By morning my body ached, my heart felt raw, and my stomach cried from hunger. But my mother's pale and fragile face in that hospital left me with no choice but to go.

I remember Ana's statement concerning the cafe that she went to. I decided to give it a try, hoping not to get rejected.

Immediately after I entered the café, there were a lot of noises. Laughter. Whispering everywhere.

I headed straight to where the counter was; luckily, it was the manager who was standing there. She was a tall woman with sharp eyebrows.

She murmured in a calm and gentle tone.

"Yes, what can I offer you?"

"Nothing, Ma, I just came to ask if you need anybody to assist you like a waiter." I said.

"Nope, I'm not looking for any waiter," she replied, tapping her nails against the counter.

"But Ma, even if it's a cleaning job, I will do it, please, Ma," I whispered as my knees reached the ground.

"Fine. Let's see how desperate you are."

She raised a brow, then suddenly snapped her fingers at one of the baristas.

"Prepare a large caramel espresso."

The barista nodded.

Then she turned to me, crossing her arms.

"Take that coffee across the street. Table nineteen on the outdoor terrace. Fast. If you can handle one customer, I'll consider you."

"That's it?" I blinked.

The moment I was a step close to the door, my phone buzzed, and I decided to check it out, only to discover it was a message from the Doctor.

URGENT: Your mother's situation worsened overnight, and she has been moved to the emergency room.

My heart cracked open.

My breath stuttered.

My legs felt weak.

"No...no, no, no..." I whispered.

Tears blurring my vision.

In that split second, I didn't see the raised curb.

My shoe caught. My arm jerked, and the world tilted.

The coffee flew slowly and exploded upward and splashed across a man's gray suit who was coming into the cafe.

I froze.

He froze.

"Oh. "My God," I breathed. "Sir, please, I'm sorry." The words came out without my notice.

He raised his head slowly.

Sharp jawline. Storm dark eyes. His gesture made the whole pedestrian pause and watch the film, which I had just played. His presence sucked the air out of the street.

Alejandro De La Vega.

I recognized him instantly, the most popular and dangerous billionaire in the city of Mexico. He is the heir to De La Vega enterprises.

"What," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "what did you just do?"

The sound of his deep voice sent my brain reeling due to how silky it sounded. He washed over me slowly as I murmured, "I'm...sorry...sir." In a stammering voice. I didn't mean it; it was an accident.

"Do you know how much this suit cost?"

I flinched with my eyes blown wide and my heart beating wildly against my ribs.

Alejandro exhaled slowly-dangerously. Like a man controlling an explosion.

Then he dropped his gaze toward me.

I swear the temperature dropped.

"You," he said, voice low. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

My throat tightened. "I-I'm so sorry. Please, I didn't mean-"

"You ruined a date that was worth more than your annual income.

Ouch. "I tripped," I tried to explain. "It was an accident.

"Accidents," he said, stepping closer, "are what children make. Not adults."

His voice scraped something raw inside me.

Anger. Embarrassment. Fear.

People were staring. Whispers filled the cafe.

"Look, I'll pay for the dry cleaning," I blurted. "Or-or the shirt. Just please let me explain."

He laughed-but there was no humor.

Only ice.

"This shirt," he said, flicking it with two fingers, "costs more than you make in a month."

I swallowed hard.

His eyes flashed.

"You should watch where you're going instead of-"

He stopped.

Because my phone buzzed again, still open in my hand.

The doctor's message glowed on the screen.

He glanced at it, and something flickered across his face-curiosity? Judgment? I couldn't tell.

I quickly lowered the phone, cheeks burning.

He stepped even closer, invading my space.

"For someone this distracted," he murmured darkly, "you shouldn't be carrying hot drinks."

That should've made me apologize again. Instead, something inside me snapped. "I said it was an accident," I hissed. "I didn't fling coffee on you for fun."

Something changed in his expression-a spark.

Interest? Annoyance? Both?

"What's your name?" he demanded.

"I-I don't see how that's relevant."

"It's relevant," he said, "because I don't like not knowing the name of the person who just cost me a multi-million-peso negotiation."

My mouth fell open. A date... was a negotiation?

Then again, men like him don't date-they strategize.

He stepped closer, voice dropping so low it scraped along my skin.

"So. Name."

"...Isabella," I whispered. His eyes lingered on me.

Too long. Too intensely.

"Well, Isabella," he said softly but chillingly, "I always repay the people who inconvenience me."

My stomach dropped. "That's not necessary-"

"Oh, it is," he murmured. "You'll see me again."

Why did that sound like a threat? Before I could respond, a black car pulled up beside him. The driver rushed out, horror spreading across his face as he saw the coffee-stained suit.

"Sir-"

Alejandro raised a hand, silencing him.

Then he gave me one last look-sharp, unreadable, dangerous.

And he got into the car.

It pulled away, leaving me trembling in the street, holding an empty coffee cup and a broken job interview.

When I stumbled back into the café, the manager pretended to be polite.

"You embarrassed us," she snapped. "And you made a scene."

"I didn't-"

"You're not hired."

Those three words crashed over me like cold water.

I walked out of the café in a daze, fighting the burn behind my eyes.

Failed interview. Destroyed suit. Angry rich man.

Sick mother waiting for hope I couldn't give.

My world felt like it was collapsing. I sank onto a bus-stop bench and pressed my hands against my face.

What else could go wrong today?

I didn't know. But

The universe sure did.

I remember the last word Alejandro whispered: "Isabella Ramirez." Let's see who you really are."

Chapter 2 Accidents are what children make. Not adults

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