For two days, Sol Kelly holed up in her hotel room, never once stepping outside. All she did was work the phones, chasing down any potential buyer for her shares of Windward Tech. On the third day, the front desk called up: her bill was due. That was when she noticed her account had gone bone-dry—Zamir Peterson had cut her off from their joint bank account.

Pissed, Sol unblocked Zamir's number and called him.

“Zamir, what gives you the right to mess with my money?”

She didn't even have to guess. She'd used his computer once to log into online banking—and hadn't bothered to hide it.

“Sol, every cent you have comes from me. You want to break up? Fine. But you're not walking away with a dime of what's mine.”

A disbelieving laugh slipped out. “Zamir, you're not half as powerful as you think you are.”

She hung up and blocked him again. On the other end, Zamir's face went dark with fury. His grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles turned white. His assistant edged into the room like he already regretted it.

“Mr. Peterson... Ms. Kelly sold the house two days ago. Thirty thousand under market value.”

Zamir's head snapped up. “That's impossible. Are you sure?”

The assistant nodded, barely breathing. “No mistake, sir. She's been staying at the Marriott.”

Zamir snatched up his car keys and stormed out, panic clawing through him in a way he wasn't used to. She'd sold their home. That meant she was serious. This wasn't some game of cat and mouse. She was done.

Down in the hotel lobby, Sol fixed her gaze on the man sitting across from her. “If you can't find a buyer, try Eagle Corporation. I'm sure they'd love a piece of Windward.”

“But Ms. Kelly, Eagle is Windward's biggest rival. If they get those shares, Zamir's in for hell.”

Sol smiled, calm as still water. “And why should that matter to me?”

Something in her expression told him not to push. He slid a card across the table. “The password is your birthday.”

With that card, she paid for four more nights at the hotel. On her way back to her room, the door to the neighboring suite swung open, and a tall man stepped out. Broad-shouldered, athletic, with dark eyes that held a cool, unreadable distance. Sol glanced at him on instinct. He gave her a polite nod. She returned it as they passed.

Not long after, a knock sounded at her door. She opened it—and found herself staring straight into Zamir's familiar face. Her expression iced over instantly.

“Mr. Peterson. What brings you here?”

He hated the formal address, especially with that cold, distant look on her face.

“Sol, why didn't you talk to me before selling our house?”

A hint of sarcasm curled her lips. “The house is in my name. Selling it was my call. And if you're looking for an answer, here it is: I don't want you, and I don't want the house.”

Zamir's throat went dry. “You're really willing to throw away three years?”

“You threw it away first.”

The calm in her voice gutted him. A desperate, sinking loss opened up inside his chest. For the first time, he was afraid he couldn't fix this.

“She means nothing to me. I love you. I always have. Once we're married, I'll cut her off. She won't be a problem.”

Sol's voice went ice-cold. “I don't recycle trash.”

Rage twisted Zamir's face. He grabbed her wrist, slammed her back against the wall, and crushed his mouth to hers. Sol went pale. She shoved at him, but he was stronger—too strong—and he held her there.

He tugged at her collar, his breath hot against her skin. “Sol, I know I was wrong. Forgive me. Let's just—”

Her fury turned to terror. She fought him with everything she had. “Get off me! Don't touch me!”

“Help! Help—” His hand clamped over her mouth, muffling the scream.

“Sweetheart, shh. I'm sorry. Don't yell. Please. I'll be gentle,” he whispered, as if force could ever be mistaken for love.

Panic swallowed her whole. The door began to swing shut, and fear sliced through Sol.

At the last second, a hand caught the door before it could close.

Adrian Lopez stepped in, pulled Sol out of Zamir's grip, and sent him sprawling to the floor. He glanced at the trembling woman, his voice low. “Are you okay?”

Sol nodded, still shaking. It was the man from earlier—the one who'd nodded to her in the hall. Fear had blinded her to everything else, including how exposed she was.

Adrian's dark eyes swept over her rumpled clothes, her torn collar. Without a word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “Cover up.”

Heat rushed to Sol's face. She looked down, realized what she must look like, and quickly pulled the jacket tight around herself.

“Who the hell are you? This is between my wife and me. Stay out of it,” Zamir spat, scrambling to his feet, fury burning in his eyes.

Adrian didn't flinch. His voice dripped with contempt. “Your husband?”

