Chapter 1

The year I finally made it, the year my name meant something, I found Jonathan Parker again at the mouth of a back alley. He was the boy I had secretly loved back in school. My unreachable crush.

He was still beautiful, but life had clearly beaten him down; he looked lost and worn.

I just stood there, staring at him for a while, then shot a quick text to my fiancé to reschedule our meeting that afternoon.

I took him back to my bright, spacious place.

I gave him warmth and care, letting him find his own way back to life.

Until one day, I ran into him on the street, kissing his ex-girlfriend.

That was when I finally understood. This private invitation I had extended to my youth had reached its end.

So I walked out of his world completely and immediately scheduled a meeting with my marriage partner.

When Jonathan walked in on us, the man beside me, refined and handsome, wrapped his arms around me from behind. He looked Jonathan over calmly, then tilted his head and smiled at me.

"Baby," he said softly, almost amused, "is this the little lover you've been keeping on the side?"

*****

The day I saw Jonathan again felt no different from any other.

I was sitting in the back seat of my Maybach, half dozing, thinking about how to handle the next project and its potential partners.

Then, without any warning, I glanced out the window. My heart skipped violently.

"Pull over," I said.

The driver looked confused but obeyed, easing the car to the curb.

I leaned toward the window and stared outside.

At the entrance of a small alley, someone was sitting against the wall.

His face was pale and drawn, exhaustion carved into his features, yet his beauty was impossible to hide. His white shirt was stained with dust and grime, like a flower that had bloomed too fully and withered too soon.

I just kept staring at him quietly, my heart thundering in my chest.

I was still debating whether walking up to him right away would feel too sudden when a group of men appeared on the sidewalk. Tattooed arms. Bleached hair. Loud voices. The kind of people trouble clung to.

They made a beeline for Jonathan.

I frowned, quickly scanning the nearby surveillance cameras and the flow of people across the street.

After a brief moment of consideration, I stepped out of the car with my secretary and walked over.

Before I even got close, I heard the threats spilling out, crude and aggressive.

"So you still can't pay, huh?" one of them sneered. "That works too. Let me give you a suggestion. With a pretty face like yours, you have any idea how many men would pay good money for you? Want us to make some introductions?"

Seven or eight of them burst into laughter. Amid the noise, one of them stepped hard on Jonathan's arm and deliberately twisted his foot.

Without thinking, I blurted out, "Stop it!"

All eyes turned toward me, including Jonathan's.

His eyes were dull and clouded, empty of reaction. He glanced at me briefly, then lowered his head again.

I looked at the blond man who seemed to be in charge. "How much does he owe?"

He let out a sharp whistle. "Not us. We're just collecting. This guy owes our boss 250 thousand."

I looked down at Jonathan again, concern flickering in my eyes.

He didn't say a word.

So it was true.

I nodded. "Give me a bank account. I'll cover it for now."

The men exchanged glances. The leader let out a cold laugh, flicked his eyes toward my Maybach, then tore a scrap of paper and handed it to me.

I barely looked at it before passing it to my secretary.

As they were leaving, the blond man glanced back at me again. It was impossible to tell whether it was a warning or a mockery.

"250 thousand is just what he owes on our end," he said. "He signed a high-risk contract. The hole he dug is way bigger than that. Even his girlfriend of years bailed and left him.

He smirked. "Miss, you might want to be careful. Wouldn't want to lose both your money and your heart."

*****

For the first time, a crack appeared in Jonathan's emotionless mask. His voice was strained as he finally spoke, "He's right. I don't have any money to pay you back."

I smiled lightly. "Then what about you?"

He looked up at me, hesitation flickering in his eyes. "You mean…"

I didn't avoid it. "I want you."

He stared at me for a moment, then smiled, as if something heavy had finally been set down. "If that's what you want," he said quietly, "then I can do that."