Chapter 1: The Encounter

The annual SnowCorp charity gala was the place to be, Manhattan’s elite filling the heart of the

city with the tallest ballroom and its excesses. There were politicians, CEOs, and celebrities,

sipping champagne, mingling beneath crystal chandeliers, and chatting About power plays over

hors d'oeuvre. John Snow, CEO of SnowCorp, the host of the event was a man who thrives in

such an environment. He was dressed in a sleek, custom-tailored tuxedo, his eyes sweeping the

room coolly detached. At 33 years old, he had built a billion-dollar tech empire and was proud of

it and he wore it on his sleeve, maybe with a bit of arrogant swagger. Well nothing about him

was about what I expected, he was all about wealth, and a hell of a lot of it was earned.

One attendee stood apart in all the glitz and glamour. Standing in a simple, yet elegant dress

chosen more for modesty than for style, Emma Brooks eyes the grandeur of the occasion. As an

employee of a non-profit that provides donations for homeless families, she can only volunteer to

network with possible donors to help support her organization. Small fundraisers in community

centers were her thing, so events that were held in a high-rise building with marble floors, and

golden accents — she was not prepared for. She looked a little out of place, slipping through the

crowd quietly, as she reminded herself why she was there.

It was electric, as were their paths crossing. Emma happened to be on her way to the stage for

John's opening speech when he brushed past her. He had no idea and her elbow caught and

pulled him back with just a slight jolt. He turned, in preparations to ignore an overeager guest.

Instead, Emma’s wide, startled eyes were flushed with embarrassment and met him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” 'Quickly' she said, her face turning a deeper shade of red, releasing his

sleeve. “I didn’t mean to—”

John interrupted, his tone polite, but clipped, ‘It’s fine.’ He flicked a gaze at her a bit more

broadly, noting her understated attire. Either she wasn’t part of the usual crowd he played with,

or she reminded him of one of those customs he had heard about less often. He asked out of habit

more than out of interest, “Having fun?”

It was a wry smile Emma gave. “Well, it’s... different. Well, I don’t usually come to these kinds

of things.” Immediately, John caught the slight tone of irony she spoke with.

“Different?” He raised an eyebrow. “I am sure this would be quite an event for most people.”

She gave a light laugh. “I don’t suppose I am ‘most people,’” said he. She didn’t appear to be

intimidated; her eyes would not budge from him, unflinching, which just told him she wasn’t. “I

was here actually just to promote our non-profit work,” she said her voice softening. “Change the

life of a homeless person to one of stability; to offer the homeless the chance to start a family; to

give families a fresh start.” I guess... “It was not usually my circle to move in.”

John was started though he kept it out of his eyes. He was accustomed to people being blown

away by him, waiting to hear about his success and his money. This was this woman, talking to

him about her work as if he really cared, simply because he didn't. On almost questioning it, he

asked, 'And do you get that work — rewarding?'

“Very,” Emma answered without questioning. Steady, she tilted her head. “Don’t you think

there’s more to life than getting a paycheck?”

Her words hung in the air between them, a challenge not said out loud very often, but one that

had John’s jaw in a knot, and she intrigued him. No one had asked him like that, not very long

ago, not someone like her. He turned coolly and answered for some of us, “Wealth isn’t just a

paycheck.' It’s freedom, it’s power. It’s... security.”

A trace of pity passed across Emma’s face, but she made it disappear instantly. But it’s fleeting,

she responded. “That’s what makes it last: what you do with that wealth.”

Her response struck a chord. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be; people didn’t question

him, especially on his values. The unshakable king of his own empire was known, but here was a

woman, a stranger, who would not be daunted by his reputation, not his power. She wasn’t here

to be impressed by him... or something?

He smiled faintly at that ‘Interesting perspective.’ He extended his hand. “John Snow.”

She shook his hand firmly; her grip was warm and steady, “Emma Brooks.”

When they split, John felt like Emma was... different. When she’d looked at him in a room full

of people who would’ve given their right arm for his attention, she’d never made him feel so

irrelevant. It left a mark he wasn’t expecting.

Emma gave one last look at John from across the room, satisfied that he could see it. She might

not have all the wealth and power, but she wasn’t going to let him scare her. They had no idea

that would be the start of something that would, in ways neither could have even imagined,

change each and every part of their lives.

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