Chapter 2

Just as Tiff was about to launch into another tirade, a sleek black town car pulled up to the curb. The back door opened, and a man stepped out. He was tall, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that probably cost more than my apartment's rent, with styled hair and a smile that was clearly practiced for camera flashes and boardrooms.

It was Liam Vance, in the flesh.

He didn't even glance at me, his eyes went straight to Tiff, his expression a mixture of annoyance and concern.

"Tiff, what's going on? You're making a scene."

Tiff' s demeanor immediately changed, her aggressive posture melting into one of a distressed victim. "Liam, thank God you're here! This woman... she just slammed into me! She was driving like a maniac, and now she's refusing to take responsibility."

Liam finally turned his gaze on me, his eyes sweeping over my simple black slacks and blouse with open disdain. He looked at my face, and for a moment, a flicker of recognition seemed to cross his features, as if he was trying to place me from a photo his father might have shown him. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by dismissiveness.

"Is this her?" he asked Tiff, not even addressing me directly.

"Yes! And she has the nerve to claim she has a dinner meeting with you," Tiff said, her voice full of scorn.

Liam let out a short, humorless laugh. He walked over to me, stopping just a few feet away, looking down his nose as if I were something he'd scraped off his shoe.

"Look, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but the dinner I have scheduled is with Ava Chen, daughter of General Chen. A woman of some standing. You are clearly not her."

His words hung in the air, a direct and public humiliation. He had judged me on my appearance, on my "piece of junk" car, and found me wanting. He had decided, in an instant, that I was a fraud. The crowd murmured, enjoying the drama. The arrogant CEO putting the nobody in her place.

My initial anger began to cool, replaced by a cold, calculating calm. This was better. This was so much better. His arrogance was a wide-open door, and I was about to walk right through it.

I met his condescending gaze without flinching.

"You're right," I said, my voice even. "I'm not the person you expected. But the accident still happened. Your assistant hit my car, and now she's demanding one hundred thousand dollars."

Liam waved a hand dismissively. "The cost of repairs for her car is probably more than that, but Tiff is generous. Just pay her, and we can all forget this unfortunate incident ever happened."

"I don't have that kind of money on me," I said, which was technically true. I didn't carry that much cash.

"Of course, you don't," he sneered.

"But," I continued, cutting him off, "I do expect to be compensated. Your employee damaged my property. And frankly, after this lovely conversation, you've also ruined my evening. I was looking forward to a nice meal."

A slow smile spread across my face. "So here's my counteroffer. You pay for the damages to my car. And you can buy me a new dress. And dinner. Somewhere nice."

Liam stared at me, his jaw tight. He was clearly not used to being challenged, especially not by someone he had already written off as insignificant. Tiff looked like she was about to explode.

"A dress? Dinner?" Liam repeated, incredulous. "You have some nerve."

"She's mocking you, Liam!" Tiff hissed.

I just kept smiling. "Is that a no? I thought a man of your... standing... could afford a simple dinner."

Liam' s face flushed with anger. He saw it as a challenge to his wealth and power, which is exactly what I intended. For men like him, pride was everything.

He pulled out a thick, platinum money clip from his pocket, peeled off a few hundred-dollar bills, and shoved them toward me.

"Here," he spat, the word dripping with contempt. "Go buy yourself something pretty. Consider it a gift. Now get out of my sight before I have security remove you."

The money felt dirty in my hand, a symbol of his belief that anything, and anyone, could be bought and dismissed. I didn't take it.

"I don't want your charity," I said, my voice low. "I want you to pay for what you owe."

As I spoke, I saw Tiff lean in close to Liam, whispering something in his ear while pointing frantically at the crumpled front of her Ferrari. Her words were inaudible to me, but their effect was immediate.

Liam' s eyes widened, then narrowed into slits of pure fury. He strode over to the red sports car, his polished shoes crunching on bits of broken plastic from the headlight. He ran a hand over the damaged fender, his knuckles white.

"The limited edition carbon fiber splitter... it's cracked," he said, his voice a low growl. He turned back to me, his face a thundercloud. "This isn't just a simple repair. That part is custom-made. It's irreplaceable."

He looked at me as if I had personally attacked his family honor.

"You have no idea what you've done," he said, his voice dangerously quiet. "You're going to pay for this. I'm going to make sure you pay for this if it's the last thing I do."

The stage was set. The conflict had escalated from a simple fender-bender to a personal vendetta. He thought he was the one in control. He thought he was the one with all the power.

He was about to get a very rude awakening.