As an elementary school principal, Gwen Stanton was used to having few surprises in her everyday life. She couldn't even dream that, on that fateful morning, she would come face to face with a young billionaire, a vision from her past. And bound forever, however unwittingly, to the most important part of her life.

Gwen was twenty-seven, the mother of one, and the youngest director in the state. Though she had made an enviable career, she wasn't exactly known for playing by the rules. Thanks to the recent loss of funding for the interactive whiteboards, simply because she had disagreed with the donor's political views, she was now in a bind. So, she couldn't turn her nose up at the recent donation opportunity she had just heard about.

And she would meet with the interested party that very day. Gwen looked at the secretary in disbelief when she received the unexpected news.

"Sorry," said Amy, her normally efficient secretary. "I thought you knew. I left the report on your desk last week."

"Last week! For so long? How could I have forgotten about that?" Gwen worried. She was a perfectionist and hated being caught off guard. She walked over to her desk and sat down before taking a deep breath. "Well, I should prepare myself if they plan to show up this morning.

What details can you give me?"

Gwen's eyes widened as Amy could only provide vague details. Even so, one thing was certain: Gwen needed to make this work. The school needed that boost and she was in charge of it. Or she could kiss her job goodbye.

As a woman who has overcome many personal trials to get to where she is, Gwen wasn't about to risk throwing it all away. She would get around his atrocious temper and make sure the project with the donors got off to an immediate start.

***

Trent Matthews stared straight ahead, his mind somewhere other than the passenger seat of his Mercedes. At the front were the driver, and beside him was Trent's secretary, Edmund. Sitting with Trent in the back was his aide and head of security Max Warner. Lately, Trent was lost in thought more often than usual.

Six months after losing his wife to cancer, he still felt those dark moments of despondency. They never lasted long, but they created a strange abyss where her heart should be. How long would it take for everything to become an infinite black hole?

Trent hid a deep sigh. It was too early to feel melancholy. One would think that he was heartbroken over his wife's death, but that was far from the case. They'd bonded during their battle with cancer, but before that he'd known the only reason she'd married him was because of his wealth.

He missed her as a friend instead of a lover.

And if there were moments when he felt a twinge of loneliness, he would engage in brief, discreet relationships with like-minded women. No questions asked, no demands made—and definitely no bonding. As for romance, he wasn't interested. The loss of his wife and long struggle with her illness had been a sign to Trent that marriage wasn't for him.

Putting those musings aside, he looked away from the scenery passing by outside his window and broke the silence in the Mercedes. “What's my agenda for today?” he asked the secretary.

Edmund immediately replied, turning around.

your seat and reading the items on your tablet screen. "Certainly, sir. This morning you will attend a meeting to raise funds for a school in the city. You will have lunch at the Historic Center. In the afternoon, you will be at the press building for your press conference.

Then there is a dinner with the youth group in Chelsea. And then…"

Trent let out a long breath. "You're going to kill me at that rate."

Edmund let out a small laugh. "Well, you have to

all of that, sir."

"Fine, fine," Trent muttered. He turned and looked at the man sitting next to him. "Max?"

"Yes, Mr. Matthews?" Max dutifully asked as he glared at his boss.

When the boss asked him if he had any cigarettes, Max was disconcerted, although he didn't let his expression show any reaction. In the next moment, he spoke on his communicator with the driver, asking the car to stop in a quiet place.

Soon the car was parked on a road shaded to the side by trees, with the skyscrapers of the city in the background. Trent was now sitting alone with Max in the car, while the other occupants had gotten out to a safe distance, along with the security team from the other car that accompanied them.

Trent saw the security men standing by the car, their backs to them, and wondered what they must be thinking. They were probably wondering what trouble their boss would get into this time.

Well, the last few months had been pretty hectic for Trent Matthews, CEO and heir to a billion-dollar transportation conglomerate fortune.

Max turned to Trent with a nod. "This car is safe, Mr. Matthews. You may speak freely," he said, indicating that there was no chance his conversation would be overheard or recorded.

