Spencer Martin had been expecting Noelle Kelley’s visit ever since Damir Palmer tipped him off. He'd never met the heiress in person, but he'd certainly heard the buzz around her and Patrick Jordan's so-called fairy-tale wedding. The public loved reading into every glance they exchanged in photographs, spinning stories left and right—though nobody could deny they made one hell of a good-looking couple. Patrick had the kind of face that made other men green with envy, while Noelle's polished beauty had made her the subject of endless gossip.

Sitting across from him now, Noelle looked even softer and more captivating without all the bridal fanfare. Her beige wool skirt suit—picked out by her friend Vivian Carter—gave off just the right mix of warmth and professionalism. As Vivian had put it, she was old enough to dress with a little more authority.

Maia Castro, Noelle's new assistant, couldn't help but notice how glued Spencer’s eyes were to her boss—like he was straight-up awestruck. She quickly pulled the contract from the folder and slid it across the table. “Mr. Martin, this is the partnership agreement. We were going to send it to your office, but Ms. Kelley thought it best to hand-deliver it.”

Spencer snapped back to reality, nodding a little too eagerly. “It's our first time meeting. I don't recall ever seeing Ms. Kelley around the Kelley Group.”

His tone was polite, but his gaze kept drifting back to Noelle like he couldn't help himself.

Maia frowned.

By keeping the address formal, Spencer was making it clear that he intended to keep the relationship strictly businesslike. It was a quiet little power play.

Noelle didn't flinch. She just smiled. “I focused on my family after getting married. I've only recently come back to the business.”

Spencer deliberately slowed his speech. “Oh... so you're just now rejoining the workforce.”

“I met your brother, Logan, at a wedding once,” Noelle said, as if recalling a pleasant memory. “You two look strikingly similar—not just in appearance, but in the way you carry yourselves.”

She said it on purpose. She didn't really know Logan Martin that well, but dropping his name casually was part of her game.

Spencer kept his face calm, but inside he was buzzing. Coming from a lesser branch of the Martin family—kind of like Damir's position in the Kelley family—he'd always felt overlooked. Even when he and Logan dressed the same, Logan got praised for his elegance while Spencer felt like the knock-off version. So hearing Noelle say he resembled Logan? That genuinely made his day.

He'd walked into this meeting planning to make Noelle—this so-called frivolous housewife—squirm. But now he was already softening. “My apologies, Ms. Kelley,” Spencer said, and this time it sounded real. “But I can't sign this contract just yet.”

“Why not?”

Spencer kept his tone courteous, but there was no budging him. “I owe Damir a favor. Only he can pull off this project at this price. Besides, you don't exactly have the experience.”

“Oh, a favor to Damir...” Noelle mimicked his tone, nodding like she totally got it.

Just as Spencer thought he'd played this perfectly, Noelle's demeanor went cold. “The favor you're talking about—that's using 'Majestic Estate's' relocation funds to cover your current project's profits, isn't it?”

All the color drained from Spencer's face.

“Ms. Kelley,” he said carefully, “You need proof to throw around accusations like that. What relocation funds?”

Noelle smiled, then nodded at Maia, who set the evidence down in front of Spencer.

Noelle spoke gently, almost kindly. “Do you know why the Kelley Group pulled Damir off the project?”

“'Majestic Estate' has been stuck for ages because of those relocation issues. You really think it's just stubborn villagers holding things up?”

“With how fast this city's developing, time is money. The residents there are itching for developers to pay relocation fees so they can boost the local economy. So Damir's delays—that wasn't on the residents, was it? That was him going around the Kelley Group.”

Spencer flipped through the records, completely speechless. He'd wanted to use his position inside the Martin family to his advantage, but he hadn't signed up for legal trouble. How was he supposed to know Damir was treating those relocation funds like his own personal piggy bank?

Noelle's voice was as gentle as her outfit suggested. “Mr. Martin, if Logan were to find out...”

Spencer caught her meaning instantly. He grabbed the contract Maia had slid over earlier and shoved it toward his own assistant, ordering him to stamp it on the spot. Then he turned to Noelle, pleading. "Let's sign at this price, and please—keep this whole thing confidential. As for the money Damir passed on to me, I'll... pay it back. Gradually."

He'd already spent the cash, so paying it all back at once? Not happening.

Noelle gave Maia another look, and Maia promptly produced a second contract.

Noelle explained, “This is for a different project—similar scale to 'Majestic Estate'. Let's sign at the same rate, Mr. Martin.”

“Alright, alright.”

Spencer agreed without missing a beat.

Using the Martin family's resources to fix his own mess and keep Noelle from exposing him? Seemed like a fair trade.

As she was leaving, Noelle made Spencer promise to keep this meeting with Damir under wraps. The Kelley Group couldn't risk Damir catching wind of their moves.

Spencer nodded. “Thank you, Ms. Kelley!”

And honestly? With the Kelley Group backing him, Spencer felt a little less like Logan's shadow.

*

Leaving Maia to handle the contract details, Noelle headed to Harvest Cafe. She needed outside help with the relocation problem, and Vivian had set her up with an expert.

