Page 5

The morning after the gala, Amara sat in her small apartment, nursing a cup of coffee as she scrolled through her phone.

She'd hardly slept, replaying her performance and her embarrassing stumble over and over in her mind. But it wasn't just the fall that had kept her up; her unexpected interaction with Liam Blackwell lingered, too.

His words, his steady gaze, the way he'd spoken to her without a hint of condescension-it all unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

When she'd returned home last night, she couldn't resist a quick search for his name.

She'd recognized him vaguely, but she'd never paid attention to the business world enough to know why he seemed familiar.

Yet now, curiosity pulled her back.

The search results were endless.

Liam Blackwell, a name that popped up in financial news, philanthropy articles, and industry reports.

As she scrolled through the headlines, she was surprised to see his name alongside words like self-made, tech innovator, and philanthropist.

Liam Blackwell wasn't just wealthy; he was something of a phenomenon. A story from a magazine interview caught her attention, and she clicked on it, skimming quickly until a few sentences made her pause.

"Liam Blackwell built his empire from scratch. After dropping out of college, he started his first tech company with almost no capital, working late nights and struggling to get by. Through grit and risk-taking, he turned it into one of the most successful startups of the decade. Blackwell's journey is a testament to resilience and perseverance."

She frowned, feeling a pang of something close to guilt as she remembered the way she'd dismissed him. He wasn't just another businessman born into privilege.

In fact, his story wasn't all that different from her own-just in a different arena. While she had poured everything into skating, he'd done the same in his own field.

Perhaps that's why he'd seemed so.

.

.

genuine.

But then she shook her head, crossing her arms defensively.

That doesn't change anything, she thought. Just because he had faced challenges didn't mean he understood what she was going through.

Her skating career wasn't something he could relate to; his accomplishments didn't carry the same pressures she faced in the public eye.

And yet, reading about his journey stirred something in her-a grudging respect.

As she closed the article, she noticed another photo from the gala circulating online, a candid shot of her mid-performance with a caption that sent a flash of embarrassment through her: Local skater Amara Taylor struggles through a fall at last night's charity event.

She put her phone down, disgusted.

This was exactly why she didn't want to be noticed for anything less than perfection, and last night had felt like a step backward. She would work twice as hard now, push herself to the limits, and prove that last night was nothing more than an anomaly. And if she ever crossed paths with Liam Blackwell again, she would show him her true strength, without needing his encouragement or sympathy.

But, despite her resolve, she couldn't quite shake the image of him standing there in the dim alley, offering her those steady words of reassurance. There was something about him that made her wonder. Against her better judgement, she found herself hoping-just a little-that their paths might cross again.