Trent had every need to be cautious. He had just gotten away from one scandal and didn't need another.

He was already seen as a tough recluse, and going back to work the day after his wife's funeral hadn't helped his image. Newspapers chastised him and companies had threatened to jump ship. Trent only made matters worse when he thoughtlessly made a scathing comment about a popular blogger's work ethic. Well, shit was thrown to the fan and since then, Trent has been in charge of making himself approachable again.

Trent never really knew what it was like to be a good guy in front of an audience. He had just focused on business and hadn't been concerned about popularity. Unlike his wife, who insisted that feats like being a doer of good deeds, a fashion and beauty icon, and marrying into the Matthews lineage earned her a glittering reputation.

Trent had begun to realize lately how important it was to maintain a good image with the public after nearly losing some profitable trades. It was now up to his team to fix things, and they believed helping students in need would be a good place to start.

He couldn't help but smile as he looked at

the ever-watchful Max. "Today's next meeting with the principal got me thinking about the last time I was in school." He didn't continue, and simply remembered the great mystery of his life: the high school sweetheart who had disappeared after the start of senior year.

"I'm pathetic, aren't I?" he asked aloud, more rhetorically than anything else. "Six years of marriage ended like this. I couldn't even be a good widower, and I managed to get involved in a scandal shortly after my wife's death. Wherever she is, she must be laughing at all the fuss. that I created."

Max shifted slightly in his seat, but didn't make any other response.

"Max," Trent said, his gaze turned away as his bodyguard straightened attentively and waited. "I know Hailey's family is watching my every move," Trent added. "I can't be sure which of them acted against me, even before my wife died. They would do anything to bring me down, almost as if they blamed me for what happened to her."

"It's been a few months since you visited her grave, sir. Do you want me to take you there this week?"

Trent turned and looked at Max. "You know I can't do this right now. I need to focus on this whole image change. The company president election is coming up and I have to be prepared."

Max nodded, not saying that a visit to his late wife's grave might actually look good for the media.

What Trent couldn't forget was that his wife

Hailey had been buried next to their daughter Sara. He wasn't ready to face those memories head on in the situation he found himself in, neither mentally nor emotionally.

"No need to worry, sir," Max said firmly. "No matter what happens, I'll keep things running smoothly until then."

Trent took a deep breath, feeling much older than his twenty-eight years. Finally his lips moved into a small smile as he thanked Max, the only person he could trust at that moment.

Trent was tense, and any chance of something going wrong could cause him to explode beyond repair. He would avoid any kind of aggravating situation or something could happen. He had spent many years trapped in a lie, and he wondered if he would ever feel gratitude for life, and if he would ever find a chance to breathe easy again.

***

Gwen passed a distinguished and professional image through the halls, dressed in a fitted skirt and blazer that reached knee length. Her hair was up in a bun and her heels were practical enough without being dowdy. She still had a slim figure after giving birth to Jonah eight years ago. For someone under thirty, her presence and stature commanded respect, and there was no doubt that she was the authority figure at that successful elementary school.

As the youngest headmistress in the school's history, her beauty was also recognized, considering she could pass for a model, with a tall, slender figure and smooth, smooth skin. Her oval face was enhanced by refined features and bright brown eyes, while her nose sat beautifully above her full lips.

It had been a long time since Gwen had bothered to notice any undue attention to her appearance. She was more interested in addressing the lack of resources as well as improving the school's ranking in the district.

Glancing at her watch, she checked the time and quickened her pace. If she took any longer, she would be a few minutes late for her appointment with the donor, and she couldn't be so discourteous. In her mind, she pictured a middle-aged man or woman with a kindly demeanor and a genuine interest in the students' well-being. And not just someone wanting to promote their own personal manifesto. It had to be all about the kids, or Gwen wouldn't go along with it.

With a new determination in her demeanor, Gwen made her way to the boardroom conference room, where the meeting would take place.