Chapter One: The Offer
Rain blurred the windows the day Elena Hart lost everything. Definitely not the soft, romantic kind—the sort with candlelight and slow music. The merciless kind that sank into your clothes—and into hope itself—like cold rain that never let up. She waited on the sidewalk outside the bank, the paper shaking in her grip like a leaf in the wind."FINAL WARNING" blazed in red across the top, sharp as a knife stroke on fresh paper."Miss Hart," the manager had said moments ago, voice cold and rehearsed. "If payment is not made within seventy-two hours, the property will be seized."
Seventy-two hours.
"Miss Hart," the manager said a moment ago, his voice flat and polished like glass. If you don't pay within seventy-two hours, they'll take the property—three days, gone in a blink. Her small brick house, warm light spilling from the kitchen window, felt entirely her own. The echo of her father's legacy lingered, like the scent of cedar in his old workshop. Gone, like the whisper of a door closing behind you. As if fate hadn't done enough damage, her fiancé went silent the instant the news hit—her last call rang and rang before dropping into empty air. Three years of promises disappeared overnight, like dust swept from a windowsill. Elena drew a trembling breath and stepped into the rain, cool drops spattering her cheeks. That's when a black Rolls-Royce Phantom eased to a stop right in front of her, its paint shining like wet glass. The door creaked open, letting in a sliver of cool air. The polished shoes hit the damp pavement, splashing a thin line of water as they landed. And then it was him, standing there with the wind tugging at his sleeve. Adrian Wolfe leaned against the rain-slick railing, his breath fogging in the cool night air. Even with rain lashing sideways, he stood untouched—black suit crisp, jaw cut clean, eyes cold and blank as a blade of winter steel."The rumors are true," he said smoothly, his deep voice barely raised above the rain. "You're in trouble."
Elena stiffened. "This doesn't concern you, Mr. Wolfe."
"On the contrary," he replied, stepping closer. "It concerns me very much."
He handed her a sleek envelope.
People didn't just respect him—they leaned in when he spoke, hanging on every word. They were afraid of him—the way his voice cut through the room like ice in a glass."The rumors are true," he said, his deep voice cutting through the soft patter of rain. Elena froze, the words "You're in trouble" snapping through the air like a whip."This isn't your business, Mr. Wolfe."
"Actually, it is," he said, moving in close enough that Wolfe could smell the faint bite of tobacco on his coat."It really worries me," he said, pressing a sleek, ivory envelope into her hand. Inside lay a contract, its paper crisp and smelling faintly of ink."This is insane."
Adrian's lips curved faintly—not a smile. Her debts are finally gone, every last note cleared."You have seventy-two hours," he said. "After that, I withdraw the offer."
He turned to leave, then paused.
"And Elena?"
She looked up.
"You don't want to know what happens when I decide to collect something I'm owed."
The car door shut.
Her house was locked up tight, the metal latch cool beneath her fingertips. Her future, whole again, shining like morning light on clear water. In return for just one thing—a single promise whispered over a cup of coffee.