The smell of espresso had always been a comfort.
Warm. Bitter. Familiar.
It had seen Sera through exam weeks, heartbreaks, double shifts, and that one horrible winter when her heater gave out, and she basically lived off cafe warmth and leftover croissants.
Now, it turned her stomach.
"Eric," Sera repeated, voice cracking as she stared at her manager. "Tell me you're joking." She stood frozen, the weight of her apron still clutched in one hand. Her heart was pounding in disbelief.
The middle-aged man didn't even meet her eyes. His fingers drummed on the polished wooden counter of Cafe Blume—her second home for the past two years.
Eric stood behind the counter like he wasn't the same man who used to sneak her cinnamon rolls after closing. Like they hadn't shared two years of inside jokes, quiet chats during lulls, and panicked moments during the morning rush.
His hands were folded tight. His eyes full of apology but not enough to do anything about it.
"I'm sorry, Sera," Eric muttered. "I didn't have a choice." he finally said, eyes flicking up with guilt she could tell he didn't want to feel.
"You always have a choice," Sera snapped, her voice loud enough to startle a couple of customers by the window. "What exactly did I do?"
Eric hesitated. "A customer lodged a complaint."
"What kind of complaint?" she asked, voice rising, nerves fraying. "I've never misbehaved with anyone. You know that!"
"He said you were rude, aggressive."
"I'm rude every Monday morning to the guy who asks for a triple shot with almond foam and no eye contact," she said, sarcasm a poor shield for the tremble in her voice. "That's half our regulars. Which one?"
"He's… influential." Eric stuttered, then lowered his voice. "Too powerful. I don't know who exactly. All I know is the complaint went above me. I was told if I didn't handle it, my job would be at risk."
Sera blinked, something ice-cold sank in her stomach. "So you fired me. You threw me under the bus instead?
"You think I want to do this?" Eric winced and then his voice softened again. "Look, I've been good to you. This place.."
"This place was everything to me!" she interrupted, fists shaking. "I've worked here every damn day, gave it everything, and this is how it ends? No warning? No chance to even explain?"
"I had to.."
"You fired me," she repeated. Her throat tightened. "Eric, this job… it's all I've got."
Eric looked away.
Rent. Student loan. Groceries.
Everything was balanced on the knife-edge of this paycheque. Sera was barely keeping it together with the cafe. Without it? Her world tipped.
"I've worked here for two years," she said, voice wobbling. "I gave up holidays, covered night shifts. I care about this place."
"I know," Eric whispered under his breath. "I know, Sera. But I can't fight people like him."
Sera stared at him. She stood there a moment longer, the air thick with the ghost of espresso and betrayal.
Without a word, she turned and took off the apron. Then slowly, numbly, she turned and walked out.
The bell above the door jingled cheerfully behind her.
Sera didn't make it far. Outside, the sun was too bright. It made everything feel rawer than it already was.
She dropped onto the curb like her knees had given up. They probably had. And that's when the first tear slipped. Then the second.
They wouldn't stop. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she tried to remember how to breathe.
Sera tried to cover her face with her scarf, but the sob caught in her throat like a betrayal. It clawed out of her, loud, ugly and real.
She was so tired of this city chewing her up. Of working her ass off just to be disposable. Of men in suits pulling strings like her life was a game board. Of never being enough.
Sera had done everything right. She had worked hard, paid her dues and still, the world made her beg.
People walked past her—some giving her a glance, most ignoring her entirely. It felt like drowning in a crowd.
Sera had nothing now. No job. No income. No backup plan. And no one to turn to.
Her phone buzzed in her jacket's pocket. She almost ignored it, thinking it was another spam call or a morning text from Lily. Almost threw it into the road like a dramatic movie scene.
But the screen lit up with one notification. Her habit made her swipe it open.
1 new message. From Evander Thorne Ashford
Her eyes narrowed. She tapped.
"Sign the contract."
Sera stared at the message, heart thudding. The pieces slid into place all at once. Everything made sense. The timing, the vague "influential" man, the one who had the power to push Eric. The one who always got what he wanted.
Evander.
The rage was instant.
Evander.
"You unbelievable bastard," Sera shouted out loud to no one. The anger shook her aggressively.. He had done this. He'd cornered her like a pawn on a chessboard, then swept her only livelihood out from under her just to force her hand.
So she would take his offer and sign his damn contract.
Sera stood abruptly, fists clenched, tears drying into salt on her skin.
She called him.
The line rang once. Then, "Sera." His voice was cool, nonchalance.
It only made her angrier. "You got me fired," she burst into rage. "You cost me my job."
"I told you," he replied. "You're wasting time at that cafe. It was going to collapse eventually," he said coolly. "I simply expedited the inevitable."
She let out a broken laugh, bitter and breathless. "Do you even hear yourself? You think this is a game?"
"No," he said. "I think this is survival. You need money. I need an heir. We both get what we want."
"You're a manipulative asshole."
Evander didn't respond.
"Do you get off on pulling strings like this?" Sera snapped. "Making me desperate so I'll say yes?"
"You were always going to say yes," he said, almost playfully.
That stopped her. For a second. Then her voice turned to ice. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know you're behind on rent. I know your student loan payments start in two months. I know you've been skipping meals. You need the contract." Those words were like a slap to her. "I'm offering survival. What you do with your pride is up to you."
Her throat burned. "You don't get it. I needed that job to live. I was managing, even if barely. And now you've turned me into some desperate woman who has no choice but to sign away her life to you."
There was a pause on the line. For a second, Sera almost thought she heard guilt in the silence.
"I told you from the start," Evander cleared his throat, "this isn't personal."
Sera's fingers trembled around her phone. "Well, it is to me."
And she hung up.
Sera sat there for the longest time, phone on her lap, the screen now black. The cold wind bit at her skin, but she didn't move.
In the span of a few hours, everything had changed. She trembled from the sheer audacity of what just happened.
The job was gone. Her options were shrinking because rent didn't wait, loan sharks didn't pause and pride didn't pay bills.
But right now, just for a moment..Sera let herself cry. Big, ugly sobs that she hadn't allowed herself in years.
She cried for the job she lost, the independence she prided herself on, and the cruel truth that she was now tied to a man who didn't even see her as a person...just another deal.
But one thing was very, very clear.
Evander had waged a war against her.