Ava stared at him, furious. Ethan Vescovi wasn't even paying attention. She had spent days perfecting this presentation—sacrificing sleep, rearranging her priorities, and pulling every detail together—and yet, here he was, sitting there, completely disinterested.
She knew she was late, but that didn't justify his lack of professionalism. Ignoring someone's hard work was worse than being late. Mr. Stark had given her a heads-up about Ethan a week ago.
"He's a perfectionist, Ava. He won 't accept rough drafts or vague ideas. He needs everything—the full vision—before he even considers working with you." said Mr. Stark to her. So, she had put aside every other project, focusing all her energy on this.
Yet here he was.
Sitting there, barely listening.
Her blood boiled.
"Do you have anything to add, or shall we proceed as presented?" she asked, barely containing her irritation. Ethan blinked, as if he had just realized she was speaking.
He exhaled, straightened, and stood up. "As per Mr. Stark's high praises, do your best. Budget is not an issue. I'll be checking the progress weekly." Then, just like that, he turned and left—without even glancing at her sketches.
What. A. Jerk.
Ava watched him stride toward the elevator, his assistant following closely behind. Her fingers curled into fists as she hurriedly gathered her sketches, stuffing them back into her bag. "I wasted my time making everything perfect, and he didn't even take a look!" She slammed her laptop shut. Maya, her best friend and emotional anchor, touched her hand gently.
Ava looked up, her eyes stinging with frustration. Maya gave her a knowing look—the kind that didn't need words. "He doesn't care, Maya." Ava's voice cracked. "I spent hours—no, days—perfecting this, and he just sat there with that empty look. He didn't even touch the sketches!" She slumped into her chair, her frustration spilling over into quiet sobs.
Maya rubbed her back, offering a half-hug. "Shh, I know. But hey, at least there's good news—the budget is unlimited." She forced a small smile. "That makes it easier. I think? I don't know." Ava let out a bitter chuckle. "Yeah. Unlimited money, but no appreciation."
That was the problem with big projects. Clients like Ethan Vescovi treated design like a transaction—not an art form. They thought their wallets were bigger than the little details that made a space feel like home.
This is why she hates taking on projects like this. She'd rather juggle a thousand small projects for clients who actually cared than work for someone who saw architecture as just another business deal. But still... It was work. And she loves designing, even if the clients didn't deserve it.
After parting ways with Maya—who went to her husband's café in Magenta—Ava headed home. Her apartment near Brera, Milan, was her sanctuary. As soon as she walked in, her phone buzzed. 'Her other phone'. She only used this one for Art business. A message flashed across the screen:
Collector: Someone's interested in your piece Tsuki.
Her heart skipped.
Tsuki—Japanese for Moon—was one of her most cherished . A soft, haunting panorama of a landscape bathed only in moonlight from under lake point of view.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she typed back: How much did they offer?
As she waited for a response, she unlocked the door to her private art studio—a room no one, not even Maya, had ever entered. To everyone else, it was just a storage room. Maya even joked that it was haunted.
But inside, it held her greatest secret— She is Celeste Nocturne, The Stars. An anonymous artist who sold paintings in secret
because she hated publicity.
She didn't sell her work for fame or money. She only sold pieces when her studio got too full—when she needed space. Walking in, she scanned the shelves until she found Tsuki, carefully wrapped between two other pieces. She snapped a few photos, documenting its condition. Then her phone buzzed again.
Collector: Someone bid €20,000 last night.
She froze.
Her most expensive sale before this had been €1,500—for a painting she sold last year. This was... insane. 'Who the hell bid that much?' she murmured.
Her hands trembled as she typed: Confirm the buyer. I'm coming to Monaco tonight.
With her deal at Luxe Haven sealed, Ava decided to spend the night in Monaco before returning to Milan the next day. She booked a red-eye flight, grabbed her essentials, and wrapped Tsuki securely. By the time she reached the airport, it was busier than usual. Way busier.
As she moved through customs and immigration, she finally saw why. A massive banner hung outside the terminal.
"MONACO GRAND PRIX 2024."
Her heart sank. "Oh, crap. It's the F1 weekend." That explained the insane crowds. With a sigh, she dragged her bag toward a cab and headed to Fairmont Monte Carlo—that's where she'd stay for the night.
She had no idea that tonight, in the heart of Monaco, she was about to cross paths with someone she never expected to see again.