Chapter 1: A Chance Encounter

Racheal Monroe tightened her apron around her petite frame, brushing away a stray lock of hair as she balanced a tray of coffee cups. The cozy café was bustling as usual, filled with the murmur of conversations and the comforting aroma of roasted beans. It was just another ordinary day—or so she thought.

The bell above the door jingled, signaling a new customer. Racheal barely looked up as she delivered a cappuccino to a corner table. But when she turned, her breath hitched.

Standing at the entrance was a man who seemed out of place in the modest café. His sharp navy suit fit him like a second skin, exuding wealth and power. His dark eyes scanned the room with a cold precision, and his perfectly styled hair gleamed under the warm lights. He held an umbrella, droplets of rain sliding off its surface onto the floor.

Racheal quickly averted her gaze, focusing on wiping down the counter. Men like him didn't belong in places like this, and she didn't have time to deal with anyone who might bring drama into her quiet life.

"Excuse me," a deep voice interrupted her thoughts.

She looked up, startled to find the man standing right in front of her. Up close, he was even more intimidating, his presence commanding the small space.

"Yes?" she asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.

"I need a table. Somewhere quiet." His voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it, like he wasn't used to making simple requests.

Racheal glanced around the crowded café. "It's pretty full right now, but there's a small table by the window."

He raised an eyebrow as if her answer wasn't satisfactory, but he nodded and walked toward the table. His movements were fluid, calculated, like a predator surveying its territory.

As Racheal prepared his order—a simple black coffee—she couldn't help but sneak glances at him. He had pulled out a sleek laptop and was typing away with a frown.

"Here you go," she said, placing the cup on the table.

"Thank you," he replied curtly, not bothering to look up.

Racheal rolled her eyes as she walked away. Typical rich guy, she thought. Probably thinks he's better than everyone else.

But the truth was, Francis Carter had noticed her. From the moment he stepped into the café, the petite waitress with the calm demeanor had caught his attention. She wasn't like the women who usually threw themselves at him. There was something refreshing about her indifference, something intriguing.

As the rain poured outside, Francis found himself stealing glances at Racheal as she moved around the café. She had no idea that this ordinary day was about to change both of their lives forever.

End of Chapter 1