Sol shook her head hard. “No. We're broken up. He was trying to force me.”

Adrian's expression turned to stone. He fixed Zamir with a stare cold enough to freeze fire. “So, an ex-boyfriend. Pathetic. Forcing yourself on a woman—what a disgrace. You waiting for the cops, or should I call them myself?”

Zamir burned with rage, but something about Adrian—the authority, the money, the danger—warned him not to push.

“Sol, please. Calm down. I'll come by again tomorrow.”

She watched Zamir retreat, then let out a shaky breath. Her nerves finally began to unwind.

“Thank you. Can I take you to dinner tomorrow?”

She needed to thank him somehow. His timing had been everything.

“Adrian Lopez.”

The name tugged at a memory she couldn't quite catch. Before she could grasp it, Adrian had already turned to leave. His parting shot drifted back over his shoulder.

“You sure have lousy taste in men.”

Sol was left speechless.

After leaving the hotel, Zamir Peterson got a call from Carly Perkins.

“Zamir, we have a problem. I heard Sol Kelly is planning to sell her shares in Windward Tech.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Zamir’s voice went ice-cold.

“It’s true. I’ve already reassured everyone that it’s just a misunderstanding between you two and that the rumors about her selling are completely baseless... But if Sol is set on selling, there will be buyers.”

The company had just gone public and was making serious waves in Manchester’s business scene, drawing plenty of attention.

Zamir, jaw tight, turned back to confront Sol.

“Sol Kelly, what gives you the right to sell your shares in Windward Tech? Get out here and talk to me!”

Sol had just taken a deep breath when the pounding started—and Zamir’s voice, furious and barely controlled, cut through the door. She wasn’t stupid enough to open it and let him in. Ever since she’d found out about his infidelity and betrayal, their relationship was done. There was nothing left to say.

She called the hotel front desk. “Hello, I need someone up here immediately to remove the man harassing me outside my door. Otherwise, I’ll have serious questions about this hotel’s security.”

Soon, she heard Zamir arguing with someone—then the sound of him being hauled away.

Her phone rang again. Unknown number. The second she answered, Zamir’s cold, angry voice filled her ear.

“Sol Kelly, without my consent, no one will dare touch the shares of Windward Tech.”

His past successes had made him arrogant, overconfident.

At his boast, Sol let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Zamir, I hope you can hold on to that confidence.”

She had no interest in talking further. She hung up and blocked the number.

Sol logged into her online banking, changed every card password, and made a call. “Contact Eagle Corporation. Tell them I’m willing to sell my Windward Tech shares at a ten-percent discount.”

With only two days left, she wanted this handled fast—and she wanted to avoid dragging out any conflict with Zamir.

Meanwhile, Zamir spent the night spreading threats through business circles: anyone who dared acquire Sol Kelly’s shares in Windward Tech would be making an enemy of him, and he promised to make sure they’d regret doing business in Manchester.

No one wanted to risk offending a rising star in the business world.

...

“Mr. Lopez, we’ve been approached about acquiring a fifty-percent stake in Windward Tech at a ten-percent discount. What’s your take?”

The head of Eagle Corporation asked cautiously. Mr. Lopez had never shown much interest in Windward Tech before. Then, for reasons no one understood, he’d changed his tune.

Adrian Lopez lounged on the sofa, shirt collar unbuttoned, and took a sip of coffee. The heat of it eased the tension in his brow, just a little.

“An opportunity like that doesn’t come around every day. Buy it at the discounted price.”

“Understood. I’ll let them know right away.”

After he hung up, a knock came at the door. Adrian rose to answer it.

When he saw the woman outside, he raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s going on?”

She had changed into a cream-colored Victorian-style dress, delicate pearl buttons at the neckline. The fabric draped elegantly, casting a soft glow over her features.

“Thank you for your help earlier. If you don’t mind, may I treat you to dinner?”

She hated owing anyone.

Adrian slid one hand casually into his trouser pocket, standing tall and indifferent. “Ms. Kelly, are you always this forward?”

“Of course not. It depends on the person.”

She wasn’t the type to let just anyone close. But when gratitude was due, she paid it.

The answer seemed to amuse him. Adrian accepted.

In the hotel restaurant, Sol handed him the menu.

“Ladies first.”

A gentlemanly move.

She chose a few light dishes at random, and Adrian added some of the restaurant’s specialties.

