Nova took Andrew to meet her designer the following afternoon, the sunlight casting a bright gleam on the hood of her sleek matte-black Porsche as they pulled out of the villa's gates. Andrew sat stiffly in the passenger seat, his hands folded neatly in his lap, his eyes fixed on the road ahead like he was preparing for a job interview instead of a suit fitting.
The silence between them was thick but not necessarily uncomfortable—just... cautious. Nova noticed it almost immediately.
"You know I don't bite, right?" she asked, glancing over at him with a small smirk as they cruised past rows of boutique shops and quiet residential buildings.
Andrew's lips twitched slightly. "Yeah, I know."
"Then why do you look like you're being driven to your execution?"
"I've just... never had a suit tailored before," he admitted. "Or been invited to an art exhibit. Especially not one hosted by someone like you."
Nova raised a brow. "Someone like me?"
He cleared his throat. "Rich. Confident. The kind of person who commands attention just by walking into a room."
She chuckled. "You're giving me way too much credit. I trip over rugs and insult people accidentally on the regular."
That earned a small laugh from him, which warmed her chest more than she expected.
They arrived at the designer's studio—an upscale but artsy building nestled between a vintage bookstore and an artisan bakery. It was all glass windows and lush greenery climbing up the outer walls, a stark contrast to Andrew's tiny apartment complex. As they stepped inside, the scent of fabric and leather filled the air, along with the faint notes of jasmine from a nearby diffuser.
"Nova!" a flamboyant voice rang out.
A tall, striking man in high-waisted slacks and a silk shirt floated toward them. His name was Lior, Nikolai's long time designer.
"Darling, you're late," Lior said dramatically, kissing both of Nova's cheeks before turning to Andrew and blinking. "And who's this pretty thing?"
Nova grinned. "Lior, this is Andrew. He's going to be my plus-one for the exhibit."
Lior raised a perfectly arched brow. "Charming. Silent. Slightly terrified. I love him already. Come, sweetheart, we must dress you!"
Andrew glanced at Nova, silently asking if he was truly expected to go along with this.
"You'll survive," she whispered with a wink.
Lior led Andrew into the fitting area, ushering him behind a partition where assistants fluttered around with measuring tapes and notebooks. Nova lounged on a velvet couch nearby, sipping a glass of infused water and scrolling through her emails. Every now and then, she heard snippets of conversation from behind the curtain.
"Arms up—good. Shoulders back. Darling, don't slouch! We're building confidence, not measuring a scarecrow!"
Andrew emerged twenty minutes later, dressed in black slacks and a partially buttoned white dress shirt. The fit was rough and unfinished, but Nova could already see the potential. He looked... good. Like someone who belonged in her world, even if he didn't think he did.
"Damn," she muttered.
Andrew fidgeted under her gaze. "Is it too much?"
She shook her head, rising from her seat. "It's perfect. Once it's tailored to your body, it'll be lethal."
Lior flitted over, nodding in approval. "We'll make final adjustments tomorrow and have it delivered by Friday. That work?"
Nova nodded. "Perfect."
She and Andrew walked back to the car. He looked a little overwhelmed, a little dazed, but also strangely amused.
"Thanks for this," he said quietly as they buckled in.
"Don't mention it."
The ride back to his apartment was smoother than the ride there. The tension had eased, replaced by a budding familiarity. Nova didn't try to fill the silence this time. She let the music play softly in the background and occasionally glanced his way.
Once they pulled up to the curb outside his building, Andrew reached for the door handle.
"Wait," she said.
He turned to her, brow raised.
"Give me your number," she said, holding out her phone. "So I can let you know when the tux is ready."
He hesitated only for a moment before accepting the phone and typing in his number. He handed it back to her with a small smile.
"I'll see you soon, Nova."
She watched him walk inside, his figure disappearing into the stairwell. As she leaned back in her seat, she found herself smiling.
He wasn't like anyone she knew.
And maybe that's exactly what made this so exciting.
Nova arrived back home just as the sun dipped low behind the hills, casting an amber glow across the expansive Volkov estate. The sky bled orange and pink, reflecting softly off the windows of the villa as she pulled into the driveway. She stepped out of her car, stretched her arms overhead, and inhaled the warm evening air. A faint floral scent lingered in the breeze—Elara's roses, probably.