As she approached the reserved table, she was surprised to find a young man in a checkered shirt and jeans, looking more like a graduate student than a corporate consultant. “You're the expert Logan arranged to brief me?”

The young man stood up suddenly, his six-foot frame towering over her.

“It's you?”

Noelle blinked. “Have we met?”

“Unforgettable!” The words came out through clenched teeth, leaving her completely lost.

He was even more eager than she was, jumping straight into her questions, and she forced herself to refocus.

While Noelle scribbled notes, Jamie texted Logan, demanding to know what the hell was going on.

Logan had made it sound like she needed programming help—but she was asking about relocation logistics.

Logan's reply was short and sweet: “Bro, do me a solid. Vivian asked, and you're the most experienced guy I know.”

Jamie: Traitor—sold out for a pretty face!

Logan: Thanks, man. Vivian owes me dinner now.

*

Not far away, Serena Powell sat in her car, parked on some errand. She'd meant to grab a coffee, but through the cafe window, she found herself completely fixated on the pair inside.

The girl was firing off questions like she couldn't get enough, and the boy—despite his stone-cold demeanor—kept answering with way more patience than his face suggested. Every time something clicked, she'd light up with a warm smile and throw him a thumbs-up.

Watching them, Serena's eyes narrowed, and she pulled out her phone to start recording.

Noelle, what is there to say about you?

So this is why you're so hell-bent on divorcing Mr. Jordan? You're just moving your romantic interest that fast? You knew he'd never feel the same, so you made the smart call and bailed? But honey, don't you realize that if Patrick believes you were unfaithful, he could use it against you in the divorce?

The boy's got some appeal—young, fresh, looks sharp—but compared to Mr. Jordan? Not even in the same league.

After saving the video, Serena scoffed. "What a pathetic little chase—running after a man who doesn't give a damn about her. Shameless!"

Noelle Kelley kept feeling like this stranger was somehow familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on why. Her mind started to drift, and it took a sharp, disapproving look from him to pull her back to her notes. Young as he was, Vivian Carter’s new associate clearly had sharp instincts.

Before they wrapped up, Noelle offered to swap contact info on messaging app so they could follow up later. She scanned his details, and a name blinked onto her screen: Jamie Johnston.

Old memories clawed their way to the surface. Jamie Johnston—her one and only rival back in college. She'd walked into university as the top scorer, convinced she'd own both the classroom and the social scene, until Jamie transferred into the CS department and swept past her in their very first round of exams.

Noelle had bragged to Patrick about being a top student, and that claim got crushed fast. Charley Jenkins, of course, didn't let it slide: "You know, computer science people are quick-witted—they excel at whatever they touch," she'd said, making it clear that Noelle's precious 'top student' image didn't hold up against someone like Jamie Johnston, who was acing almost every subject.

In the semesters that followed, Noelle tried to reclaim her spot at the top. But her attention kept fracturing over Charley and Patrick's growing closeness, and her focus never fully recovered. Eventually, she stopped tracking where she ranked, and her memory of Jamie's win went hazy. Still, Jamie remembered her vividly. But why? She'd never posed any real threat to him.

After they connected on messaging app, Jamie packed up his things and said, "I've shared the key points. Go over them carefully. If you have questions, message me, and I'll get back to you when I can."

Jamie didn't ask for any payment, especially since Vivian had made the introduction. But Noelle insisted on treating him to lunch as a token of thanks. Jamie turned her down politely. "I have other commitments—maybe another time."

"Sure," Noelle said, nodding. "But I won't back out. You can count on it."

Jamie let out a low chuckle. "As the esteemed daughter of the Kelley family—and soon-to-be ex-Mrs. Jordan—I'm sure you wouldn't."

Noelle froze, caught off guard. Was her reputation that widespread? Her background that well-known?

She recovered with a casual grace, sweeping a loose strand of hair behind her ear and offering an easy smile. "As the Kelley heiress, I never dodge my responsibilities. As for being Mrs. Jordan—that title's on its way out."

She caught the skepticism in Jamie's eyes and added, a little dryly, "The divorce is almost final."

With a resigned shrug, she swung her backpack over her shoulder and walked off, looking like she didn't have a care in the world.

Jamie stood there, momentarily speechless. The circles they ran in all knew the story: Noelle Kelley's desperate, all-consuming obsession with Patrick Jordan. How many years had she chased him? And now she was claiming she could walk away?

But something in her demeanor told him she meant it.

***

That afternoon, Noelle buried herself in her notes until the early hours. Jamie's guidance was like a triple shot of espresso—potent and eye-opening. Starting over meant setting aside old grudges, and she planned to learn everything she could from him through real case studies.

She slept until noon, then washed up quickly and headed back to Harvest Café.

On the other side of the street, Patrick Jordan sat in his Bentley, watching Noelle breeze into the café and slide into a seat by the window, clearly waiting for someone. A moment later, a tall young man walked in and joined her. Noelle's face lit up with a smile so radiant it felt like a blow.

Women are so unpredictable, he thought. Days ago, she'd shown up at his office looking utterly forgettable. Now she was dressed soft and pretty—for another man.

