Chapter 2 - The Illusion of the King
Meanwhile,
at a high-end French bistro across town,
Jasper was enjoying the finest bottle of wine on the menu.
He sat at the head of the table,
beaming as his mother,
Gillian,
complained about the quality of the bread.
"I really don't understand why Hailey had to be so dramatic,"
Gillian said,
adjusting her faux-fur wrap.
"A C-section is a standard procedure these days."
"She acted like she was the first woman to ever give birth."
Jasper laughed,
leaning back in his chair with an air of unearned importance.
"She’s just sensitive,
Mother,"
he replied,
checking his gold watch—another gift from Hailey’s "modest" father.
"She’ll be home by now,
probably making dinner and nursing the baby."
"She knows her place."
Priscilla,
Jasper’s sister,
scoffed as she scrolled through her phone.
"I hope she cleaned the guest room,"
she said.
"I'm staying for the week,
and I expect fresh linens."
Jasper nodded,
his mind already on the meeting scheduled for the next morning.
He had been courting a group of elite investors for months,
men who represented the legendary Robertson Global.
If they signed the deal,
his tech startup would be valued at over five hundred million dollars.
He felt untouchable.
He felt like he had finally outgrown the "contractor’s daughter" he had married.
"You know,"
Jasper said,
pouring more wine,
"Hailey’s father offered to help me with the business once."
"A retired contractor!"
"Can you imagine?"
"What would he know about high-level technology and global scaling?"
The table erupted in laughter.
They spent the afternoon discussing how they would spend Jasper’s future fortune.
Gillian wanted a villa in Italy.
Priscilla wanted a penthouse in Soho.
Jasper wanted to trade in Hailey’s SUV for a custom Italian sports car.
He never once checked his phone to see if Hailey had made it home.
He never once wondered if his son was hungry or if his wife was in pain.
In his mind,
Hailey was a permanent fixture of his life,
a reliable piece of furniture that would always be there when he returned.
When they finally finished lunch,
Jasper drove the luxury SUV back to their apartment.
He walked through the door expecting to hear the baby crying or to see Hailey in the kitchen.
Instead,
the apartment was silent.
The lights were off.
The air felt cold and strangely empty.
"Hailey?"
he called out,
his voice echoing.
He walked into the bedroom,
expecting to find her resting.
The bed was perfectly made.
Her closet doors were standing open.
Every single one of her clothes was gone.
The nursery,
which had been filled with expensive toys and hand-painted murals,
was stripped bare.
The only thing left in the entire room was a single,
crumpled bus transfer sitting on the center of the changing table.
Jasper frowned,
a small flicker of annoyance crossing his face.
"She’s probably just at her father's place,"
he muttered to himself.
"She’ll be back tomorrow once she realizes I'm not coming to fetch her."
He didn't realize that the man he had mocked over lunch was currently holding a file that contained every secret,
May you like
every debt,
and every lie Jasper had ever told.
