Chapter4

When the scent of fried eggs and coffee crept into the bedroom, I almost thought I was still feverish and dreaming.

I opened my eyes. Jordan was walking in carrying a tray, face wearing a deliberately gentle smile I hadn't seen in ages.

"Good morning, sweetheart." He set the tray on the nightstand, displaying perfect scrambled eggs, toast, and a steaming cup of coffee. "I got up and made you breakfast."

I propped myself up to sit, didn't touch the food, just looked at him. Sunlight through the curtains lit his face, and he actually looked somewhat nervous, fingers unconsciously rubbing the tray's edge.

This abnormal attentiveness screamed like an alarm in my head.

"What do you want to say, Jordan?"

His smile stiffened for a moment, then he worked to adjust it to something more affectionate.

"Can't I just be good to my girlfriend? I've... I know I've neglected your feelings lately, especially after Chloe moved in. I was too focused on taking care of her, forgot you need me too."

He sat on the bed's edge, trying to take my hand.

I pulled my hand back. "So?"

He took a deep breath, eyes beginning to shift.

"So... I want to make it up to you. Let's talk properly, start fresh, like before." He paused, finally looking up, a trace of barely noticeable urgency in his gaze. "Also, the company has a critical project right now, needs a short-term bridge loan. Not much, just around five hundred thousand, for two months' turnover. I know you know some patrons in the art world, you've always had good connections... could you think of a way to help me out?"

Ah. So that's what this is about.

I looked at him, suddenly wanting to laugh. The aroma of scrambled eggs became nauseating.

"You need five hundred thousand. So that's why you got up early to make breakfast today, to say these nice things to me?"

"This isn't a transaction, Sienna!" He immediately objected, voice rising slightly with the annoyance of being exposed. "I genuinely want to repair our relationship! It's just... the company happens to need a little help too. For you it's just making a few phone calls, right? You've helped me before."

"Before was before." I said flatly, throwing off the covers to get out of bed, avoiding that tray. "I don't want to talk about this now."

"Sienna, don't be like this." He stood up following me, tone softening, coaxing. "Let's both calm down. Tonight we'll go out to eat, talk properly, okay? Just the two of us."

Just then, an exaggerated shriek came from the living room, followed by a heavy thud and Chloe's crying call: "Jordan! It hurts!"

Jordan's expression changed instantly. All his attempted warmth and patience vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by genuine, undisguised anxiety.

He didn't even look at me again, didn't leave a word, turned and rushed out of the bedroom, footsteps urgent and heavy.

I stood there, listening to his tense voice from outside: "Chloe! God, where did you hurt yourself? Don't move, let me see!" and Chloe's even more delicate sobbing: "I... I was just trying to pour you some water, tripped on the carpet... my ankle, I think I twisted it..."

I walked to the bedroom door, leaving it slightly ajar to look out. Jordan was kneeling on one knee in the living room on that ugly pink carpet, carefully helping Chloe up, letting her lean against the sofa, his face full of distress and concern.

The way he examined her ankle, so focused, so gentle, as if it were the most fragile treasure in the world.

I quietly closed the door and locked it.

Heartbeat steady, no waves. The last trace of ridiculous expectation evaporated completely before this scene.

I walked to the closet and pulled out that large suitcase I'd packed last night, and another smaller carry-on bag. Inside were all my documents, important files, laptop, that locked file box, and a few necessities.

Everything else didn't matter anymore.

I changed into going-out clothes and picked up the luggage.

The commotion in the living room continued. Chloe seemed to be in considerable pain, Jordan was softly comforting her, discussing whether to go to the hospital. Perfect, they wouldn't notice me for a while.

I silently opened the apartment door, walked out, and gently closed it. The heavy door shut out that suffocating world inside.

Standing in the hallway, I pulled out my phone and quickly dialed a number.

"It's me, Sienna Reed." My real estate agent, extremely efficient, extremely discreet. "My downtown apartment on Oak Street, the penthouse—list it for sale immediately. Full authorization to you, you set the price. I have only one requirement—fastest possible cash transaction. All furniture and items inside, included with the property, no need to keep anything."

"Sienna, are you sure? That apartment's market value is currently—"

"I'm sure. Start the process today. Also," I continued instructing, tone without fluctuation, "contact the bank, freeze all joint accounts associated with my name, especially credit accounts and checking accounts shared with Jordan Sterling. Execute immediately, no need to notify the other party."

"Understood. I'll prepare the paperwork right away."

Hanging up, I pulled my luggage toward the elevator.

As the elevator descended, my phone vibrated. On the screen, Jordan's name flashed frantically.

He'd probably finally realized I wasn't in the bedroom, or he'd finally finished soothing his "sister" and remembered he hadn't gotten that five hundred thousand commitment yet.

I watched the screen light up and dim, dim and light up. Once, twice, three times.

Then I blocked that number.

The elevator reached the underground garage. I walked to my car, got into the driver's seat, started the engine.

The car screen lit up, automatically connecting to my phone.

One final item on the to-do list. I pressed voice dial.

"Dad," when the call connected, I said, "you can execute the final step now. Cut off all oxygen. I want him to suffocate completely."

The car pulled out of the garage, merging into morning traffic.

In the rearview mirror, that glass tower that had housed three years of my foolish time quickly shrank and disappeared.

And my flight took off in two hours.