Jasmine’s legs trembled as she walked toward the door. Her heart was pounding fast, but the loud, impatient knocks only made her nerves worse.

“Patience, please,” she muttered under her breath, her voice sharp with irritation. Whoever it was needed to learn how to knock like a human being, not like they wanted to break her door down.

Still frowning, she grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. The old door creaked open under her weight.

Her eyes widened.

Four men in black suits filled the doorway, standing tall and still like statues. Their faces were blank, without the slightest trace of warmth. Their eyes were cold, and just one look at them sent shivers running down her spine. Her breath hitched as fear tightened her chest.

She swallowed hard. “Who… who are you? What do you want?” Her voice trembled as the words escaped.

One of the men stepped forward. His expression did not change. His voice was flat, heavy, almost mechanical.

“You live here?”

Jasmine blinked quickly, confused. “Yes… I do. Is there a problem?”

“There is.” His tone was as hard as stone. “This particular house is no longer yours. Our boss is taking it in seven days.”

Her mouth fell open. The words hit her so suddenly that she could not even grasp them. “Taking it?” she repeated, her voice breaking. “What do you mean?”

The man’s gaze stayed locked on her, unblinking. “This house was used as collateral. A woman named Carameta signed the papers.”

Her stomach dropped like a stone. Her lips trembled. “Carameta… that’s my mother.”

“Correct. She borrowed eighteen million from our boss. It was to be repaid in two years. She did not pay. Now, with interest, it is twenty million. Four years have passed, and still no payment. So we are taking the house.”

Jasmine staggered back, her hand tightening on the doorframe to stop herself from collapsing. Her head spun, her knees shook violently.

“Twenty million?” she whispered in disbelief. “What could she have possibly used such money for? And why… why would she never tell me?”

Her eyes darted helplessly between their cold faces, searching for some sign that this was a mistake, some hint of compassion. But there was none. The men stood still, their silence heavy and merciless.

“No…” Jasmine shook her head hard, tears stinging her eyes. “No, it’s not possible. My mother would never do this. She would never—”

But the men gave her nothing. No answer, no comfort. Just the cruel weight of their silence.

The number echoed in her head, hammering again and again. Twenty million. Twenty million. She could barely breathe under the weight of it. She was already drowning, struggling to find two million for her mother’s surgery. And now this?

Her hands went to her hair, pulling at it in anguish. Her voice cracked as she cried out, “Where am I supposed to find that kind of money?”

One of the men stepped closer. His tall figure cast a shadow over her small body, swallowing her whole. His words fell like a final blow.

“You have one week. Pay, or move out.”

And without another word, the four men turned and walked away, their footsteps echoing down the hall, each step colder and heavier than the last.

The door slipped from Jasmine’s hand, closing slowly behind them. She slid down against it until she was sitting on the floor, her body shaking, tears streaming down her face.

The house was all she had. Her only shelter. Her mother’s only comfort once she left the hospital. Without it, they would have nothing. They would be thrown into the streets with nowhere to go.

Her chest burned with terror as her mind painted the image of her sick, fragile mother lying in the cold, with no roof above her head. The thought crushed her soul.

“Even if I work every second of my life, I can never make twenty million,” she whispered through her sobs. Her voice cracked, broken and hopeless.

But she knew crying would solve nothing. With trembling hands, she wiped her face roughly, forcing herself to stop. Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet.

*****

At the restaurant, Jasmine forced a smile onto her lips, though it felt heavy and false. Inside, her heart was breaking into pieces, but she had no choice. Customers expected warmth. Her boss expected cheer. She had to keep her face bright, even if her soul was drowning.

“Smile, Jasmine,” she whispered under her breath, forcing her lips to curl upward. “Everything will be fine.” She repeated the lie to herself for what felt like the hundredth time.

Taking in a deep breath, she pushed open the glass door and stepped forward to greet the first guest. “Good morning, welcome—”

Her words stopped short.

Right in front of her stood a man she recognized at once. She had seen him the night before, standing beside Martin Roberts. It had only been for a fleeting moment, but his sharp face had stayed in her mind.

Her fake smile slipped away. Blood rushed hot into her cheeks. She stammered, trying to hold herself together. “Good morning. What… what would you like to order?”

The man grinned, looking around the restaurant as if it were his own living room. “I am Jason,” he said smoothly, his tone relaxed. “Assistant to Martin Roberts.”

He stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate, almost arrogant. His grin was easy—too easy. “I came to see the woman who has somehow caught my boss’s attention. How are you, Jasmine?”

His cologne filled the air, strong and rich, almost suffocating. The smell of it made Jasmine’s stomach turn. Bitter thoughts filled her mind. That perfume alone probably costs more than my mother’s surgery.

Her hands curled into fists at her side. Her jaw tightened. “What do you want?” she asked sharply.

Jason tilted his head, his eyes narrowing with a sly look. “I want to know how your mother is doing. Any change?”

Jasmine’s heart stopped. She froze, her breath catching in her throat. “How… how do you know my mother is sick? And what do you even want with me?”

Jason chuckled softly, as if amused by her fear. “Have you forgotten who my boss is? He can find out anything he wants, in minutes.”

Jasmine swallowed hard. Her chest rose and fell quickly with anger and fear. “You should not be here,” she said firmly. “You have no business with me. And I am sure your boss does not either.”

Jason smirked, shaking his head. “You’re wrong.”

Before she could respond, he leaned closer. His warm breath brushed her ear, and his voice dropped to a low whisper. “Did the loan sharks come to you this morning?”

Her eyes widened. Her blood turned cold. “What?” Her voice broke into pieces. “You… you know about that?”

His grin widened, darker now, his teeth flashing. “Know?” He straightened slowly, looking down at her. “Jasmine, my boss owns the company. Your mother borrowed from him.”

Her world cracked apart at his words. She stumbled back, nearly knocking into a chair. Her lips trembled as she struggled to form words.

Jason slipped a card onto the table beside her. His voice was calm but sharp, cutting like glass. “My boss would like to meet with you.”

Jasmine’s eyes widened in alarm. Anger surged through her veins, burning hot. “And why would I ever meet him?”

Jason chuckled again, unfazed. “You’ll know when you get there.”

Her hands shook as she lifted her chin. “Then tell your boss I do not want to meet him.”

Jason’s grin returned, cruel this time. “I’m sure you heard me clearly when I said he owns the loan company. Your mother owes him twenty million. Do you really want to lose your house? Do you want to lose her?”

Jasmine froze, her lips pressed shut, her throat burning with the urge to scream. But no words came out.

Jason smirked, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. “You know what to do when you’re ready.”

He turned and strolled out casually, his hands stuffed in his pockets, leaving a trail of silence behind him.

Jasmine stood rooted to the floor, her whole body shaking. Her eyes dropped to the small card on the table. She picked it up with trembling fingers. Her tears blurred the letters on it, but she did not bother to wipe them away.