IRENE'S POV (CONTD.)
"Oh… he's an actor." The words left my lips before I realized I was thinking out loud.
"That explains the mansion." I blinked at the TV again, piecing everything together.
Then.. a pinch.
"Ouch!" I yelped, smacking Erica's hand away. "What was that for?"
She grinned like she'd caught me kissing a poster. "Girl, I knew he was fine, but I didn't think you, of all people, would catch feelings. Aww! My best friend still believes in love."
I tapped her forehead lightly. "Don't be silly. I just didn't realize he was that Bright O'wen. I don't even watch movies. His face looked familiar… that's all. He was the one I interviewed with today, him and his sweet little daughter."
Erica gasped, hands flying to her mouth like she'd just heard the best gossip of the year. She grabbed both of mine, her eyes wide as she searched my face.
"You're messing with me. Say you're joking. Please, say you're joking."
I didn't, and when she saw I was serious, she let out a scream that shook the room.
"Erica!" I jumped, covering her mouth quickly. "You want your staff to think we won the lottery? Chill! You're going to blow up your store."
"You mean to tell me… You walked into his house? You talked to him? In person?" she half-whispered, fanning herself like she might faint from secondhand excitement.
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, and it's really not a big deal. You should consider a side hustle in acting, though. Your drama skills are solid."
Erica wasn't done.
She grabbed my hands again, her voice serious now. "Listen. I've been following him for years. Bright O'wen isn't just some movie star. He owns luxury brands, tech companies, and other businesses; he's a walking empire. He lost his wife during childbirth and keeps a low profile, but every woman in this city dreams of him. No scandals, no drama. Just him, his work, and that daughter."
She paused, like the next words needed extra weight.
"And now you have access to his daughter. And maybe, just maybe… to him. You know what that means, right?"
I raised an eyebrow.
"One day, I could become his designer! You better make me proud, girl."
She laughed so loud I had to check the door to make sure no one overheard.
"I'm serious, Irene. He's seen you. That's step one. Do something!"
"You've lost your mind," I said, picking up my bag. "This is confidential. You want a bunch of crazy fans showing up at my house? No, thank you. I've got errands to run."
I didn't even bother trying to bring her back to reality. I just left her floating in her dreamland, already planning my imaginary wedding to Bright O'wen.
*********
BRIGHT'S POV
I had to be on set in less than an hour, but the scent of hot coffee in my hand was the only thing grounding me.
Just as I took a sip, the front door opened.
And there she was.
Sister Martha.
Draped in a blue habit today, not white like usual. Still carried the same peaceful aura, though. Still walked with the kind of grace that made you sit straighter.
I kissed her hand out of respect as she traced the sign of the cross on my forehead.
"I came back from the monastery last night," she said, settling beside me. "Thought I'd bring some blessings into the house."
She waved the maid away for privacy.
"How's Lily? Upstairs?"
I nodded, bracing myself. I already knew where this was heading.
"I'll go straight to the point," she said, her eyes kind but firm. "It's been seven years since Ann passed. You've mourned her long enough. It's time to think about marriage. I have someone…"
"No, not this again."
I cut her off before she could dive in.
"I was twenty-five when you and Mum arranged my marriage to Ann," I said. "You both said marriage would help me focus on my acting career. I didn't fight it then. I went along with it. But this time, no. If I ever marry again, it'll be for love, not out of duty."
She didn't respond. She didn't need to.
I stood up and kissed her hand respectfully. "You know I love you, but I'm not doing that again."
I walked away before she could say more and headed straight to Lily's room.
She was by the mirror, attempting to pack her hair in a ponytail, her little arms struggling with the ribbon.
"You don't have to just stand there, Dad," she said, not even turning around. "If you'd married Dora, maybe second Grandma wouldn't be pestering you about it."
I chuckled. Typical Lily.
"We've talked about eavesdropping," I said, folding my arms.
"I wasn't eavesdropping," she argued. "I was coming downstairs and just… heard voices. That's not eavesdropping. That's being aware."
I shook my head, defeated.
I walked to her, pulled her gently onto my lap, and helped tie her hair into a proper ponytail.
"I couldn't marry Dora. She was my employee. I didn't love her, plus she's married now, anyway."
Then I added with a smile, "You're not jealous, Daddy might marry again, are you?"
She wrapped her tiny arms around my neck and grinned.
"I'm sure Daddy would never marry someone I don't love. Because I'll always be Daddy's little girl."
And just like that, my heart felt full again.
Even if I failed in everything else, I got this right…her.
***********
IRENE'S POV
It was Friday.
Which meant I should've been at the club an hour ago, warming up, getting into the headspace for Sugar.
But here I was, standing by the curb for over 30 minutes with no cab in sight. Frustrated, sweating, and anxious.
My eyes shut briefly as that memory flashed again: me selling my only car. The small one I'd finally saved for, gone in a blink, so I could add it to Sophia's surgery fund.
I blinked hard, willing the tears to disappear.
Just then, headlights flashed.
A sleek black car pulled up and rolled its window down. The man inside had a kind face, probably early thirties, dark stubble, and a confidence that didn't seem dangerous.
"If you're waiting for a cab, it might be a while," he said. "There's a huge jam near the avenue. I got lucky and took a back route. Where are you headed? I can give you a lift."
Everything in me said no.
But the clock on my phone said otherwise.
"R&B Lounge," I replied cautiously.
He nodded. "Hop in."
I hesitated… then opened the door.
For Sophia, I'd risk it all.
BRIGHT'S POV
Something kept whispering, This isn't like you.
But here I was.
Back at R&B Lounge.
Alone.
No Mike, no Dave. Just me and this need I couldn't shake.
I came early, hoping to catch a glimpse of her before she vanished again.
Sugar.
The masked girl who danced like fire and looked like sin. I hadn't been able to get her out of my head since the last time I saw her. I didn't even know her other name. But the way she moved haunted me.
And tonight, I had to know.
I got up from my seat before her set ended and headed in the direction I'd seen her disappear through.
Two bouncers stepped forward.
"Restricted area, sir."
Without flinching, I pulled out a thick wad of cash from my coat pocket and handed it to them.
"I'm not here to cause trouble. I just want to talk to someone. No cameras, no phones. Just a conversation."
The taller one looked at the other, then stepped aside.
There were three doors. Only one was slightly ajar.
I moved toward it slowly.
Her back was turned, her head bowed. Her long hair tumbled over bare shoulders, her figure outlined by the soft glow of the room.
I stepped inside without thinking, heart racing, pulse loud in my ears.
My voice came out low, but very honest.
"Please… let me see your face.