Chapter 7
As Mr. King left, Jessica waved at his car and turned to enter hers, the one she knew was brought by the police officers.
She let out a long sigh as she settled in. As she drove down the boulevard, a brightly lit supermarket caught her attention. Something tugged at her heart.
She made a quick turn and parked.
Inside, the aisles smelled faintly of citrus and polished wood. She walked past the grocery section and headed to the men's accessories. Her fingers grazed a sleek, navy-blue tie and a classic silver watch. Without hesitation, she picked both.
At the counter, the cashier, a woman in her forties with a cheerful smile, scanned the items.
"Great taste," the lady said, wrapping the tie with a gentle touch. "Your husband's going to love these."
Jessica flushed slightly, caught off guard. "Oh, he's not—he's not my husband."
The woman smiled knowingly. "Not yet, maybe. Still, a thoughtful gift."
Jessica bit her lip but said nothing more. She inserted her card and tapped her PIN.
"All done. Here you go." The lady handed her the bag.
"Thank you."
As Jessica exited the store, the city lights began flickering on, casting long shadows across the road.
She climbed into her car again, holding the bag close to her chest. Her fingers brushed the corner of the box.
She drove straight to the Cooper Family Estate
Jessica slammed the door behind her, barely catching her breath when her father's palm came flying at her face.
SMACK!
Her head snapped sideways.
"I CALLED TO CHECK ON THE CONTRACT!" Mr. Cooper roared. "You didn't even show up! Instead, you were out there fighting with Chelsea, dragging our name through the mud! Do you know how many calls I've received? DO YOU?!"
Jessica held her cheek, red and stinging, trying hard not to cry. "Dad, I—"
"Don't you dare speak!" he snapped. "Just pray your face doesn't end up in the media. If you tarnish the image of this company, Jessica, I don't care if you're my daughter. I will sell you off myself!"
She swallowed the lump in her throat.
"Right now, get out of this house. Until you sign the contract with Mr. King and fix the mess you've made—don't come back."
Jessica blinked, stunned. "You're kicking me out?"
"Out!"
Her father's final word echoed through the marbled hallway as Jessica turned and walked out, dragging her suitcase behind her.
...
Sitting in her car, she let out a breath, willing the tears not to fall. Her phone lit up. She immediately called her childhood friend.
"Cecilia, can you help me? I need a place to stay."
Cecilia didn't hesitate. "There's a vacant unit right next to mine. I'll call the landlord. You remember the place, right?"
"Yeah. I've been there. I'll take it."
She drove over without looking back.
...
By 5 PM, Jessica was signing the lease agreement while Cecilia watched her with narrowed eyes.
"You ran out of your family estate like it was on fire," Cecilia said, handing her a pen. "What happened?"
Jessica's hand stilled. She let out a shaky breath. "My dad... he kicked me out. I told him everything."
Cecilia folded her arms. "Wait—everything? The fight, Chelsea, the contract meeting you skipped?"
Jessica nodded slowly.
"That Chelsea bitch!" Cecilia shouted, making Jessica jump. "How could she be so heartless? And your ex-fiancé? Are you still engaged to that idiot?"
Jessica shook her head. "No. I'm ending it soon."
Cecilia's face softened. "I'm sorry you're going through all this, Jess."
Jessica gave a bitter smile. "Thanks. Let's unpack? And... I'll eat at your place tonight."
"Eat? You freeloading already?" Cecilia teased. "Food here costs, you know. But I guess the poor heiress can handle it."
Jessica chuckled. "I'll take the debt."
They both laughed, arms full of boxes, walking into her new apartment.
...
Meanwhile, in the luxurious King apartment Spencer King leaned back in his leather chair.
"Report," he said coldly.
His assistant laid out the files.
"Sir, after the incident today, Mr. Cooper threw Miss Jessica out of the family estate. We caught the moment." He handed over a printed photo of the slap.
Spencer's eyes darkened.
The assistant continued. "She called Cecilia Owen, childhood friend. Cecilia found her a unit beside hers. Jessica moved in almost immediately. Payment was made in full. Here's the lease contract."
Another photo was placed on the table—Jessica outside the building with her suitcase, signature visible on the document.
Spencer tapped his fingers rhythmically against the table, his gaze lingering on the images.
"She's determined," he murmured.
"And she didn't return to her father's house. She's living there."
Spencer flipped through each file slowly.
He wasn't fond of women.
Never had been.
Too loud, too dramatic, too clingy.
But this one… Jessica Cooper… she didn't fit the mold. She was like a firework mid-sky—loud, unpredictable, but beautiful in the chaos.
His lips twitched.
"Keep the updates coming," he said finally.
"Yes, sir."
As the assistant left, Spencer King picked up a glass of scotch. He stood, walking over to the window.
He took a sip.
Why couldn't he get her off his mind?