Then something occurred to her, and she looked at him, puzzled.

“Mr. Lopez, do you know me?”

How else would he know her last name was Kelly? She didn’t remember telling him.

Adrian dodged the question, a faint smile on his lips. “I do now.”

She didn’t push. They were just passing acquaintances. Once she left Manchester, they might never cross paths again.

“Thank you for today. I’ll have your clothes cleaned tonight and returned to you tomorrow.”

Adrian smiled lightly and said nothing.

In the car parked by the roadside, Zamir still hadn’t left. After ending his call, he glanced up—and saw a man and a woman by the restaurant window. The man was the same one who’d interfered earlier. The woman was Sol.

The light fell over them, framing a handsome man and a beautiful woman in pleasant conversation. They looked effortless together. In harmony.

Zamir’s face darkened instantly, his eyes stormy with jealousy he refused to name.

How did Sol even know him? Had she been seeing this man in secret all along? Was staying at this hotel really just a coincidence?

Using his money to dine with another man.

Bravo, Sol Kelly.

Adrian sensed someone watching. He turned, his sharp gaze locking onto Zamir’s furious stare from inside the car.

With calm indifference, Adrian looked away.

“Don’t move.”

Sol froze, lifting her eyes to his.

“What’s wrong?”

Adrian leaned in and brushed his thumb across her lips.

“A little sauce.”

He pulled out a napkin and wiped his fingertips with practiced grace.

Sol blinked, her cheeks warming with embarrassment. “Thank you.”

It felt awkward. Who did that? They’d just met, and he was already this forward...

Or maybe he was just smooth—the kind of man who treated every woman with that same easy charm?

“I’m not usually this attentive with others. If I overstepped, I apologize.”

“...”

Sol felt awkward. She shouldn’t have assumed the worst about a man who’d helped her.

“Your ex-boyfriend seems persistent. Be careful.”

Adrian gestured toward the window.

Sol turned her head, spotted the figure by the car, and frowned instinctively.

He still hadn’t left. But he wasn’t her problem anymore.

“Ignore him.”

Just an arrogant fool.

“Just broke up?”

“Yeah.”

She didn’t like discussing her personal life—especially this rare lapse in judgment. It was embarrassing.

“He seems deeply attached. Unwilling to let go.”

Sol laughed bitterly. Very much so. So attached that he’d had an affair for two years without her knowing. If Carly hadn’t grown impatient and exposed them, Sol might still be in the dark, patting herself on the back for finding true love. What a joke.

Of course, she didn’t believe Zamir stayed because he couldn’t let go. He knew she was selling half her shares in Windward Tech—it struck at his core interests, and he wanted to stop her.

Zamir hadn’t expected Sol to ignore him and keep dining happily with another man. The loss of control infuriated him.

He was just about to get out and confront her when his phone rang.

“Zamir, I’m pregnant.”

Hearing Zamir Peterson’s name set Sol Kelly’s nerves on edge, but she kept her expression neutral as she watched him drive off. The second he was out of sight, she let out a shaky breath of relief.

After dinner, Sol turned to Adrian Lopez. “Mr. Lopez, I can’t thank you enough for stepping in tonight. If Zamir had gotten his way, I’d never have forgiven myself.”

Adrian waved her off. “It was nothing.”

The next morning, she had the dry-cleaned suit jacket sent to the room next door, only to find out Adrian had already checked out. Last night, when she’d handed it in to be cleaned, she’d noticed it was custom-made—clearly expensive. Mr. Lopez was obviously a man of influence. Maybe their paths would cross again.

Back in her room, Sol called to check on the progress. “Ms. Kelly, Eagle Corporation is prepared to buy the entire stake.”

“Great. Proceed with it.”

“Understood.”

Sol hung up, left the hotel, stopped by a store for supplies, then took a cab to the orphanage. For the past three years, she and Zamir had supported this orphanage. It wasn’t much—just $1,500 a year—but it was enough to make sure the children got a few nutritious meals. When things were calmer, she and Zamir would bring treats and supplies for the kids. But Zamir had gotten busier and busier, leaving Sol to make these visits alone.

The moment she stepped inside, joyful voices filled the air like a chorus of happy birds. “Sol!”

The children swarmed her, faces bright with joy. Warmth bloomed in her chest as she gently patted the nearest boy’s head. “Where’s Mrs. Quinn?”

