Chapter 2 Strangers Promises

Chapter Two: Stranger's promises

Gold stood at the bus stop with her coat pulled tightly around her and a steaming cup of dollar-store coffee cradled between her freezing hands. It was six-thirty in the morning, and the city hadn't yet rubbed the sleep from its eyes. The sidewalks were still quiet, the air still bitter, and her heart still sore.

She hadn't slept.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Jason's face. His calm, apologetic voice repeated over and over: "I met someone."

Gold took a long sip of the coffee, more for the heat than the taste, and stared out at the road. The bus was late. Of course it was.

A horn honked from across the street, and she looked over just in time to see a sleek black SUV pull up beside the curb. The window rolled down, revealing Leila's smiling face.

"Get in!" she called. "I'm not letting you ride the bus the day after you've been emotionally sucker-punched!"

Gold let out a breath that almost passed for a laugh. She crossed the street and slid into the warm leather seat.

Leila glanced at her. "You look like someone who fought sleep and lost."

"I did," Gold replied flatly.

"Did you at least scream into a pillow or throw something at a wall?"

Gold shook her head. "Nope. I just sat there thinking about all the hours I can't get back."

Leila's hands tightened on the wheel. "I swear, if I see that walking disappointment in court again, I'll trip him. Publicly. In heels."

Gold smiled for the first time in hours. "Please record it when you do."

They drove in comfortable silence for a while before Leila asked the question Gold had been dreading.

"So... what now?"

That was the question, wasn't it?

Gold stared out the window, watching buildings blur past. "I don't know. I've been so busy being Jason's cheerleader, I forgot how to stand on my own. My savings are dry, my rent's due, and my self-esteem's somewhere in a gutter."

"You've got me," Leila said. "And a law degree you helped someone else earn. Maybe it's time to think about what you want. What you deserve."

Gold didn't answer right away.

What did she want?

She wanted to be seen. She wanted to be appreciated. She wanted to be loved in a way that didn't leave her feeling used and discarded.

But more than anything, she wanted to matter.

That thought haunted her through the day at the office. She worked as a legal assistant for a mid-sized firm in Manhattan,typing motions, sorting evidence files, answering phones. Nothing glamorous. Nothing that screamed "dream job," but it paid enough to survive.

Barely.

By lunch, her feet hurt, her head throbbed, and she was one more "Can you get me coffee?" away from quitting.

That's when the letter came.

It wasn't in an envelope, just a crisp ivory sheet tucked between her reports. She assumed it was a misfiled client document,until she saw her name printed across the top in elegant handwriting.

Gold Bennett.

She unfolded the paper slowly. Inside was a message in ink so dark it looked like it had been poured from shadows.

"When someone breaks you, don't glue the pieces back to fit them again.

Come find me at 7 PM.

The Hartwell Lounge.

,D.C."

No explanation. No signature,except those initials.

Gold read it twice more, waiting for logic to return. It didn't.

"Leila," she said, waving the letter. "Do we have a client or contact with the initials D.C.?"

Leila squinted at it. "You mean like... Daniel Copper?"

Gold paused. "Who?"

Leila leaned in, whispering like they were being watched. "Daniel freaking Copper. Billionaire. CEO of Copper International. He's this mythical finance dragon that breathes profit margins and apparently never dates the same woman twice. Why?"

Gold handed her the letter.

Leila read it, blinked, and read it again. "Is this real?"

"I don't even know who he is!"

Leila stared at her. "Wait, you really don't know Daniel Copper?"

Gold shrugged. "Should I?"

"He's... only the most ruthlessly attractive man in a three-piece suit this city has ever seen. If he summoned me to a lounge, I'd be in a ballgown before you could blink."

Gold folded the letter and stuffed it into her bag. "It's probably a mistake."

"Or fate," Leila said dramatically. "Or a very fancy stalker. Either way, you're going."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," Leila insisted. "You got dumped like a tax write-off. You are going to put on something fabulous, go to that lounge, and if this is some rich dude offering you a drink or a job or a marriage proposal,you will not say no."

Gold rolled her eyes. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm right," Leila grinned. "Now go get your mystery billionaire."

At 7:04 PM, Gold stood in front of The Hartwell Lounge,an exclusive rooftop bar with gold-trimmed windows and a velvet rope.

She almost turned around.

But then she thought of Jason.

She squared her shoulders and walked through the door.

Inside, the air was low-lit and elegant, filled with soft jazz and the faint scent of expensive cologne. A hostess approached, but before Gold could speak, the woman smiled and said, "He's waiting for you."

He?

Gold followed her through the lounge to a private corner booth.

And there he was.

Daniel Copper.

Sharp cheekbones. Black tailored suit. A presence that didn't just fill the space,it owned it.

He stood when she approached, offering a hand. "Miss Bennett."

She blinked, stunned by the sheer intensity in his gaze. "You know me?"

"I know enough," he said simply. "Please, sit."

She sat, cautiously. "Why am I here?"

Daniel studied her, eyes dark and unreadable. "Because I need a wife. And I think you might be perfect for the role."

Gold laughed. Then realized he wasn't joking.

"What?"

"I'm offering a marriage," he said calmly, "not for love, but for convenience. You get security. I get discretion. And perhaps... over time, we'll surprise each other."

Gold stared at him.

"You're serious."

"As a contract," he said.

She should've walked away.

But something in her,a mix of heartbreak, curiosity, and the tiniest ember of defiance, whispered, What if this is the beginning of everything you thought you'd lost?