The Nixon City Business Summit had never seen a crowd quite like this one. Five hundred of the region's most influential business leaders filled the Grand Ballroom of the Meridian Hotel, their conversations creating a low hum of power and ambition that seemed to vibrate through the crystal chandeliers overhead.Jane Richardson stood backstage, smoothing her navy Armani blazer and checking her appearance in the mirror one final time. This presentation could save everything. After weeks of watching Emrand Enterprise's stock price plummet and partnerships evaporate, she finally had good news to share."Ladies and gentlemen," the summit coordinator announced through her earpiece, "you're on in two minutes, Ms. Richardson."Jane nodded, running through her talking points one last time. Three major companies had agreed to new partnerships with Emrand Enterprise. The contracts were signed, the press releases prepared. Today, she would announce Emrand's dramatic recovery to the business commu

Jane couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Mac's face from the business summit, calm, collected, watching her world fall apart like he was observing the weather.At 3 AM, she gave up on sleep and opened her laptop. Frank Morrison's email was waiting with a subject line that made her stomach drop: "You're going to want to see this."The first photo hit her like a slap. Mac and Shirley walking into Le Bernardin, the fancy French restaurant Jane had begged him to take her to for their anniversary. "We can't afford places like that," he'd said, looking genuinely sorry. "Maybe someday when things get better."But there he was in the photo, wearing a suit that probably cost more than Jane's car, escorting Shirley like she was a princess. Shirley glowed in a midnight blue dress that screamed expensive, her arm linked through his like she belonged in his world."He could have afforded it all along," Jane whispered to her laptop screen, the betrayal cutting deeper than she'd

The Nixon City Annual Charity Gala was the social event of the year, and Jane had paid eight hundred dollars she couldn't afford for a last-minute ticket. The Grand Ballroom sparkled under crystal chandeliers, filled with the city's most powerful and wealthy citizens dressed in designer gowns and tuxedos that cost more than most people's cars.Jane stood near the entrance in a black cocktail dress she'd worn to three previous events, feeling increasingly out of place among women dripping in jewelry that could fund small countries. She'd spent two hours on her hair and makeup, trying to recapture the confidence she'd once felt at events like this when she'd been Mrs. Mac Clement, back when she'd thought that title meant nothing.Now she understood exactly how much it had meant.She spotted Mac immediately, even from across the crowded ballroom. He stood near the VIP section, magnificent in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, commanding attention without seeming to try. Beside him, Shirle

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Mac's home office as Shirley organized the scattered documents from their late-night work session. She'd woken early, unable to sleep after their conversation about childhood fears and the feeling of not being enough. Something about Mac's vulnerability had stayed with her through the night, making her see him in an entirely new light.As she gathered financial records and legal briefs into neat piles, her fingers brushed against a familiar manila folder, the one containing her original employment contract with Mac. She'd signed it in desperation weeks ago, barely reading the dense legal language in her rush to secure the money for her father's care.Now, with time and a clearer head, curiosity got the better of her.Shirley opened the folder and began reading through the contract more carefully than she had that first night. The initial sections were standard, job duties, confidentiality requirements, the exclusivity cl

The aroma of beef stew filled Robert Chen's modest apartment as he made final preparations for what he suspected might be the most important dinner of his daughter's life. He'd spent the afternoon cooking Shirley's favorite meal from childhood, tender beef, carrots, and potatoes simmered in rich gravy, served with fresh bread he'd baked himself.The contrast between his simple two-bedroom apartment and the luxury penthouse where Shirley had been staying wasn't lost on him. Mismatched furniture from garage sales, family photos in discount store frames, a kitchen table that wobbled slightly despite his best efforts to fix it. This was the real world, the honest world, and Robert wanted to see how Michael Clarke handled being outside his usual environment of wealth and privilege.At exactly seven o'clock, the doorbell rang. Robert opened the door to find his daughter glowing with happiness beside a man who looked like he'd stepped out of a magazine. Mac wore perfectly tailored dark jeans