The way she leaned in, laughed, worked to charm this kid... it was uncomfortably familiar. It was exactly how she used to try to win Patrick over.

Watching her cozy up to the new guy, Patrick's hands clenched hard in his lap.

Patrick Jordan sank into his thoughts. When was the last time he'd seen Noelle Kelley smile? He'd almost forgotten—that shy girl who used to bend over backward to please him was once the one laughing loudest in any crowd. Now, watching her light up around another guy her age? That got under his skin like a splinter that just wouldn't budge.

Up front, Elina Taylor, his assistant, twisted around in her seat. "Mr. Jordan, should we head in?"

"Not yet," he muttered. He wanted to see just how far Noelle—the girl who always seemed to trip through life—would go for this guy.

Fall was in full swing, and dusk was fast becoming night.

Noelle stepped out of the coffee shop. The sudden shift from the bright interior to the dusk outside made her vision blur, and she staggered backward into Jamie Johnston.

Jamie caught her shoulders, steadying her. "You good?" he asked, all casual.

"Oh, I'm fine. Just got up too fast," Noelle said.

Then, out of nowhere, Patrick came charging across the street, fury written all over his face.

"Noelle!"

Noelle went still. That tone—she knew it inside out. Every time she called out Charley Jenkins, and Charley ran crying to Patrick, that's exactly how he'd bark her name. But she'd been avoiding Charley for days. Even after Patrick left the bistro yesterday, Charley came slinking back, and Noelle gave her the cold shoulder. So what had she done to set him off now?

Maybe he regretted putting their divorce on hold and was suddenly in a rush to get it done? But it was dark out—no way they'd make it to a courthouse tonight.

Patrick closed the distance in a few strides, hand raised like he was about to slap her. Jamie was quicker—he yanked her back just in time, and the blow sliced through empty air.

The wind whistled past her ear. If that hit had connected... yeah, it would've been ugly.

In her last life, she'd refused to leave him, and he'd gotten violent. Now that she wanted out, he was still raising his hand at her?

"Patrick, have you completely lost your mind?" Noelle's eyes went icy, her voice just as cold. "You don't want the divorce anymore? And you dare try to hit me?"

Seeing Noelle—the girl who used to chatter endlessly around him—now sheltered behind another man only made Patrick's blood boil.

He sneered. "Noelle, you cheating little... so this is why you want a divorce? You've already found yourself a new boy toy!"

Noelle blinked. She'd been buried in work for days. What affair?

"Don't play dumb!" Patrick barked, jabbing a finger at the man behind her. "I saw you this afternoon—you couldn't take your eyes off him. And just now you deliberately fell into his arms. Don't think I didn't notice."

Loving stares, accidental bumps—those were the exact moves Noelle used to pull on Patrick to get his attention.

Noelle let out a weary sigh. "You're just as blind as I used to be."

Jamie, annoyed at being called a fling, shot back: "Watch your mouth. I've got nothing to do with her."

"Oh, really?" Patrick scoffed, raking his eyes over Noelle with pure contempt. "But isn't that your thing? Chasing guys who couldn't care less about you? What's next—throwing yourself at some homeless guy under a bridge just because he won't give you the time of day?"

"That's enough!" Noelle cut in.

Jamie wasn't some random guy—Vivian Carter had pulled strings to get him to consult for Noelle. After two days of free advice, he'd already taught her more than she could repay. She wasn't about to let Patrick drag his name through the mud.

Just then, Noelle spotted Elina hovering behind Patrick.

Ah. Now the picture was crystal clear.

"Of course," Noelle laughed, the sound cold. "Patrick, who told you I'd be here?"

Patrick didn't answer. Whoever tipped him off didn't matter—it had nothing to do with her supposed affair.

"It was Elina, wasn't it?" Noelle pressed.

Elina hadn't seen that coming. She flinched without thinking.

As I thought.

Noelle narrowed her eyes, letting the silence linger. Patrick muttered, "Whoever it was—it doesn't change what I saw at the coffee shop yesterday."

Jamie chimed in, his voice flat: "Careful. False accusations come with consequences."

Patrick looked to Elina for backup, but Noelle cut him off. "Elina only showed you a video of me asking questions. Nothing inappropriate in that."

Noelle sounded so sure, so unbothered, that Patrick glanced back at Elina for some kind of answer.

"Elina, why would I dig into your fake degree if I had something to hide?" Noelle's words landed like a bomb.

Elina tried to deny it, but the words died in her throat—her academic records were too easy to check.

Noelle wasn't about to waste another second on scum like this. "Mr. Jordan, I don't know why you always think the worst of me, but frankly, I don't care anymore. Next time you raise a hand to someone, think about who you are. Try it again, and I won't just dodge—I'll call the police and seek a protective order. I'll also ask the court for my share of the marital assets."

With that, she snatched her bag and slid into her car.

Jamie didn't miss a beat. With his checkered shirt, he looked like a clean-cut college kid—sharp features, steady eyes. "Mr. Jordan, if you want to frame your wife for cheating, find someone else. Stay away from me." Then, low enough for only Patrick to hear: "If he ever finds out I've been seen with Noelle, he'd snap my neck..."