Ella's POV
The smell of fresh coffee and warm pastries clung to the air as I wiped down the counter, the mid-afternoon lull making the café hum with a strange kind of quiet. My phone buzzed on the counter, vibrating against the wood like it carried the weight of the world. I frowned, wiping my hands on a napkin before unlocking it.
"You are cordially invited to the Annual H&Co. Gala. Attendance is mandatory for all contracted models."
I blinked.
Gala?
My brain short-circuited for a moment. I'd done a few shoots for H&Co., but… a gala? That was the kind of event people dressed like walking pieces of art for, not cardigan-wearing, coffee-serving nobodies like me. My stomach tightened as I read it again. Tomorrow. Less than twenty-four hours.
"Great," I muttered under my breath, shoving the phone back into my pocket. My heart wouldn't stop thudding. Tomorrow, I'd have to walk into a room full of people who belonged in that world: models, executives, and the elite. And then there was me. The bell above the door chimed, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. As I opened my mouth to say welcome, but words died in my mouth, a frown etched my face.
-Asher? What was he doing here?
White shirt, sleeves rolled up, coat draped lazily over his arm like the cold didn't dare touch him. Effortless. Imposing. His presence filled the tiny café the way shadows fill an empty room, completely and unavoidably.
And suddenly, my nervousness about the gala felt ten times heavier. His eyes found mine instantly. "You look… distracted," he said, voice low and measured, like he'd already read me before I even spoke. "I'm fine," I lied, grabbing a rag just to have something to do with my hands.
One brow arched. "You're lying." I froze, caught. Of course, he knew. He always did somehow.
"Spill it," he said, stepping closer. My throat tightened. "It's nothing—just… I got invited to a gala tomorrow. For H&Co." Something flickered in his eyes. Amusement? Interest? Possessiveness? It was hard to tell with him. "A gala," he repeated, almost like he was testing the word. "And you weren't going to tell me?" I shrugged, trying to keep my tone casual. "Didn't think it mattered."
He leaned in just slightly, close enough that I could smell that clean, expensive cologne of his, like smoke and cedar and something dangerous. "It matters." My pulse stuttered. Why? Why did it feel like he wasn't just talking about the gala?. He ordered an iced Americano and sat alone by a window table, working on his laptop silently. His chocolate hair caught sunlight; he looked different in a way I couldn't place. Finally, my shift was over by afternoon as I walked at my slow pace, tired out, and he looked up at me.
"Done?" His voice calmly looked at me with those curious eyes as I nodded before I could say further, he swiftly packed his stuff and grabbed my wrist, dragging me out to his car
"Ya? where are we goin-" my voice questioning him, but we were already settled in his car, soft music hummed, and the engine roared to the point that my eyes nd body drifted to sleep, head slumped against the window. Soon we reached the destination in the past of the breeze.
The boutique felt unreal. Rows of dresses that probably cost more than my rent. A chandelier overhead that threw soft gold light across polished marble floors. And I still had my work cardigan, clutching my bag like it could shield me from how out of place I felt. "Asher…" My voice wavered. "This is… too much." He didn't even slow down. "No," he said, his hand on my shoulder guiding me toward the racks. "This is exactly what you deserve."
I opened my mouth to protest again, but the look he gave me, steady blinking, shut me up. "Asher—" "No, El." His tone softened, but it didn't lose that quiet authority. "You've spent too long shrinking yourself to fit into places you don't belong. Not here. Not with me." My throat tightened. It was such an Asher thing to say blunt, a little rough, but laced with that protective warmth that had once been my safe place.
He picked a dress off the rack, something silk and impossibly elegant, and held it out to me. "Try it." I stared at it. "Asher, that's—"
"Perfect for you," he cut me off. His hand brushed mine as he handed it over, firm, grounded. "And I don't care what it costs." My chest ached. "You don't have to do this for me." "I know." He exhaled, leaning against the wall, hands shoved in his pockets. "But I want to. I want to give you every bit of happiness I missed giving you these last five years." His voice dipped, quieter now, like it wasn't meant for anyone but me. "Please… let me."
The room tilted for a second. My heart did that awful, dangerous thing: it believed him. I nodded, wordless, and disappeared into the dressing room. The boutique assistant handed me another gown. "This one's a favorite," she chirped before closing the fitting room curtain.
I slipped into it, an emerald-green silk piece with a daring slit up the thigh. When I stepped out, Asher's gaze snapped up from his phone. Nothing. No blink. No movement. Just that quiet, unreadable stare. I tugged at the strap self-consciously. "Too much?" His jaw flexed. "Turn." I did, heart pounding at the command in his tone. He hummed low. "Too revealing." I blinked. "You said I should stand out—" "Not like that." The next was a softer blush-pink dress with airy tulle and floral embroidery. Safe. I could breathe in it.
