u lost any right to ask that question the day y

ed forward, holding out a document. "Ms. Haye

he text. My blood ran cold as I realized what it was-a

. "I'm not signing anything. You can take your

ing this harder than it needs to be. I'm trying to take it easy

ng. "You must really have the nerve

ered into his ear, "I will not le

to see Mrs. Edith standing there, her

" she asked, her eyes dart

ing's fine, Mrs. Edith. We're ju

then back at me. "Thi

," I replied,

ll filed out, leaving the café heavy

s shaking. The fight wasn't over-it was just the beginning a

r wasn't just here to take my café. H

, suffocating and relentless. The crumpled document lay on the counter, a cruel reminder of the destruction looming over my c

, and the past s

l my hands burned. I can still feel the icy sting of the tiles beneath me

utting through me like a blade. "I work all day, and thi

it worse. I had learned the hard way that silence was my only defense.

apped. My mother's voice echoed in my head, just

her tone dripping with disdain. "Do you know how many women would k

ho should be grateful for the scraps of love Richard offered

was my escape, my freedom. And now, Da