Chapter 2 - The Morning After
The sunlight piercing through the grime-streaked kitchen window felt blinding the next morning. Savannah woke up with her neck stiff from sleeping half-slouched over the kitchen table, her arm still wrapped protectively around Noah’s crib mattress, which she had dragged into the kitchen to stay near the residual warmth of the oven.
She blinked against the glare, her brain instantly firing up with the crushing anxiety of reality. The electricity. The bills. Harrison Vance.
She sat up abruptly, rubbing her tired eyes. To her utter shock, the hum of the refrigerator was back. A steady, low vibration that meant power had been restored.
Before she could even process that miracle, a heavy, authoritative knock echoed at her front door.
Savannah froze, clutching her worn bathrobe tightly around her throat. She crept over to the door and peered through the peephole. Standing in the hallway were three men in high-vis vests and utility belts, carrying heavy toolboxes and diagnostic equipment, led by a stern-looking foreman wearing a laminated badge that read Vance Global Engineering.
“Morning, ma'am,” the foreman called out through the wood before she could even turn the lock. “Vance Global dispatch. We’re here to upgrade the primary electrical panel for Apartment 3B. Mr. Vance’s direct orders.”
Savannah unlocked the door and pulled it open, staring at them in stunned disbelief. “At eight in the morning? On a Wednesday?”
“When the boss says jump, we check the ceiling height first,” the foreman grinned good-naturedly, stepping past her with a rolling tool chest. “Step back, ma'am. This is going to get loud, but we’ll be done before noon, and you’ll have full smart-grid integration by lunchtime.”
For the next three hours, the apartment echoed with the sound of drills, sawing, and professional chatter. Savannah retreated to the living room with Noah, who was happily cooing and playing with a rattle Harrison's pharmacy bag had conveniently included at the bottom.
As she fed him, her phone buzzed on the coffee table.
An unknown number.
She picked it up cautiously and slid to answer. “Hello?”
“Did they arrive?” Harrison’s voice came through the speaker—deep, crisp, and entirely free of morning grogginess. He sounded like a man who had already conquered three continents before breakfast.
“Yes,” Savannah breathed, pacing toward the window to watch the street below. “They’re tearing my kitchen wall apart. There are sparks and wires everywhere. Mr. Vance... this is entirely too much. I can't let your company remodel my apartment.”
“They aren't remodeling, they’re bringing a hazard up to municipal code,” Harrison replied smoothly. “And call me Harrison. 'Mr. Vance' makes me sound like my father, and he was an insufferable bastard.”
Savannah let out a breathless, involuntary laugh. “Okay. Harrison. Why are you doing this? Seriously. Billionaires don't just swoop into Queens to fix fuses for strangers who text them by mistake. What’s the catch?”
On the other end of the line, there was a brief pause. When Harrison spoke again, his voice had lost its corporate edge, dipping into something heavier, darker.
“Four years ago, Savannah, I was sitting in a freezing office in Chicago with fifty dollars to my name and a payroll that was about to bounce,” Harrison said quietly. “I made a mistake, trusted the wrong partner, and lost everything overnight. I remember what it feels like to look at a refrigerator that won't hum and wonder if the world is going to crush you.”
Savannah stopped pacing. The casual barrier she had built around her heart cracked just a fraction. “You weren't always a billionaire?”
“Empires aren't born overnight,” Harrison said. “They’re built by people who refuse to stay down when the lights go out. Now, look out your window.”
Frowning, Savannah parted her living room curtains and peered down at the street.
Parked directly beneath her window was the same black Mercedes S-Class from last night. The tinted driver's side window rolled down smoothly, revealing Harrison sitting inside, looking up at her building with a sleek tablet in one hand and a black coffee in the other.
He wasn't just managing things remotely; he was sitting outside her building, watching over the operation.
“You’re insane,” Savannah whispered into the phone, a strange fluttering sensation blooming in her chest that she hadn't felt in years.
“I’m thorough,” Harrison corrected, offering a faint, distant smirk from behind his windshield. “And since you’re currently unemployed and your kitchen is a construction zone, I’ve taken the liberty of scheduling an interview for you this afternoon.”
Savannah’s jaw dropped. “An interview? Where? Who authorized that?”
“I did,” Harrison said calmly. “At Vance Global’s New York corporate headquarters in Manhattan. Senior financial analyst auditing coordinator. Pay starts at ninety thousand a year, full health benefits, and on-site corporate daycare.”
Savannah stared down at him through the glass, her breath catching in her throat. “Ninety thousand? Harrison, I haven't worked in a corporate office in over a year! I don't have references, I don't have a suit, I don't even have a babysitter!”
“Your references are my personal guarantee,” Harrison replied smoothly. “As for a suit, there’s a courier currently riding the elevator up to your apartment with a wardrobe package tailored to your measurements. And for the babysitter—Bruno, my head of security, is an ex-Navy SEAL who happens to be certified in infant care.”
Before Savannah could process the sheer absurdity of his statement, a sharp knock sounded at her apartment door.
She walked over in a daze, pulled the door open, and found a delivery man standing there holding a massive, pristine garment bag and a box from a high-end Manhattan bakery.
May you like
“Delivery for Ms. Savannah Brooks,” the courier said politely, handing over the boxes. “Compliments of Mr. Vance.”
Savannah slowly closed the door, slid down the wood until she hit the floor, and looked up at Noah, who was smiling happily from his play mat. Her life had completely derailed in less than twelve hours, and she had no idea whether she was falling off a cliff or ascending into the clouds.
