It wasn't even noon when the universe decided to pull its next stunt.
Liora was on her way to yet another interview — another "entry-level with five years experience required" circus — when her phone vibrated.
A news alert.
Julian Hart Spotted in Belvaria for Private Project Collaboration.
She froze in the middle of the sidewalk.
No.
No.
No way.
Her heart slammed against her ribs so hard it felt personal. She clicked the article.
A grainy photo of him exiting an airport, sunglasses on, that signature effortless cool. A few Westmoor team members around him. No location tagged. No details. Just a simple announcement:
Sources say the artist will be staying in Belvaria for the next few weeks.
The ache flared.
Not just the longing.
The full package.
Anger. Annoyance. The bone-deep exhaustion of this joke of a soul contract.
Oh, so now he was on her turf.
Now, when her life was crumbling, and she could barely hold herself together.
She didn't know whether to laugh or scream.
The universe really thought this was funny.
Liora shoved her phone into her bag, muttering under her breath, "Yeah, let me guess… he'll probably walk past me in some café and not even blink."
Because of course.
That was her life now.
Yanked between fate, frustration, and a man who had no idea she existed.
And yet…
The tiniest flicker sparked somewhere deep inside.
If he was here…
What if—
She shut the thought down.
No.
She wasn't playing this game.
But the universe? Oh, the universe was playing for keeps... Or not