Part 1The Secret in the Shadow

The third year Alan and I were crammed into that tiny apartment was the year the floodwaters took our home.

I buried my face in his shoulder, miserable and shivering.

He told me it broke his heart to see me this way. Then he turned around and donated a hundred million dollars to the city’s relief fund without batting an eye.

On the news, he was Alan Hayes: heir to a dynasty, a philanthropist whose casual generosity was legendary. He was a stranger to me.

I heard the laughter of his friends, the gilded youth of Manhattan’s elite, through the half-open door of the private room.

“All those heiresses throwing themselves at you, and you’re still messing with some broke girl?”

Alan’s handsome eyes, the color of warm whiskey, crinkled at the corners. He let out a low chuckle. “My girl worked three jobs a day just to save up for a ring for me. Can they do that?”

Someone else piped up, their voice sharp. “But what if she actually proposes? Aren’t you getting engaged to Diana Donovan next week?”

“It’s just a game,” Alan scoffed. “You don’t seriously think I’d marry her, do you?” After a pause, his voice dripped with absolute certainty. “Besides, Willow will never find out.”

He didn’t know I was standing right outside the door.

* * *

I had raced through a torrential downpour to find him. My lab coat, soaked through, clung to me like a second skin of ice, the chill sinking into my bones.

But it was nothing compared to the cold shard of his words driving straight through my heart, a pain so sharp it made my whole body recoil.

Inside the opulent room, the conversation flowed on.

“Damn right. She’d lose her mind if she knew.”

“The pretty boy she’s been keeping for three years makes a hundred-million-dollar donation on a whim. You can’t even write this stuff in a movie, hahaha.”

“So, Alan, you’re just gonna shut her down when the time comes?”

Alan gestured for the waiter to open another bottle of champagne, his voice a casual drawl. “Shut her down? Why would I do that? I’m not done playing with her.”

He stroked his chin, a thoughtful look on his face. Then, a wicked, playful smile spread across his lips, making the small mole near the corner of his eye seem even more vibrant. “You know, I was thinking… maybe I’ll break up with her first. Just to scare her a little. After all,” he said, his voice mock-serious, “a guy making three grand a month can’t hold her back, right?”

“You’re playing with fire, man. What if she actually leaves?”

“You don’t know Willow,” another voice chimed in, smug. “He’s tried breaking up with her how many times? And every single time, she’s the one crying, begging him to take her back.”

Alan clearly savored that, lazily raising his glass in a toast to the speaker, who puffed up with pride.

Then, someone else clicked their tongue. “That’s just pathetic. Like some stray dog nobody wants, just begging to get screwed over for free…”

Outside, I couldn’t listen anymore. I dragged my leaden feet away, my heart a hollow drum. My hand went to my pocket, and when my fingers brushed against the small, velvet ring box, I snatched it back as if I’d been burned.

Behind me, the boisterous room fell silent.

Alan, one arm draped over the back of his chair, swirled the champagne in his glass. His face was a blank mask as he leveled a cold, sideways glance at the man who had just spoken.

Everyone watched him, the air thick with tension. They were all part of the city’s elite, but there were levels to this game. The Hayes family was practically New York royalty, with influence stretching from Wall Street to Washington. And Alan, groomed by the old patriarch himself, was the heir apparent. No one dared to cross him.

“Alan, man, I’m sorry. I was drunk, I shouldn’t have said that about your girl,” the guy, Rick, stammered, slapping his own face in a clumsy show of remorse.

Others jumped in to smooth things over. “You idiot, don’t you know she’s a researcher at Columbia? A bona fide genius. You’re not worthy of even speaking her name.”

Only when a red welt began to form on Rick’s cheek did Alan speak, his voice soft but edged with steel. “That’s enough.”

He leaned forward. “You’re from the King family, right? Pharmaceuticals?”

Rick nodded vigorously.

Alan leaned back, propping his cheek on one hand while casually gesturing with his glass. “Columbia’s been doing some interesting research lately…”

“I get it, Alan, I get it!” Rick cut in, tripping over his words. “Thank you for the opportunity to… uh… show my respect. For Willow.”