All Chapters of Claiming What's Mine: A Billionaire Romance: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The envelope tucked safely in my pocket wasn’t just money; it was acknowledgment. A sign that someone had noticed me—not for my struggles or the weight I carried, but for the effort I put into my work. For the person I was trying so hard to be.As I walked home that night, the noise of the bustling streets faded into the background. My thoughts were consumed by the memory of the man at table seven. He had no reason to go out of his way for me, yet he did. It was such a simple gesture, yet it held so much meaning.For weeks, I’d been surviving, moving through each day like a machine, doing what I had to without question or pause. But tonight, something had shifted. That flicker of hope, fragile as it was, reminded me that my life didn’t have to be defined by hardship aloneI felt a deep sense of relief and gratitude as I handed over the payment for my mother’s upcoming operation. The tip I received from that man—whoever he was—had made all the difference. For the first time in a while,

The sounds of clattering plates, sizzling pans, and the steady hum of voices kept me focused.For a brief moment, I stole a glance at the clock. Hours had passed, and I could feel my energy beginning to wane, but I couldn’t stop. Not now. The team needed me, and more than that, I needed them."Kirsten, we don’t have enough staff to handle the delivery to Rockwell! What should we do?" Jason shouted, his voice laced with panic.I paused for a moment, letting the weight of his words sink in. The tiredness from the day was starting to catch up with me, but I didn’t let it show. I had a job to do, and complaining wasn’t an option. Deep down, I knew I had to push through. I hadn’t even had time to eat lunch, surviving on just a cup of coffee this morning. Maybe that was why I was feeling this drained. But giving up wasn’t in me. Not now, not ever.Sighing, I wiped my hands on my apron, trying to ignore the faint dizziness creeping in. "I’ll do it," I said, more firmly than I felt. "I’ll han

I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. My mind was too full of the image of my mother—her worried face, her frail hands reaching for me, calling my name in the silence of the night, and I wasn’t there.I should’ve been there.I should’ve stayed.But now... now I had lost her. And I didn’t know how to live with that.The tears kept coming, relentless, but it didn’t change anything. She was gone. My mother was gone, and I had nothing left but this crushing emptiness. And the painful knowledge that I could never go back and make it right.I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, lost in the chaos of my emotions, but I could feel the numbness creeping in. As if my heart had been torn from me, and all I had left was the hollow ache of what could never be again."W-Where's my mom...?" I asked weakly, my voice barely above a whisper as I looked around, still disoriented from the shock and pain that weighed heavily on me. My chest ached, and every part of my body felt as though it was being held

Maybe she’d seen this kind of grief too many times, or maybe she knew that words wouldn’t help. Either way, she moved on, leaving me alone with my pain.In the quiet moments between my sobs, I could hear the faint hum of the hospital—footsteps, distant conversations, the beeping of monitors. Life was continuing around me, indifferent to my loss. The world hadn’t stopped, even though mine had crumbled to dust.As I sat there, crumpled against the cold hospital wall, lost in the depths of my grief, a shadow fell over me. A presence—steady and strong—lowered itself to my level. I looked up, my tear-filled eyes struggling to focus, and then I saw it. A familiar feathered pin attached to the lapel of a tailored coat.My mind raced, trying to place where I had seen it before. And then it hit me. A rush of recognition coursed through me, and my breath caught in my throat. It was him. The man who had caught me when I fainted at the Rockwell company. The one who had steadied me when I was at m

I hesitated for a moment, still unsure of the whirlwind events that had just taken place. But as I looked up at him, I couldn’t help but notice the genuine kindness in his eyes. This wasn’t just some random act of charity; it felt... personal."Vincent," I repeated softly, letting the name roll off my tongue. It felt powerful, commanding, but also... warm.He smiled and handed me a sleek black calling card. It had his name in elegant, gold-embossed letters along with a number and an email address. I took it carefully, feeling the weight of it in my hand, as though it held more than just his contact information—it held the promise of something new, something uncertain, but something important."Thank you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I really don’t know how to repay you for all of this. It’s... it’s a lot."He gave a slight shrug, his gaze softening as he watched me. "You don’t have to repay me. Just be ready when the time comes. I’m not asking for anything in return, but