The sound of her brother's voice made Elena Roberts' heart sink.
"Elena, please… you have to help me. I don't know what else to do."
She pressed her phone tighter against her ear, clutching the cracked screen with trembling fingers. The last bus had dropped her off a block away from the family's crumbling apartment, and her legs burned from the uphill climb. She was exhausted from her second shift at the diner, her uniform still smelling faintly of grease and coffee. But Daniel's voice carried a kind of desperation she had never heard before.
"Daniel, what happened?" she asked, already fearing the answer.
There was a pause, followed by a shaky exhale. "I borrowed money."
Elena stopped dead on the sidewalk. The streetlamp above flickered, casting shadows across the broken pavement. "You did what?"
"I didn't have a choice," he blurted out. "I just needed a little to cover the rent until my next paycheck came in. But then… then I lost some of it in a card game and—"
"Daniel!" Elena's voice cracked with disbelief. "Tell me you didn't go near those men."
The silence was answer enough.
Her heart pounded painfully in her chest. She had heard the rumors about the loan sharks that prowled their neighborhood—men who wore expensive suits but carried knives behind their smiles. They didn't just take your money when you failed to pay. They took your pride, your safety, sometimes even your life.
"How much?" Elena asked in a whisper.
"…Fifty thousand."
The world tilted. "Fifty—?!" She grabbed onto the iron railing of a nearby staircase to steady herself. "Daniel, how could you? Where are we supposed to find that kind of money?"
"I thought I could win it back," he said miserably. "I thought—I don't know what I thought. But they're coming tomorrow, Lena. If I don't have the payment, they said…" His voice dropped, trembling. "…they said they'll make sure you and Mom regret it."
Elena's stomach twisted into knots. She pictured her mother, frail and still recovering from her last hospital stay. She pictured herself, barely scraping enough from two jobs to cover food, electricity, and medication. And now this.
She forced herself to keep calm, if only to stop her brother from spiraling. "Okay. Listen to me. Don't do anything stupid. Don't leave the house. I'll think of something."
"Lena…"
"I'll fix it," she said firmly, though the words tasted like lies. "I always do."
When the call ended, she stood on the sidewalk for a long moment, staring at the city lights blinking in the distance. Her chest felt heavy, her throat raw. There was no way out of this. No matter how many hours she worked, she could never earn that kind of money before tomorrow.
Unless…
Her thoughts drifted back to earlier that evening. To the accidental disaster that had changed everything.
---
The gala had been like stepping into another world.
Elena hadn't been invited, of course. She was just a waitress, borrowed from the diner staff to help serve champagne at the Knight Corporation's annual charity event. The ballroom had glittered with chandeliers, gowns that probably cost more than her family's yearly rent, and men in tailored suits who never looked twice at the servers weaving through them.
That is, until she crashed into him.
One second she was balancing a tray of champagne flutes, the next she was colliding with a wall of muscle wrapped in an expensive black tuxedo. Crystal shattered on the marble floor, golden liquid splashing across the man's polished shoes. Gasps rose from the guests around them.
Elena's cheeks burned as she stammered, "I—I'm so sorry!"
The man looked down at her with eyes like storm clouds—cold, sharp, and utterly unforgiving. His jaw tightened as though he'd just been insulted at the highest degree.
Alexander Knight.
Even someone like Elena, who barely kept up with the business world, knew his name. Billionaire CEO of Knight Enterprises. A man whose ruthless deals made headlines as often as his icy demeanor.
He studied her with that cutting stare, as though trying to decide whether she was worth acknowledging at all. "Do you know what these shoes cost?" His voice was low, smooth, and dangerous.
Elena's pride flared despite her mortification. She was tired, overworked, and had just been humiliated in front of a crowd that treated her like invisible dust. And now this arrogant billionaire was scolding her over a pair of shoes?
"No," she shot back, lifting her chin. "But I'm sure you can afford another pair."
A ripple of shocked murmurs spread through the guests. Elena instantly regretted it, but it was too late. Alexander's lips curved into the faintest smirk, though his eyes remained glacial.
"Interesting," he murmured, as if cataloging her like an unusual specimen. "Very interesting."
The supervisor had nearly dragged Elena out by the arm after that, apologizing profusely to Mr. Knight. She was certain she'd lost the temporary job—and probably the diner one too once the story spread. But for some reason, Alexander Knight hadn't demanded she be fired. He'd simply watched her leave with that unreadable expression.
Now, hours later, as Elena replayed the scene in her head, she couldn't shake the feeling that the powerful man had already decided something about her.
Something that terrified her more than the loan sharks at her door.
---
By the time Elena reached home, her mother was already asleep on the couch, worn out from her medication. Daniel paced the tiny living room like a caged animal, running his hands through his hair.
When she told him she'd think of a way, she had meant it. But as she crawled into bed in the small room she shared with her mother, Elena knew the truth.
There was no miracle coming.
No savior.
Unless fate had already placed one in her path… a man with stormy eyes and an offer she couldn't yet imagine.
The next morning, a sleek black car parks outside Elena's shabby apartment. A driver steps out and says, "Miss Roberts? Mr. Knight would like a word.