chapter 1

Skyler : ~

My life was never easy.

I grew up poor. Our apartment was small and old. The roof leaked when it rained. The walls were thin, so I could hear the neighbors shouting almost every night. The kitchen light kept blinking no matter how many times we changed the bulb.

My parents worked hard in a small grocery shop, but we barely earned enough for rent and food. I helped there after college, carrying heavy boxes and cleaning shelves. That was my routine every day.

I didn’t own fancy clothes or gadgets. My sneakers were torn, and my phone had a cracked screen. While other students talked about trips, cars, or new phones, I stayed quiet. My world was just… small.

The only person who never made me feel less was Sam.

Sam was rich. His house was huge, with shiny floors and servants who bowed when he walked in. He had everything—money, cars, clothes. But he never looked down on me. He was my best friend from the first year of college, and he treated me like family.

That evening, Sam asked me to come to his party.

“Come on, Skyler,” he said, jingling his car keys. “You work too much. Tonight, you need fun.”

I hesitated. “Your friends don’t really like me.”

“Who cares?” Sam laughed. “You’re my best friend. If I invite you, you belong there. End of story.”

I sighed and nodded. I didn’t want to go, but saying no to Sam was always hard.

When we reached his car, I sat in the passenger seat, feeling out of place already. The leather seat smelled expensive. I looked down at my plain jeans and faded shirt. My shoes were old. Everyone at his parties always wore fancy clothes.

By the time we arrived, my stomach was tight. His house was huge, glowing with lights. Expensive cars filled the driveway. Music and laughter spilled from inside.

I froze. “Sam… maybe I should go back.”

He rolled his eyes and pushed my shoulder lightly. “Stop. You’re with me, okay? Don’t think too much.”

Inside, everything sparkled. A big chandelier shone over the living room. People laughed loudly, holding drinks in shiny glasses. They all looked perfect, like models in magazines.

I stayed near the door, holding a soda can I grabbed from the counter. My hands felt sweaty.

Some people looked at me quickly, then away, like I didn’t matter. I heard whispers.

“Who’s he?”

“Sam’s poor friend, I think.”

Their words stung, but I kept my face blank. I was used to this. People always judged me for being poor.

I told myself I was here for Sam. That was all.

But as I stood there, surrounded by wealth and lights, I felt even smaller. Like I didn’t belong. Like I was standing outside a world that would never accept me.

The party felt louder the longer I stayed. Music thumped through the walls, people laughed in groups, and I stood alone, sipping my soda like it was my shield.

Sam had gone off to greet more friends, and I didn’t want to follow him around like a lost puppy. I told myself I could handle being alone. I just had to avoid attention.

I decided to step away from the crowd and walk toward the side hall. Maybe I could find some quiet there. I wasn’t watching closely, my head down, when it happened.

I bumped into someone hard.

My soda can slipped from my hand, spilling dark liquid all over the man’s suit jacket. I gasped, frozen, staring at the spreading stain.

“Oh my god—I’m so sorry!” I blurted out, panicked.

The man slowly turned his head toward me.

And for a second, I forgot how to breathe.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp features that looked like they were cut from stone. His eyes were cold and dark, staring straight into me like knives. His suit was perfect, expensive, probably worth more than everything I owned combined. And now, because of me, it had a giant stain across it.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he said, his voice low but sharp.

My throat went dry. “I—I wasn’t looking. I didn’t mean—”

“Clearly.” He looked down at his ruined jacket, then back at me. His gaze was full of irritation, like I was nothing more than a nuisance. “Do you even realize how much this costs?”

My chest tightened. Of course I didn’t know. I had never even seen clothes like his in stores. I wanted to apologize again, but the words stuck in my throat.

“I—I’m really sorry,” I whispered, my face hot. “I didn’t see—”

He cut me off. “People like you shouldn’t be here if you can’t even watch where you’re going.”

The words hit harder than I expected. People like you. He didn’t have to say it, but I knew what he meant. Poor. Out of place. Not good enough for a place like this.

“I’ll clean it, I swear—” I tried, but he stepped back sharply, as if the thought of me even touching his jacket was disgusting.

“Don’t bother,” he said coldly. His eyes swept over me once, taking in my plain clothes, my old sneakers, the crack on my phone peeking out of my pocket. His lips curled in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Figures.”

I felt small. Embarrassed. Like the whole party had stopped to stare, even though maybe no one noticed. My ears burned, and I wanted nothing more than to disappear.

Before I could say anything else, a voice called out, breaking the tense silence.

“Neil!”

I turned. Sam was coming toward us, grinning like always.

Neil? My heart gave a strange thump. So this was him—the famous Neil Kingsley. The CEO. The man people whispered about like he was untouchable.

And I had just spilled soda all over him.

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