Chapter 3

Connections? Resources?

Jessica almost laughed out loud. "Sure, I'd love to know — what connections or resources have I actually gotten from the Whitmore family these past few years?"

"Jessica!" Anna came down from upstairs at the sound of her voice, wearing a look of concern that was really just pouring fuel on the fire. "Why are you making such a scene? Don't tell me you're still blaming everyone for losing you back then?"

Joseph, the one most responsible for losing Jessica in the first place, froze for a second before his face flushed red with embarrassment and indignation. "I didn't do it on purpose! And besides, you were found, weren't you?"

"So what?" Jessica turned to Joseph and demanded, "Does 'at least you were found' somehow erase everything I went through during all those years I was gone?"

When she'd first come home, Joseph had shown her some kindness for a while, guilt getting the better of him. But Anna's tears had washed all of that away.

After that, whatever guilt remained was replaced by resentment. The only thing left in his eyes when he looked at her was impatience.

In this family, Jessica had always been the outsider. At least now she finally understood that.

She looked at the three of them, her voice cold. "I've said everything I needed to say. Don't expect to see me again." Then she turned and walked out without a second glance.

"She actually left?" Maeve watched Jessica's retreating figure, furious — but somewhere underneath the anger, a faint and nameless unease flickered through her.

Beside her, Joseph snatched a glass off the table and hurled it to the floor.

Jessica took her few belongings back to the dorm room the school had assigned her. She saved a backup of the recording she'd kept, then cleaned the room from top to bottom before finally sitting down to rest.

She had just plugged in her phone and turned it on when messages flooded the screen like a burst dam.

She frowned and opened the family group chat. It was wall-to-wall accusations. Jessica couldn't be bothered to read through them one by one — she left the group and didn't look back.

At that same moment, back at the Whitmore Estate, Anna saw the notification: "Jessica has left the group." Something cold flickered in her eyes.

She dialed Miguel Jimenez's number. The moment he picked up, her voice went soft and broken. "Miguel, did I do something wrong? Jessica seems to really resent me over the competition spot. I just wanted to do something for the family."

The second Miguel heard her crying, his tone shifted. "Anna, don't cry. I'll handle this."

Anna's eyes dropped, but the corner of her mouth curved just slightly. "But Jessica won't listen to anyone in the family anymore. You're the only one she listens to. Can you talk to her? I don't want to be the reason things get this bad between her and the family."

Miguel was quiet for a moment, then: "Don't worry. I'll get her to give up the spot."

A few minutes later, his call came through.

When Jessica saw his name on the screen, something in her stilled. Memories rose and scattered like startled butterflies, drifting further and further away.

Miguel was her childhood sweetheart. They'd grown up together.

His family didn't have much, but he was brilliant — one in a million, the kind of person who earns a place at a top-ten university in the world.

And maybe because he'd grown up with so little, he understood class divides better than anyone.

Jessica used to think it was pride that kept him from bowing to power. Later, she realized she had it wrong. It wasn't that he refused to lower himself — he just hadn't found anyone worth lowering himself for.

After Jessica was brought back home, she couldn't bear the thought of Miguel losing his dream school over tuition. She sold the diamond necklace Maeve had given her, tears running down her face, and took the family's curses for it.

Miguel had been so moved he held her tight, eyes wet, and promised her he would never let her down.

She'd been so foolish back then. So completely swept up in the world he'd carefully built around her with sweet words that she missed the flash of awe in his eyes the first time he saw Anna — and didn't understand until later, when the betrayal finally broke her open.

"Jessica, when are you planning to give Anna the spot?"

Miguel's low voice cut through her thoughts.

Jessica let out a quiet, cold laugh. "Who said I was?"

He caught the chill in her voice and didn't flinch. "I'm saying this for your own good. At the rate you're going, even if you use the spot, you won't place well. Anna's different — she's had the best education her whole life."

Jessica had heard this line too many times. Dressed up as concern, it was really just a way to get what he wanted.

She smiled, sharp and humorless, and cut him off. "Miguel, why don't you just be honest and admit you have feelings for Anna."

"Jessica, what are you talking about? I'm your boyfriend!" She'd hit a nerve and he started to unravel. "Besides, Anna is so far out of my league — saying something like that could ruin her reputation. How can you even think something so vicious?"

"Not anymore."

Jessica spoke before she knew she was going to. Miguel paused. "What?"

"I said, not anymore." She repeated herself, calm and clear. "Miguel, we're done."

"Just because I asked you to give the spot to Anna? You're breaking up over something that small?" His voice dropped, his tone shifting.

The sheer nerve of it almost made her laugh. "Jealous? You think a lot of yourself."

"Then why?"

"Because you're a coward and a liar. You fell for Anna and couldn't say it, so instead you kept defending her under the guise of looking out for me."

He wanted a reason? Fine. She'd give him one.

"You're selfish. You knew you weren't in her league, so you turned around and manipulated me — used me, took everything you could, and then tried to use me as a stepping stone just to get a little closer to her."

"You didn't have the guts to go after her, but you couldn't let go of the fantasy either. And your idea of devotion? It makes me sick."

Her voice was ice. Every word landed like a blade.

If Miguel had fallen for someone else, he could have just told her. She would have walked away clean. But he didn't. Instead, he went behind her back. He set her up. He tried to have her killed.

"Don't ever contact me again." Jessica said it all in one breath, hung up, and deleted every way he had of reaching her.

Miguel stood there, the words still ringing in his ears.

He didn't fully understand what had just happened — but one thing was clear: the person on that call was not the Jessica he knew. Not the quiet, agreeable girl who had never once pushed back.

He tried to call her back. She'd already blocked him.

Jessica hung up feeling like she could breathe again. She had a school selection exam coming up, so she'd already arranged to stop by her professor's house to pick up some key materials.

She caught a cab. They had just turned through an intersection when a black sedan came straight at them — brakes gone, no sign of slowing down.

The driver froze.

Jessica unclipped her seatbelt, grabbed the wheel from his hands, and wrenched it hard. "Brake! Now!"

The driver snapped out of it and slammed the pedal. A split second later, the crash.

In the chaos, Jessica kicked the crumpled door open. She'd turned just in time — the taxi had clipped a utility pole on the side of the road.

The driver was shaken up but only had a few scrapes.

The car that had hit them wasn't so lucky.

Debris scattered across the road. The air reeked of gasoline.

Jessica shook her head to clear it, trying to make sense of why the accident had come so much earlier this time around.

Over a competition spot — were the Whitmores really trying to kill her?

She walked toward the wreck and stopped cold.

The man in the back seat wasn't anyone from the Whitmore family.

It was Damian Sterling — the name that made the entire business world nervous.

What was he doing here?

Jessica had only ever seen Damian once, in her past life, but once was enough to recognize him.

The Sterling family was old money, a dynasty stretching back a century, with holdings across the globe. As the sole heir, Damian's resume was the kind that left people speechless.

At thirteen, he'd founded his own investment firm. At seventeen, he'd stepped into the core management of Sterling Group. By twenty, after taking over the family, he had expanded into healthcare, real estate, finance, tech, and security — controlling more than half of Starlight City's key commercial assets.

Through the shattered window, his features were in full view. He looked like something out of a myth, the kind of face that made you forget to breathe.

The smell of gasoline was getting stronger. Jessica knocked the remaining glass out of the window frame with her foot, hauled Damian out of the car —

And then the explosion hit.

Sparks flew. The wreck was swallowed whole.