Chapter Two
552 Words
The Encounter
Life had changed.
When Joy’s friends packed their bags and left for universities, she stayed behind. Their dreams soared higher while hers crumbled with her father’s empire. Education had slipped through her fingers like sand, leaving her with only one option: work.
The restaurant wasn’t glamorous. It was survival.
The first day she tied the apron around her waist, she thought her chest would split with shame. She had grown up being served at tables like these — polished wood, golden chandeliers, customers with soft voices and heavy wallets. Now she was the one weaving between chairs, balancing trays, plastering smiles that never reached her eyes.
The work was exhausting. The rich were demanding. The pay was small. But every coin went to her father’s medicine and the debts pressing on their necks like an iron chain.
“Joy, hurry with table six!” her manager barked, snapping her out of thought one evening.
She grabbed a tray and forced her legs forward. Table six — the private section. She pushed open the velvet curtain, her breath catching before she even understood why.
He was there.
A man in a black suit, sharp and precise, sat with an elegance that seemed carved out of power itself. His posture was relaxed, but his presence filled the room, making the air heavier, thicker. His companions spoke quietly, their voices respectful, as if afraid to disturb him.
Joy’s gaze flickered up just once, and her heart stumbled. His eyes. They were dark, piercing, the kind that could see more than what was shown. For a moment, their eyes met — just for a second — and something strange rippled through her chest.
Quickly, she lowered her head, forcing her hands not to shake as she set down the tray.
“Your order, sir,” she murmured.
The man leaned back, his gaze lingering on her longer than it should have. She could feel it, heavy and searching. Not cruel, not kind — just… curious.
Joy didn’t dare meet his eyes again. She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her.
“What’s your name?”
She froze. Customers rarely asked. She hesitated, then answered softly, “Joy.”
The corners of his mouth curved, just slightly. “Joy.” He repeated her name slowly, as if testing how it tasted on his tongue.
She gave a small nod and hurried out of the room, her pulse racing.
Back in the kitchen, she leaned against the counter, trying to calm her breathing. Why had his stare unsettled her so much? He was just another wealthy man, another customer who would forget her the moment he left. And yet… something about him felt different.
Something about him felt dangerous.
What she didn’t know was that the man at table six was Damian Volkov — the Devil’s Son. The very man who had ruined her father’s life.
And what neither of them knew was that fate had just quietly tied a knot around them, pulling them into a story that would change everything
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