The hot coffee splashed across Ivan's face, but instead of anger, sheer panic overtook him.
He scrambled down, clutching the legs of the middle-aged woman before him.
"Grace, please—listen to me, let me explain!"
"Explain what? I saw it with my own eyes, I heard it with my own ears. What else is there to explain?"
Grace gripped Ivan's jaw tightly and slapped him twice, sharp and stinging, not playful at all. Her hand cracked against his cheek with the cold authority of someone disciplining a wayward child. Ivan's face flushed red instantly.
"I swear, I only treat her like a little sister. There's nothing between us—no touching, no feelings. Nothing!"
Grace sneered, her voice laced with contempt.
"A little sister? Do you take me for a fool? She gave you a whole jar of paper cranes, and you're telling me there's no hidden meaning? Men and women meeting up alone—everyone knows what that leads to. If I hadn't walked in, what, would you two have gone off to a hotel next?"
Ivan shook his head violently, like a rattle about to break.
"No! Never! Grace, I swear, I only have you in my heart. Only you!"
At the side, Quinn sat frozen, coffee dripping down her hair and shoulders. She didn't even think to wipe it away. Her entire worldview was shattering before her eyes.
She had once thought Ivan so polished, so untouchable—handsome, refined, elegant, the picture of a prince. Even when she arrived this morning, she thought maybe he was just going through a hard time. Maybe the breakup with Olivia had left him hollow, and he needed encouragement.
Never in her worst imagination had she pictured this: Ivan on his knees, groveling before a woman nearly twenty years older, clearly being… kept. And worse, flattering her while being slapped in public.
It was disgusting. A face she had once admired now twisted into something pathetic.
Grace wasn't finished. She tugged Ivan's chin up and slapped him again.
"Don't bother denying it. I heard everything. The way you praised her, your voice soft and sweet—I know you. Did you think I just happened to show up at the right moment? I was outside the door, listening to your whole conversation."
Ivan's body stiffened. His eyes darted to his wristwatch and then to the chain at his neck. Realization struck him.
Grace smirked coldly.
"That's right. I had you bugged. You're quick—still not completely stupid. But tell me, do you have any right to object?"
For most people, the violation would've been intolerable. But Ivan? He shook his head furiously, plastering on a smile that made Quinn's stomach turn.
"No, no objections at all, Grace. You can put a bug on me anytime you want. I'll even send you reports myself if that's what you want."
Grace rolled her eyes.
"Reports? Pathetic. Do you think you're so irreplaceable? You're not the only pretty face in this country. If you can't behave, I'll throw you out and buy another one who can. Why should I risk you running around and bringing back God knows what? As for the debts you've piled up… those are on you."
Ivan's face went white. He dropped to his knees again with a thud.
"Grace, no—please, believe me! I've never touched her. I admit, yes, I lied. I knew she liked me back in college. I saw it in her eyes. But that was all! I only ever enjoyed the attention, the feeling of being admired. I already had a girlfriend then—how would I have dared to cross that line?"
He pointed desperately toward Quinn.
"This time, I just wanted to meet her, to get back a little confidence. That's all! Look at our messages, it's no different than chatting with a brother."
Quinn's breath caught, her pupils tightening.
He knew. He had known all along that she liked him in college?
Her stomach lurched, and the glass jar of cranes on the table suddenly felt like the heaviest thing in the world.
Quinn's chest tightened.
So that was it? He had asked her out just to bask in her old feelings for him, just to stroke his own ego?
What did he think of her?
She looked up, and for the first time, Ivan seemed like a stranger. Or maybe, she thought bitterly, this was the real him all along—and she had only been seeing him through a filter.
Just then, Ivan scrambled to pull out his phone, opening a group chat. He shoved it toward Grace as if desperate to prove his loyalty.
From where Quinn sat, she could barely glimpse the screen—but it was enough. Her whole body trembled violently at what she read.
At the top were Ivan's so-called friends joking, and then his own words, bragging in return:
"I'm just at a low point right now, but I'll bounce back soon. Olivia dumped me—she'll regret it sooner or later.""Honestly, I could find someone prettier in minutes. Back in college, tons of girls liked me. I never touched them because Olivia was sharp. Her family had connections that helped my career, and that was useful.""Looking back, I regret it. Olivia was too plain—because of her, I missed out on so many other girls.""Don't believe me? Watch me line one up right now. Wait till you see your boy's strength.""She's gorgeous, first-class, but I have to keep some bullets saved for Grace, you know what I mean."
Beneath the texts was a photo—Quinn stepping into the café just that morning. And worse, a recording followed: their entire conversation, including the moment Quinn had shyly handed Ivan the jar of paper cranes she'd folded years ago.
The group chat was filled with his friends' laughter and praise: "Damn, she's beautiful. She's totally into you, bro."
Grace read everything, her anger cooling into a razor's edge.
"So you still have some guts, showing off like that."
Quinn felt the blood drain from her face. Her stomach churned, her heart twisting. He had taken her secret admiration—her youthful crush—and turned it into a cheap party trick, a way to score points in a group chat.
So in Ivan's eyes, she was nothing more than a silly girl to be played with?
Her tears came all at once, spilling hot down her cheeks. She tried to wipe away the coffee that had dried sticky on her skin, but her trembling hands couldn't stop the tears. Choking back a sob, she stood abruptly.
"I'm leaving," she whispered.
But before she could take a step, Grace's hand shot out, fisting in Quinn's hair, yanking her back down into the chair.
Grace (shouting): "Leave? After seducing someone else's man, you think you can just walk away?"
She turned to the crowd that had gathered, her voice sharp and mocking.
"Look here, everyone! This is the so-called mistress—see how she bats her eyes and plays innocent, like she was born to tempt men."
The café was already buzzing with whispers, but now the room turned hostile. People pointed, murmuring, some sneering outright.
Humiliation crashed over Quinn like a wave. Her heart throbbed with sadness, injustice, and despair. Tears blurred her vision until the faces around her were just smudges.
"I'm not… I have nothing to do with him. I only came here today to encourage him—to tell him he should reconcile with Olivia. That's all. Please… just let me go. I'll never see him again."
But Grace only tightened her grip, cruel amusement flickering in her eyes.
She turned to Ivan.
"Well? Does this make you feel bad for her?"
Ivan's face twisted, his voice frantic.
"No, no, Grace—I only feel sorry for you. Only you."
And then, to prove his words, he snatched up another cup of coffee and flung it into Quinn's face.
The hot liquid splattered against her skin, dripping down her hair, soaking her blouse.
Quinn froze. Her breath caught in her throat, her mind blank.
Her tears mingled with the coffee until she couldn't tell which was which. She sat there in silence, stunned, broken, her heart collapsing in on itself.
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