The rain hit the sidewalk in rhythmic slaps, soaking through the soles of your too-thin shoes. You pulled your coat tighter, though it did little to block the chill that clung to your bones. Your bag, stuffed with worn notebooks and a half-torn admissions letter from Columbia University, felt like dead weight on her shoulder.

You had the grades, the dreams, the grit—what you didn’t have was the money.

Working double shifts at the diner two blocks from the office towers you are could never afford to enter, You lived on black coffee and determination. Every night, you studied at a cracked Formica table in you shared apartment, willing herself to believe that someday, something would give.

It did. But not the way you expected.

The first time you saw him, he didn’t see you.

He was standing outside the revolving doors of Halston & Grey, the gleaming financial firm that practically ruled Manhattan’s skyline. Blaine Rhodes. The man the papers called ruthless. The boardrooms called brilliant. And the tabloids? They just called him trouble.

He wore a suit that probably cost more than your rent for the year and spoke with the kind of quiet confidence that came from knowing the world bent to you.

You hadn’t meant to run into him—literally. Your tray of iced coffees had slipped, and one landed squarely on the sleeve of his coat.

“I—I’m so sorry, sir—” you stammered, grabbing napkins in a panic.

Blaine looked down at her, the girl who’d just ruined his thousand-dollar jacket, and didn’t say a word for a moment. His eyes, cold as glass, studied her face—not in irritation, but curiosity. Like you were something he wasn’t used to seeing.

“I’m not mad,” he finally said. “But you’re shivering.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, backing away. You didn’t expect anything but a scolding or a sharp demand for compensation.

“Wait,” he said, his voice cutting through the rain. “What’s your name?”

You blinked. “{{user}}”

He nodded slowly. “Come inside. Just for a moment. You’ll freeze out here.”