A struggling single dad fixed a stranded farmer’s truck, unaware she is a billionaire. What she did next gave him the shock of his life…

Cole closed the hood with a thud. You’re good to go. Just don’t drive too fast until the fan kicks in.

This thing’s hanging on by wires and grace. How much do I owe you? He laughed, but there was no humor in it. I didn’t do it for money.

Just pay it forward sometime. She stared at him. Really stared.

Like she’d never heard those words before. Then she turned toward his truck. That your son? Yeah.

What’s his name? Liam. Cute kid. She paused.

You didn’t even ask who I was. Cole wiped his greasy hands on his jeans. Didn’t figure it mattered.

You needed help. That’s all I needed to know. She didn’t respond.

Instead, she stepped forward, looked him in the eye, and whispered, You have no idea what you just did, do you? Cole raised an eyebrow. Fixed a truck. Helped a stranger.

Drove home in the rain. That’s what I did. The woman smiled faintly.

Then she climbed into her truck and pulled away into the night. But not before glancing at Cole’s license plate and memorizing it. What Cole didn’t know, what he couldn’t have known, was that the woman he’d helped wasn’t just any stranded stranger.

She was Savannah Rowe, owner of Rowe Farms International. And in 48 hours, she would change his life in a way no wrench or bolt ever could. Cole thought the night would end with a bowl of instant noodles and a lukewarm shower.

Nothing out of the ordinary. He pulled up to his run-down trailer at the edge of the woods, gravel crunching beneath his tires. The roof still leaked.

The porch light flickered, like it had a ghost of its own. But it was home. He carried Liam inside, the boy still half-asleep on his shoulder, breathing softly.

Every step through the cramped, creaky living room reminded Cole just how far he’d fallen since Savannah left him years ago. His ex. Not the woman from the road.

Funny how that name was showing up again. He tucked Liam in a bed, kissed his forehead, and stared at the peeling wallpaper in silence. A part of him was used to the stillness.

Another part hated it. And yet, something fell off. Like the air was too quiet.

Like someone was watching. But he shook it off. He had worked tomorrow.

The same grimy garage. The same busted carburetors. The same stingy clients who wouldn’t even tip for extra hours.

And no matter how hard he worked, the bills still weighted like vultures circling overhead. Meanwhile, twenty miles away, Savannah Rowe sat in the back of a luxury black SUV parked outside a modern farmhouse she rarely used. She had changed out of her muddy clothes, her hair still damp from the rain.

She stared at a laptop screen, her assistant’s voice echoing through the speaker. You asked for a background check. We found him.

Name’s Cole Whitaker. Thirty-three. Single father.

Wife walked out seven years ago. He’s been raising the kid alone, since then. Works three jobs.

Lives in a trailer near Hollow Creek. Savannah leaned back. Eyes narrowed.

And his son. Name’s Liam. Good kid.

Never been in trouble. Teachers say he’s quiet. Smart…