The world had always been harsh on Jaxon Hale. Born into a cramped, rundown apartment in the outskirts of Detroit, he learned early that poverty had no mercy. His clothes were always too small, his shoes worn thin, and hunger was his closest companion. Yet, in the silence of those long nights when the power went out, Jaxon's dreams burned brighter than any streetlight in the neighborhood.
He had one constant source of strength—his love for Seren Avery. She was the girl who had promised to stay by his side when he had nothing but ambition. Her words used to sound like salvation: "Jaxon, money doesn't matter. As long as you love me, I'll never leave you." He believed her.
But promises, like the wind, are easy to scatter.
As the years crawled by, Jaxon worked odd jobs—washing dishes in diners, hauling heavy crates at the docks, and fixing computers on the weekends. Every dollar he earned went into a secret jar under his bed, his little treasury of hope. He dreamed of starting a business, of becoming more than just