Chapter 122: The Coffee Stain and the Cost of Silence

“You think you can get me with that?”

Vanessa’s voice was low, barely a whisper, but it carried more weight than the loud shouting Miriam had just done. She leaned over the counter, her elbows resting on the sticky surface that smelled of old syrup and bleach. Her eyes, dark and hard like pieces of coal, locked onto Miriam’s face.

There was no fear in Vanessa’s eyes. There was no respect. There was only a cold, freezing stare that made Miriam feel like she was naked in the middle of a snowstorm. It was the kind of look you give to a bug before you crush it with your shoe.

Vanessa didn't blink. She didn't look at Miriam’s expensive handbag or the diamond earrings that were catching the greasy light of the diner. She looked right into Miriam’s soul, and she saw the rot there.

Then, Vanessa laughed.

It wasn't a happy laugh. It wasn't the kind of laugh friends share over a joke. It was a cruel, jagged sound. It sounded like metal scraping against concrete. It started deep in her chest and bubbled up, ugly and raw.

“Ha! Hahaha!”

Vanessa threw her head back, exposing her neck, and let the laughter fill the empty diner. It bounced off the tiled walls and the empty booths. It mocked Miriam. It stripped her down.

“You think you can buy me?” Vanessa said, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye with a rough finger. “You think because you have a shiny car outside and a dress that costs more than my life, you can just open your purse and I’ll sing like a bird?”

She leaned in closer, her breath smelling of stale coffee. “You can't pay the money I want, princess. You don't have enough zeros in your bank account to buy what I know. You don't have enough to buy my safety. Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I don't know that people who talk end up like Freddie?”

Miriam flinched at the name. Freddie. The dead man.

But the flinch quickly turned into a scowl. The shame of being laughed at by a waitress, a woman in a dirty apron, was too much. It was like acid in her veins. Miriam Dubois did not get laughed at. She was the one who laughed.

That made Miriam fled up in anger. The heat rose in her cheeks, burning hot and red. She stood up from the stool, her heels clicking sharply on the linoleum floor. She slammed her hand down on the counter.

“Shut up!” Miriam screamed. “Just shut up! Who do you think you are talking to?”

She pointed a manicured finger at Vanessa’s face. Her hand was shaking, not from fear anymore, but from pure, unadulterated rage.

“I am Dubois!” Miriam shouted, her voice cracking. “My family built this city while your family was probably rotting in the gutter! We are royalty in this town! You are nothing! You are a servant! You pour coffee for truck drivers while I dine with kings!”

Miriam was panting now, her chest heaving up and down under her silk coat. She needed to hurt Vanessa. She needed to make this woman feel small so that she could feel big again.

“You can't even touch the feet of a Dubois!” Miriam spat the words out. “You aren't worthy to clean the mud off my shoes! I am offering you a chance to change your pathetic little life, and you laugh at me? You should be on your knees thanking me!”

Vanessa stopped laughing. Her face went blank. For a second, the diner was deadly silent. The only sound was the humming of the refrigerator in the back.

Then, a small, slow smile spread across Vanessa’s face. It was a terrifying smile.

“Royalty?” Vanessa said softly. “ Kings?”

She shook her head, looking at Miriam with pity. “I don't see a queen standing in front of me. I see a desperate little girl with mascara running down her face. I see a woman who got dumped by her man and is now running around the slums begging for scraps.”

Vanessa turned around and picked up a dirty rag. She started wiping the counter again, dismissing Miriam completely.

“Leave my dinner,” Vanessa said, her back to Miriam. “Get out. I’m done with you. I’m not ready to get anything from you. Your money smells like desperation, and I don't want it.”

Miriam stood there, stunned. She had played her biggest card—her family name—and it had bounced off Vanessa like a pebble hitting a tank. She was being kicked out. Again. Just like Ethan had kicked her out. Just like Hannah had walked away.

Panic started to claw at her throat. If she left now, she had nothing. She would go back to her empty penthouse and wait for the wedding invitation of Ethan and Norah. She couldn't let that happen. She needed this information.

Miriam got scared. The anger evaporated, replaced by a frantic need to fix this. She needed to buy her way back into the conversation. Money was the only language she knew that everyone understood.

“A thousand dollars!” Miriam shouted.

She blurted it out. To her, it was a fortune for a waitress. It was a month’s rent. It was a lot of money.

“I will give you one thousand dollars right now! Cash! Just tell me who she is!”

Vanessa froze. Her hand stopped moving on the counter. She turned around slowly. Her eyes were wide, but not with greed. They were wide with insults.

One thousand dollars?

To Vanessa, this wasn't just a low offer. It was a slap in the face. This woman wanted her to risk her life, to risk ending up like Freddie, for a thousand bucks? Did she think Vanessa’s life was that cheap? Did she think the secret of Aria—a secret that involved murdered spies and billionaire heirs—was worth pocket change?

