Chapter 9
Jessie’s clear eyes held no trace of emotion.
It was the day after what had once been their wedding anniversary–now just another date. Today
marked Nelson and Lila’s true seven–year anniversary.
Her phone rang. Nelson’s name lit up the screen.
She answered, and his voice came through sharp with anger.
“Jessie, I’m ordering you to come back to the hospital. Lila’s condition has taken a turn, and you’re
going to be the one to take care of her.”
Jessie stared at the phone, her tone flat.
“Didn’t you already hand over my uterus as compensation to her? Now you want me to nurse her
back to health too?”
“Jessie, get this straight–Lila’s body has suffered serious trauma because of you. She lost the baby she was carrying–three months along. Do you have any idea what it feels like for a mother to lose
her child?”
A dull, aching pain bloomed in Jessie’s chest. Images flickered in her mind–of the two babies she
had lost.
After leaving the hospital that day, she had placed them gently in a cryobox, then had them
delivered to the restaurant where she and Nelson had celebrated every wedding anniversary for six
years.
She’d left instructions with the manager: on the seventh year–the last year–the “anniversary
gift” would be handed to Nelson.
“I know, Nelson,” she said quietly.
“Good,” he replied, his tone commanding, almost smug. “Then you’ll come take care of Lila. I’ll forgive you. You’ll stay by my side. You and Lila–no lines between you.”
Jessie could hear it in his voice–he wanted both.
Her mind flashed back to their wedding day, to his vows:
Jessie, I love you. I will love only you, for the rest of my life.
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She remembered their friends teasing him at the reception:
“Nelson, what if you ever hurt Jessie?”
“Then I’ll jump from the top floor of the Voss Group headquarters.”
The laughter, the music, the champagne–it all rang in her ears as if it were yesterday.
She took a slow breath, gathering the last of her strength. Her voice was calm, but final.
“Nelson, we’re done.”
Seven years of a marriage that had never existed on paper–only in name. And now, all it took to end it was two words: We’re done.
She ended the call.
Jessie walked into a quiet café, ordered a coffee, and pulled out her phone. There were loose ends that needed cutting. She dialed her attorney.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Hale. What can I do for you?”
“Three things,” Jessie said, her voice crisp.
“First, regarding Asher Easton’s CEO position–transfer all the holdings I hold to support his older
brother.
Second, Lefton Group’s financial black hole–leak the news and file a lawsuit against Jackson
Lefton to recover the five billion dollars he owes me.
Third, the evidence my grandfather left–the proof that Steve Voss murdered his own son and daughter–in–law–hand it over to the police.”
She remembered the power struggle within the Easton family years ago. Nelson had been barred by Steve from getting involved, forced to sit on the sidelines, sulking over his inability to help his friend.
It was Jessie who had gone to the Hale house, who had pleaded with her grandfather to step in quietly and support Asher Easton. That intervention was the reason Asher had won the Easton Group at all.
And Steve, who had indirectly caused the deaths of his own son and daughter–in–law–her
grandfather had known the truth all along.
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Steve himself had begged for silence, and her grandfather had kept it. He never could have imagined that, in the end, Steve would lay the blame at their family’s feet.
Then there was Jackson Lefton–Nelson’s loyal friend. The Lefton family was rotting from the inside, corruption tearing it apart. The books had a fifty–billion–dollar hole.
Six months ago, Jackson had come to her personally, asking for a loan, swearing her to secrecy from Nelson. She had helped him.
And in return, they had all stood with Nelson, keeping her in the dark.
She didn’t believe in returning kindness for betrayal. Not anymore.
And she wasn’t going to let them laugh at her behind her back, treating her like a fool.
Anyone she had ever helped, who had chosen to turn against her, would feel her hand taking everything back.
The last meeting of the day was with Charles.
“Jessie, you’re in a hurry,” he said, his voice low, almost amused. “I can raise half the amount within an hour. The other half will be in your account within the week.”
Her clear eyes betrayed nothing–not fear, not doubt.
Charles studied her for a moment, then leaned in.
“Are you sure about this? If you sell me your holdings in the Voss Group, I will take over the company. Nelson will never recover.”
Jessie picked up the pen and, without the slightest hesitation, signed her name on the share transfer contract.
When the deal was done, Charles personally drove her to the airport.
“Jessie… can’t you stay?” he asked as they stood at the curb.
She turned to look at him, her gaze steady. Instead of answering, she sidestepped the question entirely.
“Congratulations, Charles. As of today, in Silverpine’s circle of top five dynasties… only the
Hollands remain.”
day for what they had done.
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She turned and walked through the departure gate without a backward glance.
Nelson–this was the end. No ties, no tenderness. Only mutual hatred from here on out.
”
