Chapter 1 Coffee,chaos and a car crash

The scent of freshly ground coffee beans drifted through the cozy café as Anna Hartley wiped the counter for the third time that morning. Rain tapped steadily against the windowpanes, turning the world outside into a blur of gray and silver. It was quiet-the kind of morning that stretched too long and promised nothing exciting. She liked it that way. Predictable. Safe.

"Next order!" Linda called out from behind the espresso machine, snapping Anna out of her daze.

Anna turned to grab the tall cup just as the bell above the front door jingled. A man walked in, tall and broad, shoulders hunched beneath a soaked hoodie. He looked like he hadn't slept, or maybe he just didn't care. His gait was confident, lazy even, like someone who had nothing to prove to anyone.

"Large Americano," he said, voice low and gravelly.

She met his eyes for a brief second as she scribbled down the order. There was something sharp and unreadable in them-like this guy had seen more than he ever talked about.

Anna turned back to Linda, who was already reaching for a paper cup. But in her haste, Linda bumped the edge of the counter. The cup tilted. The coffee spun. And a second later, it splashed straight across the man's chest.

"Oh my God!" Anna gasped. "I am so, so sorry!"

The man stepped back, pulled off his hood and sunglasses, and stared at her. Sharp jawline. Perfectly tousled dark hair. Eyes that pinned her in place. He looked like the kind of man who didn't smile easily-and rarely had to repeat himself.

"Is this how you treat your customers?" he asked, voice full of annoyance.

"It was an accident," Anna said, flustered. "I was literally apologizing."

"You should be more careful."

Something about the tone made her temper flare. "Maybe you should be more awake when you walk into places. Just a thought."

The man blinked. Then, to her surprise, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He said nothing more. Just turned and walked out into the rain, hoodie dripping.

Linda leaned over the counter. "Do you know who that was?"

Anna frowned. "Rude hoodie guy?"

Linda stared at her like she was from another planet. "That was Jake Blackwell."

Anna blinked. She'd heard the name before-somewhere. Maybe in a news article about Blackwell Enterprises. But she didn't follow the lives of the wealthy. Why would she? Her world existed far below theirs.

---

Her shift ended just after noon. Rain still poured as she stepped outside, tugging her hoodie over her head. The wind nipped at her cheeks as she boarded the bus toward home.

The apartment she shared with her mother was on the third floor of a worn-out brick building. The stairwell smelled of damp carpet and cheap detergent. She unlocked the door and stepped inside.

"Mom? I'm home," she called.

Her mother appeared from the tiny kitchen, wearing her apron and a tired smile. Margaret Hartley was a woman carved by resilience-her once fiery red curls now streaked with gray, her posture slightly stooped from years of double shifts and unpaid bills. The apartment reflected her spirit: tidy, despite its age, and filled with secondhand furniture polished to a shine. She hummed softly when she cooked and found joy in small things-a warm cup of tea, a good book, or Anna's stories from the café. "Hey, sweetheart. You're soaked."

Anna dropped her bag and peeled off her hoodie. "Rough day," she muttered.

Her mother poured her a cup of hot tea and they sat together at the small dining table. For a few minutes, they said nothing. It was their way-quiet comfort in the middle of chaos.

"Anything good happen today?" her mother asked eventually, gently blowing on her tea.

Anna sighed. "I spilled coffee on a guy. A very rude guy. Apparently, he's rich. Linda knew who he was, but I had no idea."

Her mother chuckled softly. "Only you would end up throwing coffee on a millionaire. Was he handsome?"

Anna gave her a dry look. "Too handsome. And too smug. The kind of guy who thinks the world owes him something."

Margaret smirked. "Sounds like the type who needs to be taken down a peg. And you, my dear, have a gift for that."

Anna laughed, the tension in her shoulders easing a little. "Well, it definitely wasn't my proudest moment."

Margaret leaned forward. "Don't let people like that get to you. He probably walked out of there with a bruised ego and a story to tell. Meanwhile, you kept your dignity."

