BLEEDING HEART

CHAPTER ONE THE WRONG PLACE The rain had been falling for almost two hours. Amara stood beneath the broken roof of the bus stop, hugging her worn handbag tightly against her chest as cold drops of water splashed against her shoes. She checked the time on her cracked phone. 7:43 p.m. “Great,” she whispered. Her bus had disappeared nearly forty minutes ago, her phone battery was at twelve percent, and her stomach had been growling since afternoon. She closed her eyes and sighed. It had been another terrible day. Her lecturer had embarrassed her in front of the entire class because she couldn't pay her outstanding school fees. Her part-time employer had called to tell her that they no longer needed her services. And now the rain had decided to finish what the day had started. Amara looked up at the dark sky. “Is this really necessary?” Thunder rumbled. She rolled her eyes. “Okay. I get it.” She laughed bitterly at herself. Maybe she was going crazy. Her life had become a collection of problems with no solutions. She had no rich parents to call. No boyfriend to rescue her. No influential relatives. All she had was herself. And lately, even that didn't feel like enough. A black SUV suddenly sped past the bus stop. SPLASH! A wave of muddy water hit her from head to toe. Amara froze. Her mouth dropped open. For three seconds, she simply stood there, staring at the vehicle as it disappeared down the road. Her white blouse was covered in mud. Her skirt was soaked. Her hair was dripping. She slowly looked down at herself. Then she screamed. “ARE YOU SERIOUS?” The SUV's brake lights suddenly appeared in the distance. It stopped. Amara folded her arms. “Oh, so you can stop now?” The SUV reversed slowly until it returned to the bus stop. The driver's door opened. A tall man stepped out. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his shirt slightly open at the collar. Rain slid down his dark hair as he walked toward her. Even under the terrible circumstances, Amara couldn't deny that he was ridiculously handsome. Sharp jaw. Cold eyes. Broad shoulders. The kind of face that belonged on magazine covers. He stopped a few feet from her. “Are you alright?” Amara stared at him. Then at her clothes. Then back at him. “Do I look alright?” His eyes moved over her muddy clothes. “I suppose not.” “You suppose?” He raised an eyebrow. “I didn't see you.” “You didn't see me?” she repeated incredulously. “I was standing right there!” “I said I didn't see you.” “You nearly drowned me with your car!” His expression remained annoyingly calm. “I apologize.” “Your apology doesn't clean my clothes.” “No.” “And it doesn't fix my evening.” “No.” Amara stared at him. Why was this man so irritating? “Are you always this insensitive?” His jaw tightened slightly. “Are you always this dramatic?” Her eyes widened. “Dramatic?” “Yes.” “You splashed dirty water all over me and I'm dramatic?” “You're shouting.” “Because you ruined my clothes!” He glanced at his expensive wristwatch. “I'll pay for the cleaning.” Amara laughed. Not because it was funny. Because she couldn't believe what she was hearing. “Oh, wow.” “What?” “You think money fixes everything.” His expression changed. Just slightly. Something dark flashed across his eyes. “Usually, it does.” “Well, it doesn't fix this.” She turned away from him. “Have a good night, Mr. Money.” She heard him sigh behind her. Then— “Get in the car.” Amara turned around. “Excuse me?” “I'll drop you off.” She laughed again. “Absolutely not.” “You'll get sick standing in the rain.” “I'd rather get sick than enter your car.” He stared at her. For the first time, irritation appeared clearly on his face. “You're stubborn.” “And you're arrogant.” His eyes narrowed. “Get in.” “No.” “Fine.” He turned and walked back toward his SUV. Amara smiled triumphantly. “Good riddance.” He stopped. Without turning around, he said, “If you die of pneumonia tonight, don't blame me.” She rolled her eyes. “Don't worry. Your conscience is clearly not capable of suffering.” He got into the SUV. The door slammed. Seconds later, the vehicle disappeared. Amara watched it leave. “Idiot.” She wiped rainwater from her face. Then her phone vibrated. Battery: 5%. She groaned. “This day hates me.” --- THE NEXT MORNING Amara walked through the gates of Sterling Heights University with her head lowered. She had barely slept. After waiting another hour at the bus stop, she eventually managed to find a cheaper ride home. She had spent the night washing her clothes and trying to figure out how she would pay her school fees. She was exhausted. But she couldn't afford to miss another lecture. As she entered the main building, whispers suddenly followed her. “Isn't that Amara?” “Yeah.” “I heard she got suspended from the scholarship list.” “Seriously?” “Apparently, she hasn't paid her fees.” Amara pretended not to hear them. She walked faster. She hated pity. Especially from people who had never experienced what it meant to struggle. She reached her classroom and sat at the back. Her best friend, Nia, immediately rushed toward her. “Amara!” Amara looked up. “What?” “You won't believe what I just heard.” “I'm too tired for gossip.” “This isn't gossip.” Nia leaned closer. “Someone important is visiting the university today.” “Who?” “Damien Black.” Amara frowned. The name sounded familiar. “Who's that?” Nia looked at her as though she had just announced that she didn't know what electricity was. “Are you serious?” “Yes.” “Damien Black. The billionaire heir?” Amara shrugged. “I don't care.” “Everyone cares.” “Well, I don't.” Nia lowered her voice. “They say he's one of the youngest and richest businessmen in the country. His family owns Blackstone Holdings.” Amara's eyes remained uninterested. “Good for him.” “And he's coming here to fund a new scholarship program.” Amara's expression changed. “A scholarship?” Nia nodded excitedly. “Apparently, they're selecting a few students.” Amara's heart skipped. A scholarship could change everything. Her school fees. Her accommodation. Her entire future. “Do you know how to apply?” Nia smiled. “I knew you'd suddenly become interested.” Amara laughed. “Shut up.” Before Nia could respond, the lecturer walked into the room. “Everyone, settle down.” The room became quiet. But minutes later, the door opened again. A university administrator entered. Behind him was a man in a black suit. Amara's smile disappeared. Her heart stopped. She knew that face. The cold eyes. The arrogant expression. The man from the rain. Mr. Money. Damien Black. He walked into the classroom like he owned the entire building. Perhaps he did. Amara stared at him. He looked around the room. Then his eyes found hers. Recognition flashed across his face. His lips curved into the faintest smile. A dangerous smile. Amara's stomach twisted. “Oh, no,” she whispered. Damien walked toward the front of the classroom. The administrator began speaking. “Students, I'd like to introduce Mr. Damien Black, CEO of Blackstone Holdings and the sponsor of our new scholarship initiative.” The students applauded. Everyone except Amara. Damien's gaze remained fixed on her. Then he spoke. “I'll be selecting the scholarship recipients personally.” Amara's heart sank. Nia whispered beside her. “This is your chance.” Amara swallowed. She desperately needed that scholarship. But somehow, she knew one thing with absolute certainty. The man standing at the front of the room was going to make her life hell. Damien looked directly at her. And smiled. Their war had just begun.