CHAPTER 1 — ALMOST
The city always sounded louder when life was falling apart.
Ariel Carter wrapped her arms around herself as she stepped out of the bus station and into the evening rush. Horns blared. Sirens wailed in the distance. People brushed past her without a glance, everyone hurrying somewhere she didn't belong.
Her landlord's voice still rang in her head:
"Rent. Friday. Or you're out."
She had four days.
Four days and forty-six dollars to her name.
A cold wind pushed against her thin sweater, making her shiver. She tried not to think about the empty fridge, the unpaid electricity bills, the blinking red notice on her door.
Just one job, she told herself. Any job. Please.
Her cheap phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out, staring at the cracked screen.
No new messages. No interviews. No calls.
She sighed and looked down at the folder she carried—her résumé printed on recycled paper, corners bent, the ink slightly faded. She clutched it tighter and stepped onto the crosswalk.
The light was counting down.
10… 9… 8…
Her feet moved faster. She didn't notice the sound of the engine revving. She didn't see the black SUV speeding around the corner.
A scream tore from someone behind her.
"Ariel, MOVE!"
A strong arm wrapped around her waist—tight, urgent—pulling her back so fast her breath vanished. The SUV's front bumper missed her leg by inches, wind slamming against her body as it raced past and vanished into traffic.
Her knees buckled.
The stranger didn't let her fall.
For a moment she just clung to him, trying to breathe. Her heart hammered painfully, her vision turning sharp and bright from adrenaline.
"Are you hurt?" the man asked.
His voice was deep—controlled but edged with something sharp, like he was restraining himself from reacting too strongly.
"I—I'm okay," she whispered.
She turned to face him.
And froze.
He was… striking. Not just handsome but intense. His dark hair was pushed back neatly, his jaw sharp, a light stubble outlining his cheekbones. His suit—dark charcoal, perfectly tailored—looked more expensive than her entire apartment. His eyes were the kind that pinned you in place: steel-gray, unreadable, too observant.
He looked like someone who didn't belong on the street.
Someone too powerful, too contained, too…
Dangerous.
"You should be more careful," he said, but not unkindly. "If I hadn't—"
He stopped suddenly, his expression shifting.
His gaze locked onto her face—really looking this time. Something flickered in his eyes. Recognition? Confusion? Shock?
Ariel swallowed. "Thank you for grabbing me. You saved my life."
His jaw clenched.
"You shouldn't have been in the street," he corrected sharply.
She blinked. "The light said walk—"
He wasn't listening anymore. He stepped back, putting distance between them as quickly as he had closed it.
And just like that, the softness vanished.
He became cold. Reserved. His posture straightened, shoulders squared, expression emotionless again.
As if saving her had been a mistake.
"Next time," he said coolly, "pay attention."
She frowned. "I said thank you—why are you talking like—?"
But he was already turning away.
She watched him walk down the street, disappearing into the crowd with long, confident strides. No name. No goodbye. No explanation.
Ariel's heart was still racing, but not from fear anymore.
More like… confusion.
"What kind of person saves you and then acts like you're the problem?" she muttered under her breath.
She picked up her résumé folder from the ground and dusted it off with shaking hands. The SUV incident replayed in her mind over and over.
His voice.
His grip.
That brief moment when he looked at her like he knew her.
Impossible, she told herself.
She didn't know anyone powerful. She barely knew anyone at all.
Ariel inhaled deeply, forcing her steps to steady. She had no time to think about mysterious strangers. She had enough problems already.
But two blocks later, her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
She hesitated before answering.
"Hello?"
"Is this Ariel Carter?" a woman's crisp voice asked.
"Yes… who is this?"
"This is Sterling & Co. Staffing. You applied for a junior assistant position two months ago?"
"Oh—yes! Yes, I did."
She heard the rustling of papers.
"We have an urgent opening for an executive assistant. You're shortlisted for the interview tomorrow morning."
Ariel nearly dropped her phone. "An… executive assistant? I—I don't have much experience—"
"It's already scheduled," the woman said. "Bring ID. Dress professionally. Seven a.m."
"I—okay. Thank you."
The line went dead.
Ariel stared at the phone, stunned.
An executive assistant position? That sounded… impossible.
But she needed this. Desperately.
Her pulse eased. Hope—small and fragile—bloomed in her chest.
She began walking again, her steps lighter now.
But as she waited at the bus stop, a sleek black car rolled to a stop across the street.
She didn't see the man inside.
But he saw her.
Kade Blackwood.
His jaw clenched as he watched her through the tinted window, his eyes darkening with something unspoken—something turbulent and unwelcome.
"That was her," he muttered.
The driver didn't respond.
Kade leaned back in his seat, fingers tapping slowly against his knee as the car pulled a
way.
He had spent six years avoiding the one person he should never see again.
Yet there she was.
And she had no idea who he was.
Or what he had done.