CHAPTER 2

Amelia looked at the man holding out his hand to her. His face was a stranger’s — a well-dressed, composed stranger — yet somehow this was supposed to be her father. The man who hadn’t been there when her world fell apart. The man who walked away from her mother without a backward glance, and who hadn’t come back, not for years, not even when her grandmother fell ill.

How could it be this simple now — to move in with him at the drop of a hat — when her whole life had been a messy tangle of promises made and promises broken?

He stood there, wearing a tailored black suit, rich leather shoes, a designer watch glimmering under his shirt cuff — a world away from her small, countryside home, from the simple wooden furniture and gravel path that led to her grandma’s doorstep. His face remained calm, poised — the face of a man who made things happen by simply choosing to. But to Amelia, it seemed distant, hard… a wall.

“I’m not leaving with you.” Her voice trembled just a little, betrayed by her nervousness, but her resolve remained firm. “My life is here, in this place. Whatever you want from me, you’re a stranger. A rich stranger who thinks you can come back into my life after years of silence and expect me to follow you without a second thought.”

Vincent sighed quietly. His eyebrows dipped in regret. “I know… I regret not coming back to check on your mom when I left. If I’d known… if I’d gotten there in time… perhaps I would have gotten to know you… gotten to love you.” His words faltered briefly. “Please… allow me a chance. Let me show you I care.”

Amelia turned away and pressed her lips together, battling her doubts. “I need time… time to get things in order at the house. All this… it’s too much, and it’s happening all at once. I’m not thinking straight.”

Vincent nodded quietly. “I appreciate that. But please…today has been a tough day for you and I feel it would be wrong of me to leave you alone on a day like this. How about this, let’s make a deal. How about you come spend a week with us in the city and if you don’t like it I’ll personally escort you back here?”

Vincent was now doing what he was best at. As a businessman he was a natural born negotiator and deal maker. Something that had brought him to where he stood as the President of Cole enterprises.

“If I convince her to just leave the countryside, then it will be easier to make her stay in the city.” He thought to himself.

“Thomas will take care of everything here while you’re gone.” He nodded toward the well-dressed man who stood nearby, taller and more composed, always vigilant, always ready to obey whatever orders were given. “please… allow me this chance.”

Amelia remained silent for a moment, battling herself, battling her doubts. Finally, reluctantly, she nodded. “Okay… only for a week.”

Relief washed over Vincent’s face. “Thank you.” His voice was quieter now, less a king’s command and more a man’s vulnerable appeal.

With a heavy heart and shaky resolve, Amelia walked toward the sleek black sedan. Thomas opened the rear door for her and nodded respectfully. She slid into the back seat, her hands resting stiffly in her lap, knuckles white beneath her simple black gloves.

As the car glided forward, the countryside fell away and the city rose up in its place — a jungle of metal, glass, and bustling people. The silence outside seemed a dramatic contrast to the riot of questions and doubts battling within her.

How had her life gotten here in just a few hours? From burying her grandmother — the last person who truly cared for her — to this moment… sitting in the back of a rich stranger’s car… a rich stranger who called himself her father.

The car crossed a bridge over a restless river, a literal path from her past into her future. The buildings grew taller, the roads more hectic, the silence less oppressive and more energetic — filled with the rush of city life.

“It’s… huge.” The words fell from her lips in a small voice, more a thought than a statement, a nervous observation made aloud.

Thomas remained silent, his hands steady on the wheel. His face, visible in the rearview mirror, remained impassive, a perfect mask of professionalism.

Some minutes later, the car came to a smooth stop in a bustling part of the city. Large letters were affixed above the entrance to the building in a sleek metal script — Cole Enterprises, a multistory building made of sleek glass and stone. It was taller and more sophisticated than nearly everything in its vicinity.

Vincent opened the rear door and nodded to Thomas. “Take her to the mall. Get her something proper to wear. She can’t go to the house looking like that in wet clothes. And make sure what you get her is worth the Cole name. Ok?”

Thomas nodded, unfazed by the order. “Of course, sir.”

Vincent turned back toward Amelia. “I have some business to attend to in the office. Thomas will take you to do a bit of shopping… before you come home. I’ll see you at dinner tonight. Your sister is excited to meet you as well.”

Sister? That word fell heavy in her stomach. She hadn’t even gotten the chance to absorb the shock of having a father; now there was a sibling, a person who lived in the city, a person who belonged to the world she hadn’t chosen.

Before she could find her voice to question it, Vincent was gone, entering the building under the protective escort of his bodyguards. The vehicle glided away once more.

The city seemed taller, more overwhelming, from the back seat. The buildings rose up around her, not quite touching the heavens, but taller and more majestic than anything back home.

As Thomas opened the car door in the basement parking of the nearby Star Mall, Amelia followed him reluctantly. Inside the building, the feeling of overwhelm deepened. The technology — escalators gliding smoothly up and down, a glass elevator lifting people effortlessly — made her pause in disbelief. She hadn’t grown up with these things; the countryside hadn’t prepared her for a world filled with shimmering storefronts, well-dressed people bustling past, and the rich smell of leather, cosmetics, and expensive fabrics.

She pressed her hands against the glass rail of the escalator and let it carry her upward. The employees whispered as she passed — the rich man’s driver and the country girl who seemed so confused by a simple ride up a flight of stairs.

Thomas walked briskly through the luxury department, ignoring the stares and the barely concealed smirks. “My boss says you get her the latest designs in everything.”

He addressed the department manager in a firm, icy tone, not to be questioned, not to be crossed.

The manager glanced at Amelia and sneered quietly. “Who is she?” His tone seemed to undermine her immediately. “Is it possible your boss sent you to a thrift shop instead?”

“She doesn’t belong here.” The manager nodded toward her unfashionable, worn-out clothes — a simple black cotton dress and leather sandals — marking her as someone who was not meant to inhabit these spaces.

“It’s best if you do what I ask without being nosy… if you want to keep your job.” Thomas remained unfazed, his tone icy.

The manager nodded reluctantly, a nervous tremor creeping into his hands. The Cole family were longstanding VIP clients of Star Mall; it would be a huge scandal if their custom were withdrawn.

The employees fell into a flurry of activity, fetching dresses, shoes, bags — everything Thomas demanded.

“It’s… a lot.” Amelia whispered under her breath, spinning in a rich red midi Gucci dress, slipping into black Christian Louboutin heels, and holding a black Chanel clutch bag. The softness of the fabrics against her skin, the perfect cut of the silhouette — it seemed a world away from her simple country life.

As Thomas remained to carry the rest of her bags — assisted by numerous employees — and led her back toward the car, the department fell into a chorus of gossip.

“I pity her.”

“Poor girl… a country bumpkin thinking rich people care about her.”

“She’s probably just a plaything… a temporary curiosity.”

The words were meant to cut, meant to undermine whatever confidence Amelia was trying to muster in her dramatic transition. But Thomas kept his face forward and his grip firm on the handles of her bags.

He opened the rear door for her once more, ignoring the piercing gossip. Amelia slid into the seat, clutching her Chanel bag against her, unsure of herself, unsure of her future — a future made of luxury and promises, yet filled with suspicion, regret, and a deep, gnawing feeling that this was not a fairytale…