Hearing such an amount, Vanessa seethed her teeth in anger. She ground her jaw so hard she could hear her teeth creaking. Her hands curled into fists at her sides.

“One… thousand?” Vanessa whispered. The air around her seemed to crackle with static electricity.

She looked at the pot of coffee sitting on the burner. It was half-full. It had been sitting there for an hour, boiling, getting thick and dark and bitter. It wasn't scalding hot anymore, but it was warm. And it was dirty.

Vanessa didn't think. She just reacted. She was tired of being looked down on. She was tired of rich people thinking they could buy her soul for pennies.

She reached out and grabbed the glass handle of the coffee pot.

Miriam saw the movement. She saw Vanessa grab the pot. But her brain didn't process what was happening. She thought Vanessa was pouring herself a cup. She thought Vanessa was considering the offer.

“Yes, a thousand,” Miriam said, stepping closer, thinking she had won. “See? I can be gener—”

Vanessa swung her arm.

The liquid flew out of the pot in a dark, brown arc.

It hit Miriam square in the face.

Vanessa grabbed a coffee and emptied it on Miriam's head.

The shock was instantaneous. Miriam gasped, sucking in a breath of coffee-scented air. The liquid drenched her hair instantly, plastering it to her skull. It ran down her forehead, into her eyes, stinging and blinding her. It dripped off her nose and chin. It soaked into the expensive collar of her coat, turning the cream fabric a muddy brown.

“Ahhh!” Miriam wanted to shout, but she couldn't. She sputtered, coughing as the bitter taste hit her tongue. She wiped her eyes frantically, smearing her makeup into a black and brown mess.

She stood there, dripping. The silence in the diner was heavy.

Vanessa slammed the empty pot back onto the burner with a loud clang. She leaned over the counter, her face twisted in a snarl.

“You insult me with that?” Vanessa hissed. “One thousand dollars? Is that what you think I’m worth? Is that what you think your life is worth?”

Miriam opened her eyes, blinking through the sticky liquid. She looked like a drowned rat. The humiliation was total. She was Miriam Dubois, and she was standing in a slum diner covered in old coffee.

Vanessa looked at her with disgust. “If you looked that cheap to me, I would have thrown you out in the garbage an hour ago.”

Vanessa laughed again, but this time it was darker. She leaned closer, staring at Miriam’s ruined clothes.

“Or maybe…” Vanessa said, her voice dropping to a mock whisper. “Maybe you offered me so little because you don't have it? Maybe the great Dubois family isn't so rich anymore?”

“Is that it, princess?” Vanessa taunted. “Is the bank account empty? Is Daddy broke? Is that why you are so desperate to marry Ethan? Because you need a meal ticket?”

The words hit Miriam harder than the coffee. It was exactly what Aria had said outside Solara Heights. “You flirt and mess with Mr. Norman just for his support on your dying family company.”

Everyone knew. The waitress knew. Aria knew. The whole world knew that the Dubois name was a hollow shell, a golden apple that was rotten on the inside.

The rage that exploded in Miriam’s chest was blinding. It burned hotter than the shame. She wasn't broke! She wasn't poor! She still had money! She still had power! She had to prove it. She had to prove to this dirty waitress that she was still a queen.

She didn't care about the cost anymore. She didn't care about savings. She just wanted to shut Vanessa up. She wanted to slap that smug look off her face with a stack of cash so big it would choke her.

Miriam wiped the coffee from her mouth with the back of her hand. She glared at Vanessa with eyes that were red and wild.

She shouted, “Name your price!”

The scream echoed off the walls. It was raw. It was a blank check written in anger.

“Name it!” Miriam screamed again, stomping her foot in a puddle of coffee. “You think I’m broke? You think I can’t pay? Tell me what you want! I will pay anything! Anything to wipe that smile off your face and get what I want!”

Vanessa stopped. She looked at Miriam. She saw the madness in the girl’s eyes. She saw a woman who had been pushed past the edge of reason.

And then, Vanessa started to laugh.

That made Vanessa really laugh too loud. She laughed until her sides hurt. She leaned against the counter for support. It was hilarious. It was pathetic. This girl, dripping wet, smelling like a used coffee filter, screaming about money.

Vanessa stopped laughing slowly. She wiped her mouth. She looked at Miriam. She calculated.

If this girl was crazy enough to pay, maybe Vanessa should make her pay. Maybe Vanessa should take a bite out of that Dubois fortune before it is all gone. Maybe she could use the money to get out of this neighborhood. To get away from the memories of Freddie.

She looked Miriam up and down. She thought of a number. A number that was impossible. A number that was a joke. A number that would make Miriam walk away.