She locked the car and made her way inside, the familiar creak of the front door greeting her like a welcome home banner.
The first thing she saw was Andrei sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, completely immersed in assembling one of his thousand-piece puzzles. The kid was a mastermind when it came to puzzles—Nova swore he could probably rebuild an engine if given enough time and chocolate milk.
Elara lounged on the couch, a large bowl of Mac and cheese precariously balanced on her five-month baby bump. Her other hand gripped a tall glass swirled with chocolate and vanilla milkshake. Her hair was tied in a messy bun, and she wore one of Nikolai's oversized shirts that barely contained her belly.
From the kitchen emerged Nikolai, holding a single slice of homemade chocolate cake on a delicate porcelain plate. He walked over and placed it gently on the coffee table in front of Elara.
Elara narrowed her eyes at the cake, her lips twitching with irritation. "Just a slice?"
"Ah... yeah," Nikolai replied cautiously, already sensing danger.
"I said cake, Nikolai. Not a slice of cake. Cake," she said, her voice flat with warning.
Nikolai blinked. "You already have a full plate of Mac and cheese. A tall glass of shake. And now you want an entire cake?"
"I will decide how much cake I want. Not you," she snapped.
Nova paused mid-step, biting back a laugh. She'd seen this scene too many times, and yet it never stopped being amusing. Somehow, despite going through two previous pregnancies, her father still hadn't mastered the art of decoding her mother's cravings.
"Are you sure you want the whole cake?" he dared to ask, eyebrows raised.
Elara gave him a look that could make a grown man weep. "Are you seriously asking? Go and get the cake or you're sleeping on the floor until this baby is born."
Nikolai hesitated for all of three seconds before turning on his heel and heading back into the kitchen.
Nova let out a giggle, finally making her presence known.
Both Elara and Nikolai looked toward her.
"You're back," Nikolai said, reappearing with the entire cake now perched on a wooden board.
"Yeah. I got the perfect dress," Nova said, plopping down onto the couch beside her mom.
"That's great to hear," Elara said, her mood visibly brightening. She was already digging into the cake with enthusiasm.
Nova leaned back, sighing in contentment. The house felt warm and full tonight.
But that peace didn't last long.
Nikolai, now leaning on the edge of the armrest, folded his arms and tilted his head slightly. "So... Lior called me about an hour ago."
Nova's eyes darted toward him, already sensing where this was going.
"He mentioned you stopped by," he continued. "Interesting, considering Lior is my designer. You have your own. And he said you were with a boy."
Nova sighed. "Oh boy. Here we go."
Nikolai's jaw clenched slightly, his overprotective father mode fully activated. "Who is he?"
"His name is Andrew. He's just a friend."
"A friend?" he echoed, clearly unconvinced. "Does he go to your college?"
"No. He's a barista. And a design student. He wants to be an interior designer."
Nikolai raised a brow. "So you're hanging out with baristas now?"
"He's not just a barista, Dad. He's a good guy. Quiet. Polite. Smart. And—shocker—not remotely interested in impressing you."
Elara snorted into her cake.
Nova continued, unfazed. "I asked him to be my plus-one for the exhibit. That's it. I even offered to get him a tailored tux. He was hesitant, but I convinced him."
Nikolai didn't look thrilled. "Do you know where he lives?"
"Yes, Dad. I dropped him off yesterday. And no, I didn't go inside unchaperoned, if that's what you're worried about."
"I wasn't worried—"
"You were," Elara interrupted through a mouthful of cake. "You're always worried. You wanted her to date boys but ran off every one that so much as blinked in her direction."
Nikolai grumbled under his breath.
Nova leaned back, arms crossed over her chest. "You know what? I'm eighteen. I deserve to have one normal social interaction that doesn't end with you threatening to break someone's kneecaps."
He grunted but said nothing else. The silence stretched until Elara broke it again.
"So... is he cute?"
Nova grinned. "Very."
Nikolai muttered something unintelligible in Russian and stalked back into the kitchen.
"Love you, Daddy!" Nova called sweetly.
Elara cackled.
Nova leaned her head against her mother's shoulder. "You're going to help me get him on Dad's good side, right?"
Elara shrugged. "If he brings me cake like this, I'll consider it."
They both laughed, the sound echoing through the villa like a promise of change.