Chapter 1
CAROL
"Old disgusting pig." I muttered under my breath, my grip tightening on my bag until my knuckles turned white. "Firing me just because I refused to sleep with him. What a cliché."
I stomped down the sidewalk, the pavement feeling harder with every step. What do men think these days? Do they really believe they can dispose of us like trash just because they hold the power of a paycheck? I wasn't even a dream job—working as a waitress in that dim, smelling bar wasn't exactly the career I imagined when I walked across the stage to receive my degree in Real Estate.
But here I was. Twenty-four, unemployed, and walking through St. James's Park just to avoid going home and facing the silence of my empty apartment. My pride was hurt, but my bank account was going to hurt even more.
I made a quick stop at a small corner café, the smell of roasted beans momentarily calming my nerves. I bought a large cappuccino and a box of glazed donuts. Sugar and caffeine—the only friends I could afford right now.
As I stepped back into the brisk April air, my phone vibrated violently. I struggled to balance the pink donut box while digging the device out. It was Susan.
"Hello, Susan," I said, trying to keep my voice from trembling as I resumed my walk.
"Am I interrupting something? You sound out of breath," she noted immediately.
"No, don't worry. It's just... today has been a total nightmare."
"What happened? Did that manager give you trouble again?"
"Fired. That's what happened. He finally did it because I wouldn't play his dirty games."
"What? Carol, that's illegal! You can't just let him—"
"It's complicated, Sue," I sighed, dodging a group of laughing tourists who had no idea my world was crashing down. "I'm not in the mood to talk about the details in public. See you at my place?"
"I'll bring the strongest wine I can find. See you then."
I hung up and shoved the phone away. London was a blur of movement. People hurried past me, faces buried in their screens, looking like zombies trapped in empty shells. They were all rushing toward destinations they probably hated, yet I found myself jealous of them. At least they had a place to go.
I reached the corner and waited for the light to change. My mind was miles away, calculating how many weeks I could survive on my savings. When the signal finally turned green, a human avalanche swept me forward. The crowd was aggressive; people pushed and shoved like animals in a stampede.
Just as I was about to step onto the curb on the other side, a heavy shoulder slammed into mine.
The impact was sudden and violent. My coffee cup slipped from my hand, the lid popping off as it hit the asphalt. I felt myself losing my balance, my body tilting toward the hard ground—until a strong, firm arm wrapped around my waist like a steel band.
He caught me so fast it took my breath away. For a second, my feet actually left the ground as he pulled me through the moving crowd and onto the safety of the sidewalk. I was pressed chest-to-chest against him, the scent of expensive sandalwood and fresh mint filling my senses.
Who does this guy think he is, grabbing me like this?
I tried to squirm, but my legs felt like they were made of lead. He didn't let go; instead, he tightened his grip, steadying me against his tall, muscular frame. I looked up, a sharp remark sitting on the tip of my tongue, but the words died the moment our eyes met.
Incredible gray eyes—the color of a stormy sky—stared back at me. They were framed by thick lashes and a brow that was currently furrowed in annoyance.
"You can let go of me now," I managed to whisper. My heart wasn't just beating; it was doing frantic backflips against my ribs.
"Are you sure?" His voice was a deep, low rumble that I felt vibrating in my own chest. "Because you seem to have a problem standing on your own two feet."
I stared at him, my heart stopping for a beat. This wasn't just any man. It was William Reyes. I'd seen his face in business magazines—the ruthless real estate mogul. Up close, he was devastating. His light brown hair was perfectly styled, his jawline was sharp enough to cut glass, and his black three-piece suit fit him like a second skin.
I was aware of how we looked—a disheveled girl clinging to the most powerful man in the city.
"Yes, I'm fine," I stammered, finally finding my voice. He sighed, a sound of pure reluctance, and slowly released his hold on my waist. The loss of his warmth was immediate.
I looked down at the ground. My cappuccino was now a sad, steaming puddle on the dirty pavement.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Excuse me?" I blinked, looking back up at him. I didn't expect a man like him to apologize for a collision that was probably my fault.
"I'm sorry for spilling your coffee," he repeated, nodding toward the mess. "It was an unfortunate collision."
"It's okay, Mr. Reyes. I—"
"Why do you insist on calling me 'Mr.'?" He interrupted, his eyes searching mine. "How many years has it been since you started being friends with my daughter?"
"Six or seven years, Mr... I mean, William. I've lost track."
"Will," he corrected firmly. "Call me Will."
"Okay... Will. Well, I really have to go. Susan is probably already waiting at my door."
"Are you going straight home?" There was a strange flicker in his gray eyes. If I didn't know better, I'd say he sounded almost... concerned.
"Yes. She's coming over to help me drown my sorrows."
"In that case, let's get you a new coffee. My driver is just around the corner; Carlos can take you home."
"I... that's really not necessary. I can take the tube."
"Come on, Carol. I don't like having to repeat myself." He stepped into my personal space, so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body. His eyes were expectant, challenging me to say no again.
I took a shaky breath, defeated by those silver eyes. "I'll take the ride. But no coffee. It wasn't your fault, and I've had enough caffeine for one day."
"Fine." He turned on his heel, easily plucking the pink donut box from my hand as if it belonged to him. "Are these for the wine party?"
"No. Those were my dinner."
He raised an eyebrow, looking at the box. "Isn't that a bit much for one person?"
"When you've been fired, insulted, and nearly trampled in the same hour, nothing is too much," I snapped, my frustration bubbling back up.
"That mouth of yours," he muttered, shaking his head as he started walking. I froze for a second. Did he just scold me? Like I was a child? "In any case," he added over his shoulder, "sugar is a poor substitute for a real solution."
I hurried to catch up with his long strides. "No, I suppose not. But right now, I'm craving something sweet... and delicious."
I let the words hang there, laced with a double meaning I hadn't intended but didn't take back. Will caught it immediately; he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, a smirk almost ghosting his lips. I felt the heat rush from my neck to my cheeks, turning me bright red. I lowered my head, staring at his expensive shoes and praying for the ground to swallow me whole.