She told Miriam with a soft voice.

“Twenty thousand dollars.”

The room went quiet. Even the hum of the fridge seemed to stop.

Twenty thousand dollars.

It was an insane amount of money for a name. It was a robbery.

Calling that amount scared Vanessa but she didn't care. Her heart skipped a beat when she said it. She expected Miriam to scream. She expected Miriam to call the police. She expected Miriam to laugh in her face and leave. It was a bluff. A massive, dangerous bluff.

Vanessa watched Miriam’s face, waiting for the reaction.

Miriam didn't blink. She didn't flinch. She didn't even look surprised.

To Miriam, twenty thousand dollars was a lot, yes. It was the price of a new car. It was the price of a luxury vacation. But compared to losing Ethan? Compared to being humiliated by Aria for the rest of her life? It was nothing. It was pocket change.

“Okay,” Miriam said.

Her voice was calm. Eerily calm.

Vanessa’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I said okay,” Miriam repeated. She reached into her soggy coat pocket and pulled out her phone. She wiped the coffee off the screen with her thumb. “I will pay.”

Vanessa stood there, stunned. She felt like she had just been punched. She had thrown out a number to hurt Miriam, and Miriam had just swatted it away like a fly. It showed the massive difference between their worlds. To Vanessa, that money was life-changing. To Miriam, it was a transaction fee.

“You’re… you’re serious?” Vanessa stammered, losing her tough composure for a second.

“I don't joke about money,” Miriam said coldly. She tapped on her phone, opening her banking app. Her face was illuminated by the blue light of the screen. She looked like a coffee-stained ghost.

“What’s your account number?” Miriam asked, her thumb hovering over the transfer button.

Vanessa waited for questions from Miriam but got nothing. She expected Miriam to ask for proof. She expected Miriam to ask for a discount.

But Miriam asked nothing. She just wanted the product. She was desperate.

Vanessa swallowed hard. This was happening. She grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. Her hands were shaking slightly as she wrote down her account details. She slid the paper across the counter.

Miriam picked it up. She didn't even look at Vanessa. She typed the numbers into her phone.

“Name on the account?” Miriam asked.

“Vanessa Lewis,” Vanessa said, her voice barely a whisper.

Miriam typed it in.

“Done,” Miriam said. She held up the phone so Vanessa could see. “Ready to send. Twenty thousand dollars.”

Vanessa looked at the screen. The number was there. 20,000.00. It looked like a telephone number.

“Now,” Miriam said, lowering the phone. Her eyes locked onto Vanessa’s. “Tell me. Who is she? What is her real name? Where is she from?”

The anger flared up again in Vanessa’s chest. It was a different kind of anger now. It was resentment. She hated that Miriam could just buy her. She hated that Miriam thought she could snap her fingers and get what she wanted just because she had a bank account.

Vanessa felt like a prostitute selling secrets. It made her feel dirty.

And she saw the look in Miriam’s eyes. It was a look of triumph. Miriam thought she had won. Miriam thought she was the boss again.

“You think you own me now?” Vanessa growled. “You think because you typed some numbers I’m your servant?”

“I think we have a deal,” Miriam said impatiently. “I pay, you talk. That’s how business works. Now talk. Who is she?”

She thought maybe Miriam would get the information and then cancel the transfer. Or maybe Miriam was recording her. Vanessa didn't trust rich people. They always had an angle.

She slammed her hand on the counter.

“You think I’m stupid?” Vanessa shouted. “You think I’m going to tell you everything and then you just walk out the door? No! I want to see the money! I want to see the notification on my phone!”

Miriam rolled her eyes. “I told you, I’m ready to send it. Just speak.”

“Money first!” Vanessa yelled. She was breathing hard. “I don't trust you! I don't trust your family! You left a man to die without making a proper investigation on his death, so why wouldn't you scam a waitress?”

She pointed at the phone in Miriam’s hand.

“Press the button!” Vanessa commanded.

“Tell me the information I need first!” Miriam shouted back.

“No!”

They stared at each other. Two women from different worlds, bound together by hatred for the same person. The air in the diner was thick with tension. The smell of coffee and expensive perfume mixed in a nauseating cloud.

Vanessa leaned over the counter, her face inches from Miriam’s. She looked dangerous. She looked like she might grab the coffee pot again.

“I am not playing games with you, rich girl,” Vanessa hissed. “You want to know who that woman is? You want to know the secret that killed Freddie? You want the weapon to destroy your enemy?”

Miriam nodded, her breath hitching. “Yes.”

Vanessa pointed at the phone screen again. Her finger left a smudge on the glass.

“Then pay the toll,” Vanessa said, her voice dropping to a deadly calm.

She shouted, “Make the transfer now or you get out!”