He tilted his head, lips twitching. "Pretty." "Pretty?" I narrowed my eyes. "That's it?" "You look like you're going to a prom," he deadpanned. "Next." I groaned and went back in.
When I stepped out in the third, the red wine gown, everything toppled. No words. His gaze traveled slowly, possessively, lingering on every line of fabric clinging to my body. The slit, the dip at the back, the exposed skin. He didn't even try to mask it. I crossed my arms, heat crawling up my neck. "Say something." His tongue swept across his bottom lip, like he was tasting words before letting them go. "Turn."
I did.
The silence stretched, heavy, until he finally spoke. I stared at myself in the mirror, hardly recognizing the girl looking back.
The gown clung to me like it was made for my skin—deep red, the color of old wine, flowing down my frame like liquid fire. The off-shoulder cut bared my collarbones, delicate and vulnerable, while the half-backless dip felt… sinful. Elegant. Like I wasn't me anymore, but someone who belonged in those glittering rooms I only saw in magazines.
My fingers trembled as I smoothed the fabric over my hips. "This is ridiculous," I muttered to myself. "I can't wear this." "I—It's not—" "El." Firm this time.
For the first time in a long time, Asher didn't have anything to say.
He just… stared. His jaw tightened, and his throat worked as if he wanted to speak but couldn't. His eyes were warm, dark brown, the kind I used to hide in when the world felt too cruel, dragged over me slowly, deliberately.
When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, almost foreign. "Enchanting."
I swallowed. "It's too much—"
"Not enough." He cut me off, stepping closer, his presence suddenly taking up all the air in the boutique. "You don't get it, El. You walk into that gala in this, and they'll remember your name. They'll never forget your face."
There was something else in his gaze, sharp, unreadable as his hand reached out, barely brushing my arm where the fabric ended. That shine of those fluorescent lights was reflecting in his eyes.
"You're going to turn every head in that room," he said quietly, almost like a warning. Then his lips curved in something that wasn't quite a smile. My heart stuttered, my voice calm, trying to collect myself as I hugged him tightly. I had heels on, but still couldn't reach him fully. My chin rested on his shoulders. His warm body, that strong hit of his essence mixed with musk hit me, my eyes fell close, a soft gulp down my throat."Thank you so much, Ash.... I really don't know how I would repay-" He was standing still, but his arms were around my waist, pulling me close. His face was buried in my crook every bit of my body hyper aware of this sudden closeness, his voice low and rough..."Don't you ever dare to say that. I am doing this cause I want to. Not with any intention of any repayment."
His fingers, long and slender, held my bare skin, my breath sharpened warmth radiating in my skin..." Ash-" my voice low, Unsually fasten heartbeat he broke hug and cupped my face his hand palm engulfing my chin as he tilted my face upward..."I want to do everything for you EL. Anyhting you want I want you to shine glow radiate just like the sun you are in my life like butterfly who alway come back to me.... alright?" his voice carried weight of raw emotions what was he saying? me. A star? His gaze held that raw emotions, A message we wanted me to understand but didn't have words for.
I stepped away, breaking the moment, tryna brush off whatever was going on...soon we left the boutique, Ride back to the apartment was silent, my mind elsewhere, still tangled up with Syluss... him at that beach.That pain we shared,e d that stillness, how his voice was like a soothing balm
I am always here.... a smile of Iis I never saw a raw part of him that was shunned away. I opened my phone and texted him.. [Hy?] Hesitant... what was I doing, my fingers moved quickly to delete the message, but soon there was a response from the other side.. "Hy!" my eye widden I didn't expect him to text me... [Hope I didn't disturb you ] I texted with a soft sigh ."Not at all." He texted back instantly... "checking on me?"
Well, maybe I was? Maybe I was feeling worried about him.... [Maybe] I texted back a soft smile on my face..[So are you alright?] I waited for a response, "Yes, just was feeling lost... tired... clouded..." His response made me frown. [What happened? Is everything ok?] A small frown etched my forehead. "Nothing just got into a fight." Fight? He was mentioning a fight so casually? [Are you alright? You didn't get hurt-] before I could tap send, my phone died....
'Aish, a loud groan escaped my mouth....
Asher, who seemed quite whole, turned to me," What happened? Who were you texting to?" his voice was low, his gaze piercing my soul, challenging me to lie one more time, testing my waters. "Sylus?"
"Sylushu?" His voice sharp, a small grip on the steering wheel tightened... well, maybe it was a bad idea to tell about him.