Chapter 1 STRANGERS IN THE RAIN

The rain came down like the city was trying to wash itself clean.

Elena Cruz pulled her hoodie tighter around her head, her paintstained backpack slung over one shoulder and a portfolio case tucked beneath the other. Her worn-out sneakers slapped against the pavement as she rushed down 5th Avenue, dodging puddles and people, most of whom didn't even notice her.

New York City was loud, fast, and unforgiving-but at least it never pretended to be something it wasn't.

She passed by a glowing hotel entrance, pausing only to catch her breath. A sharp pain pulsed in her side too many hours without food, too many days without sleep. She was down to her last twenty dollars and had no idea where tomorrow's meal would come from, let alone rent.

Then, she heard it-a low grunt. A scuffle.

Around the corner in the narrow alley behind the hotel, two men had pinned someone against the brick wall. One of them had a knife.

Elena's instincts screamed to run. But she didn't.

Instead, she gripped her portfolio tighter, took a breath, and shouted, "Hey!"

The men looked up, startled.

"Get lost, girl," one of them barked.

"No," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "I already called the cops."

It was a lie-but a good one.

The man holding the knife cursed and motioned to his partner. "Let's go."

They took off into the night, and Elena rushed over to the man they'd attacked.

He was slumped against the wall, breathing hard. Rain soaked his black suit, and blood dripped from a cut on his lip. But it was his eyes that froze her storm-gray, piercing, alert despite the pain.

"Are you okay?" she asked, kneeling beside him.

He stared at her for a second too long. "I've had worse."

She reached into her bag and pulled out a clean cloth-the only one she had left for sketching. Without thinking, she dabbed at the blood on his face.

"You shouldn't be walking alone," she said softly.

"I could say the same to you," he replied.

That's when she noticed it-his watch. A Rolex. His cufflinks. Real gold. And the way he carried himself, even while injured, like he owned the world.

Who was this man?

She stood and extended a hand. "Come on. Let's get you out of the rain."

He took her hand, and when he stood, he towered over her. Strong. Unshaken.

"I'm Liam," he said finally. "Liam Hart."

Her breath caught in her throat. She knew that name. He wasn't just anyone.

He was the CEO of Hart International the youngest billionaire in the country.