Chapter 5
Sebastian was always so calm, thinking money could make any problem disappear.
I brought up wanting to get a job, but he refused.
He said all I needed to do was spend time with both our parents.
I tried to get a job, but got a termination notice on my second day.
The boss was practically groveling, saying his company was too small to accommodate someone of my status.
I knew Sebastian was behind it.
He never once showed me any respect.
It felt like every bit of respect he had was saved for Kara.
He loved how Kara chased her dreams, but when it came to me, he just crushed my spirit and held me back.
Now, Sebastian finally got what he'd been waiting for. Kara had returned.
Three months ago, Kara gave her final performance with the Aurivane City Ballet and told the media she was heading home to further her career.
That was the first time I'd ever seen Sebastian lose control.
He knocked over his coffee cup, and for someone so meticulous about cleanliness, he just let the coffee stains soak into his clothes, sitting there motionless, as if his soul had left his body.
After that, he shut himself in his study and didn't come out until nightfall.
Who knew he could actually feel something?
I used to think all those emotions—joy, anger, sadness, happiness—were just things regular people had, not him.
He was not really cold; he just saved his warmth for someone else, never for me.
After that, Sebastian barely showed up at home anymore.
The only way I knew what he was doing was through headlines about Kara.
Tonight was Kara's first night back home.
Right outside the Burton Group building, someone launched a drone.
I couldn't help but laugh.
Why wait for him to dump me and turn me into a cast-off rich wife? I'd rather make the first move.
The phone rang again.
I snapped back to reality. It was Maisy calling.
Maisy Russell was my store manager.
I knew I couldn't just sit back and let life pass me by, so I quietly opened a curated lifestyle studio.
I named it the Ivory Salon.
It was about reclaiming forgotten moments.
It was about rediscovering the parts of ourselves we'd lost.
By appointment only and exclusive to members, the Ivory Salon featured high-end coffee, antique collections, jewelry displays, and custom couture and jewelry.
We partnered with renowned designers and artisans preserving heritage techniques.
At first, it was because Sebastian kept showering me with gifts, and with all the things I'd collected over the years, I just couldn't be bothered to build more cabinets at home to display them.
Besides, they were just gathering dust at home, cold and meaningless. I couldn't sell them, so I figured I might as well put them to better use and let them see the light of day.
After a year, the Ivory Salon had become the go-to spot for the city's elite wives to gather for afternoon tea.
From time to time, we organized elegant little gatherings for them—art, crafts, and other leisurely activities—to bring some charm and variety to their otherwise mundane lives.
With its beautiful setting, strict privacy, and absolute discretion, the Ivory Salon had earned the trust of these ladies. Whenever they needed to hold important meetings or private discussions, this was where they'd come.
Now, the Ivory Salon wasn't just a space anymore. It had become a high-end networking hub, where these wealthy women could share resources and exchange favors or assets.
I never told anyone about it, This was my secret backup plan, my escape route if everything went south.
I picked up the phone. "Hey, Maisy, what's up?"
Maisy's voice was bubbling with excitement. "Estrella, the new coffee beans are almost ready. The owner of Mohridge called and invited us to visit.
"Would you like to go? I think it's a great idea. If we come back and tell the ladies we made the coffee ourselves, they'll be fighting over it."
Maisy was always quick-witted and full of energy.
Honestly, it was because of Maisy that I truly fell for Sebastian.
*****
Maisy came from the mountains, and her family had it rough. Years ago, her dad broke his leg working construction and couldn't work anymore.
Her mom was an uneducated rural woman. Farming was all she knew, and that barely kept them afloat. They survived on welfare, always just scraping by.
But Maisy never gave up. She managed to get into her dream college and leave her old life behind.
I met her at a private club.
She was working there part-time during the holidays to make ends meet.
When I saw her, she was trapped in a corner by some guy.
He was drunk, getting handsy, making lewd comments and trying to grope her.
His filthy words made my skin crawl.
Her eyes were red with tears.
There was no way she could fight back—just from his expensive suit, you could tell he was someone she couldn't afford to offend.
All she could do was beg, "Sir, please, don't do this. I'm just a student. I'm only here for a part-time job."
The man's eyes were glazed over. "Student, huh? That's just my type."
I stopped in my tracks.
Right beside me was a serving cart, with a couple of empty bottles lying around.