Chapter One: Worlds Apart
The Jade mansion stood like a palace on the hill, its marble walls shimmering under the morning sun. Rows of polished cars lined the driveway, each one a testament to the wealth and prestige of Richard Jade, one of the city’s most powerful business tycoons. Inside the house, chandeliers glittered above silk curtains and imported rugs. It was a world where luxury wasn’t desired—it was expected.
Christiana Jade, Richard’s only daughter, glided down the staircase in a flowing gown. At twenty-one, she was beauty and elegance wrapped into one: flawless skin, ocean-blue eyes, and hair that gleamed like spun gold. Every step she took carried the weight of refinement, as if the world itself bent slightly to accommodate her presence.
Yet behind her composed smile was a girl suffocating in a golden cage. Her father’s expectations weighed heavy—marry into wealth, maintain the family’s prestige, carry herself as a symbol of the Jade empire. To outsiders, her life was enviable; to Christiana, it felt scripted, hollow.
Across town, life painted a different picture. The streets were crowded, the air thick with the smell of oil, sweat, and dust. Here stood Mike’s Auto Works, a worn-down garage with rusted signage and tools older than their user. Paul Mike wiped grease off his hands as he tightened the last bolt on a battered taxi. His muscles ached, but his mind was sharper than ever—survival left no room for weakness.
Paul was twenty-four, tall and lean, with calloused hands and a gaze that carried the weight of responsibility. Since their mother’s passing and their father’s disappearance, Paul had become the backbone of his family. He worked long hours to feed his younger siblings, sacrificing his dreams so they could hold onto theirs. Every penny he earned was stretched, every meal counted. He was poor, yes—but rich in loyalty, resilience, and determination.
The difference between Christiana and Paul was a chasm so wide it seemed laughable to think their lives could ever touch. She dined on silver plates; he often skipped meals so his siblings wouldn’t go hungry. She lived under crystal chandeliers; he slept on a worn mattress in a crowded room. She had never known what it meant to want. He had never known what it meant to rest.
But fate is a strange architect.
On one side of the city, Christiana’s car keys jingled in her manicured hand as she prepared to drive herself to another gala—a gathering of wealth, power, and polite lies. On the other side, Paul slammed the hood of the taxi shut, sweat dripping down his brow, unaware that the next job coming into his garage would alter the course of his life.
Two souls, worlds apart.
Two hearts destined to collide.
And as the sun dipped below the horizon, the city seemed to whisper, weaving their stories together—threads of love, pain, and hope waiting to form a tapestry neither of them could yet imagine.
