At the entrance of the Robertsons' mansion, a Diavolo Red Aston Martin DB11 pulled up and came to a slow stop.
A tall boy with long legs stepped out—Julian Ashford, the senator's son who had been persistently pursuing her for a while.
She was seventeen then, and he was twenty. Handsome, confident, and undeniably fit—he looked like he'd walked straight out of a magazine.
"Zara, hurry up—Julian's here!" Simone called out, then froze when she saw her best friend step into view.
"Wow… you look absolutely stunning," she said, eyes wide with admiration. "That navy blue lace mini dress hugs you in all the right places—elegant, but with just enough cleavage to make him stare. Your dainty jewelry adds the perfect shimmer, and those black high-heeled sandals? They make your legs look endless."
She gave her a once-over, grinning. "The soft waves in your hair, the simple makeup—you're glowing, best. He won't know what hit him."
Zara and Simone made their way down the grand staircase, the soft clack of Zara's heels echoing through the marble foyer. Julian stood at the entrance, patiently waiting, a single hand tucked in his pocket as he glanced up—only to freeze when he saw her.
At the same time, in the living room nearby, Harrison sat with Alistair and Adrian, casually chatting—until movement on the stairs caught their attention.
All three turned.
And all three stared.
Zara descended gracefully, the navy blue lace dress hugging her curves, her waves cascading over her shoulders like something out of a dream. For a brief second, it felt like the entire mansion held its breath.
Simone smirked to herself, satisfied.
Zara ignored the stunned stares from the living room and walked straight toward Julian, her expression calm and confident. She offered him a warm smile that deepened the dimples on her cheeks.
Julian, clearly smitten, quickly closed the distance between them. He reached for her hand with a soft smile of his own.
"You look like an angel," he said, his voice low and sincere. "You're absolutely beautiful."
"And where the hell are you going, little princess?" Harrison called out, his tone protective and sharp.
Zara didn't even flinch. "Obviously, I'm going on a date," she replied coolly. "And for your information, I already asked mom and dad. They said yes. So… bye-bye."
"Stop right there!" Harrison snapped. "I didn't say you could go."
He grabbed his jacket. "I'm coming with you. Wait for me."
Zara rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Harrison? You're not my bodyguard."
Julian chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, I don't mind if he tags along… if it makes him feel better."
But Adrian, who had been quiet until then, suddenly stood up. His brows furrowed as his eyes followed Zara's every movement. "What are you even wearing?" he muttered, almost to himself.
Zara ignored him completely and turned to Julian with a smile. "Shall we?"
She took Julian's arm and walked toward the door—her head high, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor, not once looking back.
Harrison crossed his arms and turned to Adrian and Alistair. "Let's go. We're tailing them."
Alistair raised a brow. "Seriously? Isn't that a little over the top?"
"She's seventeen, and that guy's been bugging her for months. I don't trust him," Harrison said firmly.
Adrian hesitated, his gaze lingering on the door where Zara and Julian had just left. "Fine," he muttered, grabbing his keys.
Alistair sighed but followed. "This better not turn into one of your overly dramatic protective brother missions."
Harrison smirked. "Too late. It already has."
Julian took Zara to an exclusive fine-dining restaurant—one so coveted, it was nearly impossible to secure a reservation. The moment they stepped inside, she was greeted by the warm glow of crystal chandeliers, the gentle hum of classical music, and the subtle scent of fresh roses mingling with aged wine.
The tables were draped in crisp white linens, adorned with polished silverware and flickering candlelight. Waiters in black and white uniforms moved with quiet precision, their service effortless and refined.
Julian pulled out a chair for Zara and smiled."You really do look like an angel tonight," he said, his gaze soft but intense.
Zara blushed, dimples showing as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thanks, Julian. This place is beautiful… I didn't expect something like this."
"I wanted to impress you," he replied, settling into his seat. "You deserve to be spoiled a little."
Then, from beside him, he revealed a bouquet of blush pink roses and handed them to her. Zara gasped lightly, clearly touched.
"There's more," Julian added, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulled out a small velvet box and slid it across the table.
Zara opened it slowly—inside was a delicate diamond necklace, glimmering under the candlelight.
"Julian…" she whispered, stunned. "This is… wow."
He smiled. "Just something to remember tonight by."
Unbeknownst to Zara and Julian, Harrison, Adrian, and Alistair had managed to slip into the exclusive restaurant with ease. Being part of the country's elite had its perks—no reservation needed. They were seated just a few tables away, half-hidden behind a wine rack and a tall potted plant.
Harrison, ever the protective brother, kept glaring at Julian like he was mentally running a criminal background check. Alistair looked entertained, sipping his wine while whispering sarcastic commentary. Adrian, on the other hand, hadn't said much since they sat down.
"Is it just me," Alistair muttered, leaning over, "or is she actually laughing at his jokes? Like, full teeth."
"She better not be," Harrison hissed. "And don't even get me started on that dress. That thing's practically illegal."
Adrian didn't say a word. Unbothered.