Perfect—I und
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The first person Shane ever disappointed was his mother.
Kiara didn't know that yet—but she felt it the moment the black sedan stopped in front of Torres Brew.
She was behind the counter, staring at the FINAL NOTICE again, when the shop door opened and the bell rang with a sharp, unfamiliar urgency.
Three people walked in.
They did not look like customers.
The woman in front wore quiet authority the way others wore perfume—subtle, expensive, unmistakable. Her hair was pulled into a neat chignon, her posture flawless. Behind her stood a man in his early sixties, reserved and observant, and a younger woman whose expression was polite but distant.
Shane froze.
"Mother," he said.
Kiara's breath caught.
So this was family.
Mrs. Benson's eyes moved slowly around the shop, taking in the worn tables, the handwritten menu, the scent of roasted coffee beans. When her gaze landed on Kiara, it sharpened—not unkind, but assessing.
"So this is the place," she said.
Not your place.
The place.
"This isn't a good time," Shane said evenly.
"There's never a good time," his father replied calmly. "That's why we came."
The shop suddenly felt too small.
Kiara stepped forward. "Can I—"
"You must be Kiara," Mrs. Benson interrupted, offering a thin smile. "We've heard quite a bit about you."
Kiara didn't like the way that sentence felt.
Before she could respond, another voice cut through the tension.
"Wow," a man said cheerfully, stepping inside with a woman beside him. "This place smells like heaven."
Lucas.
Tall, relaxed, dressed like someone who didn't care much for first impressions. His arm brushed lightly against the woman next to him—Lisa—who was already smiling warmly at Kiara.
"We were told this was the best coffee in the city," Lisa said. "And judging by the tension, also the most dramatic."
Lucas grinned. "Are we interrupting a family standoff?"
Mrs. Benson turned slowly. "And you are?"
"Lucas," he said easily. "Old friend of Shane's. Unfortunately."
Lisa laughed. "And I'm Lisa. Even older friend."
Shane exhaled under his breath. "You two have terrible timing."
"We have perfect timing," Lucas corrected. "You look like you need witnesses."
Kiara blinked.
Witnesses?
Mrs. Benson's expression cooled. "This is a private matter."
Lucas leaned casually against the counter. "Not if it's happening in someone else's shop."
Something shifted.
Lisa moved closer to Kiara, her voice gentle. "You okay?"
The question startled her.
No one had asked her that yet.
"I—" Kiara hesitated, then nodded. "I think so."
Lisa smiled, genuine and warm. "Good. Then we'll stay."
Mrs. Benson looked displeased. "Shane, we came to discuss your involvement here. Your company is under scrutiny. Your name is already circulating."
"And?" Shane replied.
"And you're risking everything for a situation that is… unstable," his mother said, glancing at the eviction notice on the counter.
Kiara stiffened.
Lisa noticed.
"That doesn't make her disposable," Lisa said quietly.
Mrs. Benson turned to her. "Excuse me?"
"She's a person," Lisa continued. "Not a headline."
Lucas nodded. "And Shane's been making his own choices since he was seventeen. You taught him that."
Silence followed.
Mrs. Benson studied Shane, disappointment flickering beneath her composure. "You always had a savior complex."
"No," Shane said calmly. "I have boundaries. I haven't crossed them."
Kiara looked at him then—really looked.
He was standing alone, facing his family, his reputation, his world.
And he wasn't asking her to save him.
That mattered.
"I didn't ask for his help," Kiara said suddenly.
All eyes turned to her.
"I didn't ask for money. Or protection. Or influence," she continued, voice steady despite the pounding in her chest. "I'm trying to survive something that existed before he walked in."
Mrs. Benson regarded her for a long moment.
"You're proud," she said finally.
"Yes," Kiara replied. "And tired."
Something softened—just slightly.
"We'll speak later," Mrs. Benson said to Shane. "This isn't finished."
"I know," he replied.
They left as sharply as they arrived.
The shop exhaled.
Lucas let out a low whistle. "Wow. That was intense. Ten out of ten. Would interrupt again."
Lisa laughed, then turned to Kiara. "You handled that beautifully."
Kiara swallowed. "I didn't fall apart."
"That's a skill," Lisa said. "One we respect."
For the first time in days, Kiara felt something unfamiliar.
Not pressure.
Not fear.
Presence.
"Do you want coffee?" she asked quietly.
Lucas beamed. "See? Friendship already."
As Kiara worked the machine, Lisa leaned closer. "You don't have to do this alone," she said softly. "Whatever this is."
Kiara looked up.
She didn't answer.
But for the first time since the notice arrived, the shop didn't feel like it was closing in.
It felt… occupied.
And maybe—just maybe—that was how survival began.
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