Chapter 2 The City That Doesn't Care

The city was cold. Not just in temperature, but in attitude.

Avery stepped out of the bus with a single bag on her shoulder, her savings tucked deep inside a worn envelope. The place was loud, the streets busy, and the sky covered in gray clouds. But to her, it was the beginning of everything.

She looked up at the tall buildings that scratched the sky. Everything was unfamiliar, fast, and uncaring. But she didn't flinch.

She had survived worse.

She found a cheap shared dormitory just outside the business district. It was small, dark, and the bathroom door didn't lock. Her roommates were strangers with tired faces and loud alarms. But it was a roof over her head. It was enough-for now.

The next day, she walked the streets with a stack of resumes. No one gave her more than a glance. Some didn't look at her at all.

"Sorry, we're not hiring."

"Experience required."

"We'll call if something opens."

She nodded politely each time, but deep down, her chest ached. Was this what freedom really felt like? A quiet fight with no one to cheer you on?

Still, she pushed forward. She couldn't afford to stop.

---

Two Weeks Later

After countless rejections, Avery finally landed a job at a small candle shop in a hidden alley downtown. The owner, Miss Tilda, was an old woman with sharp eyes and a soft voice.

"You've got quiet hands," she said after watching Avery arrange the new candles. "Gentle. Customers like that."

Avery smiled softly. "Thank you. I'll do my best."

The pay was small, but enough. She started saving immediately-eating crackers for dinner, skipping rides and walking long distances, even sewing her clothes when they tore. She didn't complain.

She had learned to be grateful even for the smallest things.

Working in the candle shop gave her peace. The scent of lavender and vanilla calmed her, the quiet of the shop was like a warm blanket.

But more than anything, it gave her something she had never felt before-hope.

---

One Year Later

Avery had changed.

She now walked with quiet confidence, her hair tied neatly, her face no longer thin from hunger. She still lived simply, but with purpose. What started as a part-time job grew into something more.

Miss Tilda offered her a chance to create her own designs.

"You have a good eye for beauty, Avery. Let's try your ideas," she said, handing her a notebook.

Avery poured her heart into it-designing candles with unique shapes, mixing scents, writing little messages for each one like "You are loved", "Let the light in", "Burn with courage."

People began to notice.

Customers returned, asking for the "girl with the kind hands." Orders doubled. The shop slowly gained popularity. Even a small influencer posted about it once, calling it a "hidden gem of warmth."

That was when Avery had a new dream.

She would open her own store one day.

---

Two Years Later

The dream came true.

It was a small studio space, tucked in a corner beside a bookstore. Avery named it Kindled Soul. She designed everything-from the soft lights to the warm colors on the walls. Each candle was handmade, each scent carefully mixed.

She poured her story into every creation.

People didn't just buy candles-they bought comfort.

The shop became a quiet success. Enough to give her stability. Enough to make her proud.

But the city-unforgiving and fast-paced-was not done with her.

Because one rainy afternoon, everything changed.

---

The Accident

She was on her way to deliver a bulk order to a corporate office uptown. It was raining hard. Avery wore her best coat and carried a large box, carefully wrapped to protect her candles.

She was crossing the street when it happened.

A sleek black car sped around the corner-too fast, too close. Tires screeched.

Avery jumped back, the box slipping from her hands. Candles rolled onto the wet pavement. Her heart pounded in her chest.

The car slammed to a stop inches from her legs.

She froze, breath caught in her throat.

The door opened.

A tall man stepped out, furious.

"Are you blind?!" he snapped, his voice sharp like a knife. "You could've gotten yourself killed!"

Avery looked up, soaked in rain, face pale.

"I was already crossing," she said calmly, trying to pick up her candles. "You were speeding."

He ignored her answer, glaring down at her like she was nothing but an inconvenience.

"You could've scratched my car!"

That was when she looked at him properly-his expensive suit, perfectly styled dark hair, and cold gray eyes.

Arrogance wrapped in flesh.

And despite the situation, Avery spoke without fear.

"Then maybe drive with your eyes open next time."

The man stiffened.

No woman had ever spoken to him like that.

Not in years.

Certainly not someone like her.

---

Their First Clash

He didn't help her pick up the candles. He just stared at her-offended, confused, and strangely...curious.

She placed the last candle back in the box, stood, and brushed off her coat.

"You're lucky none of them broke," she said. "Because if they did, I would've sent the bill to your office."

He raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you think you know where I work?"

"You stepped out of a car with your name on the plate. Damien Wolfe." She pointed to it. "I may not be rich, but I'm not stupid."

Then she walked away, leaving him standing in the rain.

He didn't move. Just stared at her retreating figure.

---

Damien Wolfe

He sat in his office that evening, irritated.

He had no idea why the encounter bothered him. He had yelled at many people before. They usually apologized, looked scared, and walked away.

But she didn't.

She didn't even look impressed by his name.

There was something in her eyes-calm, unshaken, tired but strong.

He couldn't get her out of his head.

Damien Wolfe didn't believe in love.

He believed in control.

But for the first time in a long time, someone made him feel... off balance.

---

Avery (Later That Night)

Back in her studio, Avery sat by the window, watching the rain.

The box was safe. None of the candles had broken. But the image of the man stayed with her.

He was the type of man she avoided-loud, powerful, careless.

But something about him...

The way he stood there. The storm in his eyes. The pain he tried to hide beneath all that anger.

She shook her head.

No. She had no time for men like that.

She had survived too much to be dragged into someone else's darkness.

But fate was already writing their next meeting.

And it would be sooner than she thought.