**Chapter 1: A Life of Struggle**

Ashley Frangipane trudged through the front door of her small, rundown apartment, the worn-out soles of her sneakers scraping against the cracked linoleum floor. She was 16, but the weight of her family's struggles had aged her beyond her years. Her eyes scanned the dimly lit room, taking in the familiar sight of peeling wallpaper and worn furniture. The air was thick with the smell of stale bread and yesterday's Chinese takeout. Her two younger brothers, Sevian and Dante, were sprawled out on the couch, arguing over a worn-out video game controller. Sevian, 13, was a scrappy kid who tried to take care of his little brother, but he was just a kid himself. Dante, 3, was a ball of energy, always getting into mischief, and Ashley loved him to pieces. Ashley's gaze moved to her parents, who were huddled in the kitchen, their faces tense. Her father, Chris, was yelling at her mother, Nicole, his face red with anger. Ashley felt a familiar knot form in her stomach. This was a scene she'd witnessed countless times before. "You're useless, Nicole!" Chris bellowed. "You can't even take care of our own kids, let alone get a decent job!" Nicole, fragile and defeated, cowered under Chris's verbal attack. Ashley had lost count of how many times she'd seen her mother cry, but it still hurt to see her so broken. Ashley's heart ached for her mom, but she knew better than to intervene. Her father's anger was a powder keg, and she didn't want to be the one to set it off. Ashley dropped her backpack on the floor and made her way to the kitchen, trying to stay out of her father's line of fire. "Hey, guys, I'm starving," she said, trying to sound casual. Her father's gaze snapped to her, his eyes narrowing. "You think you're entitled to food, huh? You think you're some kind of princess?" Ashley felt a sting from his words, but she kept her cool. "Dad, I'm just hungry. Can we order some pizza or something?" Chris snorted. "Pizza? You think we can afford pizza? You're just like your mother, always expecting things to be handed to you on a silver platter." Nicole looked up, her eyes pleading with Ashley to stay calm. "Ashley, honey, I'll try to make something for dinner. Maybe some soup or—" But Chris cut her off, his voice rising. "No, Nicole, you won't make anything. You're not capable of making anything decent." The argument continued, with Ashley's father spewing venom and her mother shrinking further into herself. Ashley felt a wave of frustration wash over her. This was her life – a never-ending cycle of poverty, hunger, and fear. As the fight died down, Ashley slipped out of the apartment, feeling suffocated. She needed some fresh air, some space from the toxic atmosphere that seemed to suffocate her. She walked for blocks, her feet carrying her on autopilot. She ended up at the local park, where she collapsed onto a bench, feeling lost and alone. That's when she saw him – a guy with piercing blue eyes and chiseled features, sitting on a nearby bench, staring at her. He looked older, maybe in his late 20s, and there was something about him that drew Ashley in. "Hey, you okay?" he asked, his voice low and gentle. Ashley hesitated, unsure of what to say. But there was something about this stranger that made her feel seen, like he actually cared. "My name is Matty, by the way," he said, holding out his hand. Ashley took it, feeling a spark of electricity as their palms touched. "I'm Ashley," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. And in that moment, Ashley's life changed forever.