Amelia Reyes had always hated being told no.
It wasn’t arrogance, though people often mistook it for that. It was survival. From the time she was old enough to form sentences, the world had been telling her what she couldn’t do. She couldn’t climb the neighbor’s fence. Couldn’t speak over her older brothers. Couldn’t afford certain schools. Couldn’t dream too big without being reminded of where she came from.
So when Julian Blackwood, the man who had looked at her like she was both salvation and ruin, tried to shut the door on her, she didn’t crumble. She sharpened.
The folded letter had appeared in her campus mailbox the next morning, tucked inside a plain white envelope with his tight, unmistakable handwriting. She’d known what it was even before opening it. The paper crackled as she
