He Thought She Was Just a Mechanic—Then Her Ring Shattered His Family’s Past (2 of 4)

Elijah blinked. “Uh, yeah. Engine overheated. No cell service.”

She didn’t waste time with small talk. “Pop the hood.”

He hesitated. “You’re… a mechanic?”

She smirked. “Amara. I run a shop. My dad started it before I could walk.”

Elijah, with no better options, popped the latch. Amara leaned in, her movements sure and practiced. Within minutes, she diagnosed the issue—a failing water pump and a belt on its last breath.

“I can rig it to get you to the next exit,” she said, already grabbing tools from her truck.

He watched in awe as she patched hoses, added coolant, and tightened clamps with the kind of ease he usually only saw in boardrooms. She worked like someone who didn’t second-guess herself. That, more than anything, impressed him.

“You do this often? Rescue stranded execs on the highway?”

Amara chuckled. “Only the ones wearing thousand-dollar shoes.”

As the engine began to settle, Elijah noticed something that pulled him out of his gratitude haze: the ring on her finger. An old gold band, set with a deep green emerald. Ornate, elegant, unmistakable.

“That’s a beautiful ring,” he said slowly.