"I guess," Anna murmured.

They sipped their tea in silence for a moment. Then her mother added, "I know things are tough. And I hate that you've had to carry so much. If your dad were still here-"

"Mom," Anna cut in gently, "don't. You did everything on your own. You kept us together."

"I tried," Margaret whispered. "But I worry I've held you back."

"You didn't," Anna said firmly. "You're the reason I've made it this far."

Tears shimmered in her mother's eyes. She reached over, placing her hand on Anna's. "Then promise me something."

"Anything."

"Don't let the past stop you from chasing your future. You're meant for more than this café job. You're meant for something bigger."

Anna nodded slowly, her chest tightening. "I'll try."

Margaret smiled. "That's all I ask."

---

The next morning, Anna left for work early, the sky still heavy with clouds. The coffee shop buzzed with commuters, and her conversation with Jake played in her head far longer than she expected it to.

By noon, the clouds had burst into another downpour. She stepped outside, tucking her hands into her coat pockets, heading toward the bus stop.

That's when she heard the screech.

Tires.

A car.

Then-a crash.

Anna dropped her umbrella and ran toward the sound. Around the corner, a black car had slammed into a pole. Smoke drifted up from the hood. Her breath caught in her throat.

Someone was inside.

Without thinking, she dashed forward, yanked the door open. "Ma'am?" she shouted. "Are you okay?"

The woman in the driver's seat was older, elegant even in distress. A designer scarf clung to her neck, and diamond studs twinkled in her ears. Blood trickled down her temple. Her eyes fluttered open-then locked on Anna.

There was a long silence.

Then the woman whispered, almost in disbelief:

"You look like someone I once loved."

Anna froze. Her hands shook.

"We need to get you help," she said quickly.

Sirens began to wail in the distance. Anna stayed with her, holding her hand until the EMTs arrived. The woman never took her eyes off her. There was something haunting in her gaze.

As the paramedics loaded her into the ambulance, she whispered again, "Your name, child. What's your name?"

"Anna. Anna Hartley."

The woman nodded faintly. "Of course it is."

Then she was gone.

Anna stood alone in the rain, drenched, heart pounding.

---

That night, Anna sat cross-legged on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her small room in the shared apartment was dim, the glow of the lamp casting shadows on the walls.

Her best friend Maya twirled a spoon of instant noodles beside her. "So let me get this straight. You spilled coffee on some dude. Argued with him. Then pulled a rich old lady from a car crash. And she said you looked like someone she once loved?"

Anna groaned. "It sounds insane when you say it like that."

"No, babe. It sounds like the first two chapters of a best-selling romance novel." Maya raised a brow. "Are you sure you're not the long-lost heir to some secret fortune?"

"Very sure," Anna said, flopping back against the pillows. "If I were, I wouldn't be living off instant noodles with you."

Maya leaned closer, grinning. "But think about it. Mysterious stranger. Rich woman sees you and gets all emotional. What if she's your-"

"Nope."

"-long-lost grandmother?"

Anna tossed a pillow at her. "Can we not turn my very stressful day into a soap opera?"

Maya caught the pillow, laughing. "Sorry, sorry. But something about this feels... big. Like fate big."

Anna stared at the ceiling, her smile fading. "She looked at me like she knew me. Like I was someone important. And when she asked for my name, the way she said it..."

Maya's voice softened. "Maybe this isn't just random."

"I don't know," Anna whispered. "But it felt like the start of something."

Anna didn't reply. But deep inside, something stirred. That woman's voice, her expression-it felt too personal to be random. And what did she mean by 'someone I once loved'?

Somewhere across town, in a mansion built on polished marble and legacy, Jake Blackwell stood in his study. A fire crackled in the hearth. Rain streaked down the tall windows.

His phone buzzed.

She saved your mother.

He stared at the screen.

Then out the window, jaw clenched.

Who was this girl?

And why did she matter?