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When Jasmine’s car collides with Antonio’s, she expects nothing more than an accident report and a headache. But from the moment he lays eyes on her, Antonio is captivated—her beauty, her presence, the quiet fire in her eyes. She’s been hurt before, and love is not something she’s searching for. All she wants is peace, warmth, and a place where she feels safe.

But Antonio is not a man who walks away from what he wants. And from the moment he sees her, he knows—he wants her.

HIS ENDEAVORS

Jasmine exhaled sharply, her pulse hammering in her ears as she stepped onto the pavement. The chill in the air did little to soothe the heat of embarrassment crawling up her spine.

She had managed to crash into what looked like one of the most expensive cars she had ever seen, and now she had to deal with the owner—a man who, from the way he carried himself, was probably just as intimidating as the vehicle he drove.

Her eyes flickered up, meeting his gaze once more.

The man—tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a perfectly tailored black suit—stood with an air of quiet dominance. The kind of presence that demanded attention without needing to utter a word. His expression was calm, too calm, which somehow made the tension in her chest tighten even more.

Antonio took a step closer, his eyes scanning her as if trying to assess whether she was hurt.

"Are you alright?" His voice was deep, smooth, carrying an authority that sent a shiver down her spine.

Jasmine swallowed, nodding quickly. "Yeah, I—I think so."

Her gaze drifted to the front of her car, wincing at the dent in the hood. The damage wasn't catastrophic, but it was enough to make her heart sink. She had been saving up for months to pay off her bills—repairing a car wasn't exactly in her budget right now.

"I'm so sorry," she said, rubbing her temples. "I wasn't paying attention. It was completely my fault."

Antonio tilted his head slightly, studying her. Most people would have tried to argue, shift the blame, or at least put up some kind of resistance. But she admitted her mistake without hesitation. Interesting.

His lips curved slightly—barely noticeable—but it was there.

Jasmine blinked. "Wait… really?"

She didn't know why, but that simple response unsettled her. He was being too… calm about this.

"Are you sure? I mean, I hit your Rolls-Royce," she added, motioning toward the luxury car that still looked unfairly elegant despite the minor damage. "Aren't you mad?"

Antonio let out a low chuckle, the sound rich and effortless. "I don't waste my time getting mad over things that can be fixed."

Jasmine stared at him. Who was this guy?

Before she could respond, another figure approached—a man dressed in a crisp suit, phone in hand. Antonio's assistant, Vincent, if she had to guess.

"Sir, shall I call the auto shop?" Vincent asked.

Antonio waved him off. "Later." His eyes never left Jasmine. "You're sure you're not hurt?"

"I promise, I'm fine," she assured him.

Antonio exhaled, then reached into his pocket, pulling out a sleek black business card. He handed it to her.

"If you have any issues—insurance or otherwise—call me."

Jasmine hesitated before taking it. Her fingers brushed against his, and for some reason, the brief contact sent a small jolt up her arm.

She glanced down at the card. Antonio Romano. No title, no company name. Just a phone number.

Something about it felt… different.

Antonio nodded once before turning back toward his car. As he walked away, Jasmine felt like she should say something, do something—anything to break the strange, lingering pull between them.

But before she could, he slid into his Rolls-Royce, and within seconds, he was gone.

Leaving Jasmine standing there, gripping the card like it held answers to questions she hadn't even thought to ask yet.

Chapter Two