The news spread like wildfire. The Montgomery family officially released a statement that the engagement between Devion and Adele had been terminated. They didn't state why, a strategic silence that only fueled the city's gossip mills. But just that evening, Old Madam Montgomery released another, far more explosive statement. "I am an old lady of 76 with a lot of grandchildren who are all unmarried," it began, a masterclass in public manipulation. "I thought Devion would be the one to give me a daughter-in-law, but..." The implication was a carefully crafted sigh of disappointment. "So I have decided to take a drastic step. I would hand the Gold River Project to any of my grandchildren who gets legally married first. And if within six months none does, I would award the project to a worthy external company."
This undoubtedly caused a big ruckus. The move was wild. The Gold River Project was the single most lucrative development deal in the city's recent history, a land deal that would define the next decade of power in J-City. Devion saw the statement on his screen in his office and slammed his laptop shut in raw annoyance. His grandmother's main aim was transparent: to pressure him and his cousins into building a family, using their ambition as the lever. It only annoyed him further; he didn't expect her to pity him or consider the fact that he was going through a heartbreak, but why use the Gold River Project as a bargaining chip? He really felt like exerting his annoyance on someone at the moment.
Just then, Ethan walked in, his expression a blend of apprehension and duty. "Sir, the information on the blonde lady," he said, and that immediately caught Devion's complete attention. "For some reasons, I couldn't find anything other than these about her, even after using a lot of connections," Ethan continued, his face serious. "Every time I try pushing further, it's like there's an invisible wall in the way." He handed the slim document in his hand to Devion.
Devion's brows furrowed as he opened the file. Indeed, the contents were so sparse, containing no important information. Her name: Miller Kristen. An orphan from a small town in the countryside. Currently lives with a guardian. Was educated, but with no mention of exact educational qualifications. A tomboy and skateboarder who paints graffiti on things, especially skateboards, at the Skateboard Ranch for money. And that was all. This made Devion frown deeply. She had seemed so extraordinary, yet on paper, she looked utterly ordinary. But his instincts, honed in boardrooms and calculating deals, screamed that this was just a cover-up. Many important details had been deliberately cut out, purposely hidden behind a facade of mundane poverty. "Find me her current location," Devion commanded.
Ethan promptly went to work, his mind racing. He was really wondering if his boss had fallen for this new lady and that was why he had decided to break his engagement. But this new lady was just a tomboy from the lower class, so what exactly was so special? He didn't dare say this out loud, though. He soon returned with the information. "Drizzler Skateboard Ranch. It's in downtown J-City, one of the most chaotic neighborhoods," Ethan reported, a note of warning in his voice.
Devion picked his car keys from the desk and stood up, his presence suddenly filling the room. "Postpone all my meetings for today," he ordered.
"Sir... you can't go to the ranch alone. It's chaotic. You should take some security with you," Ethan said immediately, concern overriding his usual deference.
Devion gave him a single, cold look that shut him up immediately. With that, Devion walked out, his tailored suit a stark contrast to the destination he was headed for. Ethan knew how physically strong his boss was, a result of relentless training, but he seriously doubted even Devion could withstand the raw, crazy energy of downtown J-City.
---
This part of the city was indeed chaotic, especially now that it was approaching dusk. The neon signs of cheap bars, pawn shops, and casinos flickered to life, competing with the fading sun. The Drizzler Skateboard Ranch, a concrete jungle of ramps, rails, and graffitied walls, was filled with a wild energy of skateboarders. And it was exactly by this time that Miller got busy, skating through the ranch with her worn leather apron filled with clattering spray cans. She weaved through the crowd, occasionally getting stopped by one or two people for a five-dollar painting on their boards. One could hear them call her "Miles" as she rode past, and she waved or gave a quick, casual shoulder bump in response, a local celebrity in her own right.
Just then, a man with braided hair rolled up beside her on his board, leaning in to whisper, "Miles, you have a guest."
She frowned, her rhythm broken. A guest? "Is it Steph?" she asked, assuming it was her ever-concerned friend.
"No," the man said, peeling a banana. "A man."
That was even weirder. A man. Confusion and curiosity walked to her face. She picked her skateboard up under her arm and walked towards a more secluded part of the ranch reserved for visitors and spectators. She paused mid-stride, her blood running cold on seeing who it was. It was the 'escort.' What was he doing here, looking for her?. He was dressed just like the previous night, in suit and looking so out of this setting. She hurried straight to him, panic making her voice a sharp, hushed whisper. "What are you doing here? And why are you looking for me? I paid you, didn't I?" she asked, her words tumbling out. She only just noticed, with a sting to her ego, that she was way shorter than he was, forced to look up into his impossibly handsome face.
Without a word, Devion slipped his hand into his pocket, fished out her debit card and squeezed dollar bills, and then handed it back to her.
This made her frown in utter confusion. 'Was he rejecting his pay?'. "How about a proper introduction?" he said, his voice cool and so deeply masculine it seemed to vibrate in the air between them.
Miller slapped her own forehead in frustration. "Look, I don't know what game you're..."
Just before she could finish her sentence, Devion beat her to it. "Devion Montgomery," he said, his name dropping between them like a stone in a still pond. "Nice meeting you." He stretched his hand out for a handshake.
And Miller froze up completely, her world tilting on its axis as the name, its weight, and its immense, terrifying implication sank in.