---- Chapter 13 Almeda Hughes POV: The restaurant was my fortress. For the next few weeks, | threw myself into the grand opening, working eighteen-hour days, losing myself in the rhythm of chopping, sautéing, and plating. It was a welcome distraction. But they didn't disappear. Jacob started showing up every day after school. His driver would drop him off, and he would sit at a small table in the corner, doing his homework and ordering the same grilled cheese sandwich. He never tried to talk to me in the kitchen, but | would catch him watching me through the pass-through window, his expression sad and hopeful. He was quiet, polite to the staff, and always cleared his own plate. He was a perfect, heartbreakingly well-behaved little ghost. Hector was more subtle. He never came inside. He would wait in his car across the street to pick Jacob up. Sometimes, |' d glance out the window and see him just sitting there, watching the restaurant, watching me. His presence was a silent, unnerving weight. One evening, Sarah caught me staring out at Hector's car. "That poor kid," she said, nodding towards Jacob's corner ---- table. "And that man... he looks like he's lost his soul." She paused. "You're not going to go back, are you?" "Never," | said, my voice firm. "| don't love them, Sarah." She patted my arm. "Good. You've built something wonderful here. Don't let anyone take it from you." | thought that was the end of it. | thought they would eventually tire of this silent siege and leave me in peace. | was wrong. One busy Friday night, chaos erupted in the dining room. | heard a woman's scream, followed by the sound of shattering glass. | rushed out of the kitchen to find Helene Rojas standing in the middle of my restaurant, flanked by two large men who looked like hired thugs. She had swept a tray of glasses off a nearby table and was pointing a trembling, accusatory finger at me. "There she is!" Helene shrieked, her face a mask of theatrical rage. "The woman who stole my life! The woman who is trying to ruin Hector!" The restaurant fell silent. Every patron was staring. "Helene," | said, my voice dangerously calm. "Get out of my restaurant." She laughed, a high, unhinged sound. "Not until you agree to leave Hector alone! He belongs to me! We were happy until ---- you came back and filled his head with lies!" She reached into her purse and pulled out a checkbook, scribbling furiously. She tore out the check and threw it at my feet. "Here! Take this. It's more than a nobody like you deserves. Now sign the divorce papers and disappear!" | looked down at the check. It was for fifty thousand dollars. An insult. | didn't bend to pick it up. | let it lie there on the floor like the trash it was. "First of all," | said, my voice cutting through the silence, "my time is worth a hell of a lot more than that. And second, | want this divorce more than you can possibly imagine. The person you need to convince is Hector." Her face contorted with fury. "You liar! You're just trying to hold on to him for his money!" She lunged at me, her hand raised to strike. | was a chef. My reflexes were sharp from years of handling hot pans and sharp knives. | sidestepped her easily and grabbed her wrist, stopping her slap mid-air. The entire restaurant gasped. Helene, humiliated and enraged, lost all control. "You want to play rough?" she spat, her voice a venomous hiss. She turned to her thugs. "Smash this place. Smash it all." ---- The two men looked at each other, then started towards the bar. My patrons screamed and scrambled for the exits. Sarah rushed to the phone to call the police. "Don't bother, Sarah," | said, my voice surprisingly steady. | pulled out my own phone, my eyes never leaving Helene's. "I've got this handled." Helene smirked, thinking | was bluffing. "Who are you going to call? Your mommy?" | pressed a single button on my speed dial. As the phone rang, | spoke, my voice loud enough for the whole room to hear. "Hello, Hector? You have about thirty seconds to get over here before the woman you've been sleeping with demolishes the restaurant | built with my own two hands. And when she does, | will not only sue her for every penny she has, but | will make it my life's mission to ensure you never see your son again." Helene's face went white. The two thugs froze in place. Across the street, the door of Hector's car flew open. He emerged, his phone pressed to his ear, his face a thunderous mask of absolute fury. He strode across the street and burst through the doors of my restaurant like a storm. His cold, furious gaze landed on Helene. "What," he said, his voice a low, terrifying growl, "do you think you are doing?" ---- Helene crumpled to the floor, her bravado vanishing in an instant. "Hector..." she whimpered. "She's lying to you... she's trying to..." "She isn't lying," he cut her off, his voice like ice. "Because | just fired your two associates over there. And as of this moment, you are no longer my employee. Or anything else to me. He turned to me, his eyes filled with a desperate, pleading look. "Almeda, | am so sorry. | will pay for everything. I'll fix this." | didn't even look at him. | walked over to the whimpering heap on the floor that was Helene Rojas. "The police are on their way," | said calmly. "But before they get here, you and | have a score to settle." | pulled back my hand and slapped her, hard, across the face. The sound echoed in the silent, wrecked room. Then | did it again. And again. Ten times, one for every ounce of pain she had caused me, for every sleepless night, for every whispered insult. When | was done, she was a sobbing, red-faced mess. | looked at my stinging hand, then back at Hector. "Now," | said, my voice cold and final. "We can talk about the divorce."