At the sound of her voice, the orphanage director, Mrs. Quinn, stepped out, her face breaking into a warm smile. “Sol, what brings you here today?”

Sol handed over bags stuffed with new toothbrushes, towels, notebooks, and pencils. “Just wanted to see the kids. I brought some essentials and supplies.”

Mrs. Quinn took them gratefully, her expression full of thanks. “You always bring so much whenever you visit. The children and I can’t thank you enough.”

It was rare to find someone like Sol—young, generous with both money and time. And it had only been a month since her last visit.

Once the children had carried the supplies to the storage room, Mrs. Quinn led Sol to a bench in the garden. “Sol, is something wrong?” she asked gently.

Sol managed a small smile. “I’m actually here to say goodbye.”

“Are you and Zamir leaving Manchester?”

Mrs. Quinn remembered that Zamir’s company had just gone public. Leaving now felt sudden. Had something happened?

“Zamir and I broke up. That’s why I’m leaving.”

Three years ago, Sol had come to Manchester alone. Now she was leaving the same way. “But you were just about to get married?” Mrs. Quinn remembered Sol bringing wedding invitations on her last visit, her face glowing with happiness.

“He’s been cheating for two years. I only just found out.” Sol lowered her gaze, her long lashes hiding the hurt in her eyes. She was determined to move on, but saying it out loud to someone who had witnessed how deep her relationship with Zamir had been brought a dull ache to her heart.

“Could it be a misunderstanding?” Mrs. Quinn had seen the way Zamir cared for Sol. His tenderness had seemed genuine.

“No misunderstanding. I saw it with my own eyes.” Sol’s voice was steady—and flat.

Mrs. Quinn’s expression twisted with pain. She wasn’t sure how to comfort her. She squeezed Sol’s hand. “Sol, you’re beautiful and kind. You deserve better.”

Just then, Zamir appeared at the entrance. Mrs. Quinn’s grip tightened reflexively. Sol followed her gaze, and her expression turned to ice.

“Mrs. Quinn, I brought some supplies and groceries for the kids.” Zamir’s voice was calm as he motioned for his assistant to bring in the boxes, his eyes never leaving Sol.

Mrs. Quinn looked at Sol anxiously. “Go ahead, Mrs. Quinn. I’ll be fine,” Sol said.

After a moment’s hesitation, Mrs. Quinn left, leaving the two of them alone.

Zamir stepped closer, all self-assurance, his tall frame casting a shadow over her. “Sol, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have tried to force you,” he began.

“What’s the point of this now?” Sol’s voice was steady, betraying nothing.

“I know you didn’t mean what you said.” He reached out and grabbed her wrist. Sol tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened. “We care about each other. We shouldn’t be apart. I’ll deal with Carly. I want the wedding to go ahead as planned.”

His handsome face wore a mask of gentle warmth, as if last night’s coercion and his earlier betrayals had been nothing but a bad dream.

Sol let out a soft, humorless laugh. “Zamir, marrying an ‘older woman’ like me—aren’t you afraid you’ll regret it every single day?”

“There will be no wedding. And I won’t forgive you.”

Anger flashed in Zamir’s eyes, and his grip tightened. “I said those things in jest. I didn’t mean them. The fact that you’re upset proves how much you care.”

“Does a two-year adulterer deserve a place in my heart?” Sol wrenched her hand free, her eyes full of open disdain.

Once, Sol had looked at him with warmth and love. Now her gaze held nothing but indifference and disgust.

Unable to stand losing control, Zamir leaned in and dropped his voice to a threat. “Sol, I know you care about the orphanage and the kids. If it were gone, what would happen to them? To Mrs. Quinn?”

Her eyes sharpened. “What are you planning?”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and whispered in her ear, “I just don’t want to lose you. And I don’t want any problems with the wedding.”

He used to be the one who didn’t want marriage. Now he was the one insisting. Did everything have to go his way?

A chill ran through Sol, spreading like ice through her veins. “Zamir, Mrs. Quinn and the children are innocent. You have no right to decide their fate.”

“Sol, you’re mistaken.” His voice was cold, ruthless. “This world runs on survival of the fittest. The people at the bottom—their lives are worth the least. Deciding their fate takes nothing more than a few words from me.”

His gaze locked on hers, a tyrannical warning. “Surely you don’t want them to suffer because of you?”