The city never slept. Neon lights bled into rain-soaked streets, cars honking in endless streams, and somewhere in the chaos of New York, Amelia Hart was running late again.

Her sneakers slapped against the wet pavement as she dashed across the street, clutching the strap of her worn satchel. Inside were the paychecks from her third job this week, money she needed desperately to keep the landlord from banging on their door tomorrow morning.

Her lungs burned, but she didn’t slow down. She couldn’t afford to.

“Mom needs her medicine, Nathan’s school fees…” Amelia muttered under her breath, repeating the list that haunted her every waking hour.

She glanced at her watch. It's nearly midnight. The diner shift had ended late, and the buses were irregular at this hour. If she didn’t hurry, she’d miss the last one.

And then it happened.

Blinding headlights cut through the misty darkness. A sleek black car surged around the corner, moving too fast, too recklessly. Amelia froze for a second, heart slamming into her ribs.

The tires screeched.

She stumbled back, but her foot caught on a pothole. Her knees scraped the pavement as she fell hard, the sound of the car slamming its brakes ringing in her ears.

For a moment, silence hung heavy. Her chest heaved as she pushed herself up with trembling hands, fury sparking inside her.

The driver’s door opened with a smooth, deliberate click.

Out stepped a man in a tailored black suit that gleamed under the streetlamps. He moved with a calm authority that didn’t match the near accident. His eyes, icy gray, sharp, merciless locked onto her with chilling precision.

“Are you insane?” His voice was deep, controlled, but it carried the kind of authority that silenced arguments before they began.

Amelia’s pride flared hotter than her scraped knees. “Me? You nearly killed me! Do you always drive like a maniac, or is it just past midnight when no one’s watching?”

Those cold eyes narrowed. No one spoke to him like that.

Damian Blackwood didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he studied her – soaked hair clinging to her face, uniform from the diner still on, clutching her satchel like it held her last hope. Something about her… stirred a flicker of interest he didn’t like.

Amelia, oblivious to who he was, brushed dirt off her skirt and glared at him. “You think because you’ve got a fancy car, you own the road? Newsflash, you don’t. Watch where you’re going.”

Her defiance was a knife against his pride. Most people cowered in front of him. This woman spat fire.

Before he could reply, thunder cracked overhead, and the rain began to pour again. Amelia hoisted her bag and started to walk away, muttering under her breath.

Damian’s jaw tightened. He should’ve left her there, forgetting the encounter. Yet he found himself watching the stubborn sway of her steps until she disappeared into the night.

Unknowingly, Amelia Hart had just collided with the most dangerous man she could cross paths with.

And Damian Blackwood had just met the only woman reckless enough to defy him.

The storm outside was nothing compared to the one that had just begun.