The shutters closed with a soft but decisive sound.
The outside world disappeared instantly.
No more whispers.
No more watching eyes.
Just silence.
Jacob stood still for a moment, his hand resting lightly against the edge of the window frame. The faint echo of the shutter settling into place lingered in the room.
Then he turned.
Calm.
Composed.
As if nothing unusual had happened.
"So," he said, walking back toward the table, his tone smooth, controlled. "Where were we?"
Della hadn't moved.
She sat exactly as before—upright, quiet, her hands resting gently on her lap.
"My name is Della Dixon," she replied.
Her voice was soft.
But clear this time.
Jacob paused for a fraction of a second.
Then nodded slightly as he took his seat.
"Yes… now I remember."
His gaze remained on her—not intrusive, but unwavering.
Focused.
For a brief moment, the room fell into a quiet rhythm.
Jacob leaned back slightly in his chair.
"How old are you?"
"Fourteen."
The answer came without hesitation.
Jacob nodded slowly, absorbing it.
There was something about the way she spoke—simple, direct, without any unnecessary emotion.
Unusual.
"And your future goals?" he asked.
Della looked at him.
Not nervous.
Not excited.
Just… steady.
"I want to become a doctor," she said. Then, after a small pause, she added, "But I'm also interested in technology."
Jacob raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Both?"
"I like both equally."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"That's good."
But inside—
Something shifted.
Because this wasn't just ambition.
It felt… balanced.
Too balanced.
Jacob tapped his fingers lightly on the table.
"Do you live alone?"
Della nodded.
"I've rented a house in New York for my studies."
Jacob leaned forward slightly.
"And your parents?"
"They live in Texas."
A pause.
"They visit me sometimes."
Jacob's eyes narrowed just slightly.
"How often is 'sometimes'?"
Della didn't need time to think.
"Fifteen days a month."
Jacob blinked once.
That wasn't "sometimes."
That was… structured.
Regular.
Almost scheduled.
"You should ask them to stay with you," he said casually.
Della shook her head.
"They don't agree."
No explanation.
No elaboration.
Just that.
Jacob studied her for a moment longer.
Then shifted the topic.
"What do you do besides studying?"
Della answered simply.
"I work."
Jacob's interest sharpened.
"Where?"
"At a bakery."
A small pause.
Jacob's tone softened slightly.
"Do you make cakes?"
Della nodded.
"Yes."
Her eyes lowered just slightly.
"I do it to help my parents pay the rent."
Silence.
Not uncomfortable.
But heavy.
Jacob leaned back again, exhaling quietly.
A fourteen-year-old.
Living alone.
Studying.
Working.
Supporting her family.
And yet—
There was no strain in her voice.
No complaint.
Just… acceptance.
Then, suddenly—
He asked,
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
The question hung in the air.
Unexpected.
Direct.
Della looked at him.
For a full second.
Two.
Three.
Not confused.
Not embarrassed.
Just… observing.
Then—
"No."
Her answer was calm.
Certain.
Jacob nodded slowly.
"Good girl."
The words came out naturally.
But the tone—
Carried something layered.
"You must be very busy," he continued, his voice softer now. "Managing studies… and work."
Della gave a small nod.
"Thank you for understanding."
Jacob's fingers stopped tapping.
He looked at her.
Really looked.
And then—
Something changed.
"I'll remove all your problems," he said.
Della blinked.
"Today."
The room seemed to grow quieter.
"You'll get whatever you want."
Confusion appeared on her face for the first time.
"How?"
Jacob stood up.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
He walked toward the table drawer and pulled it open.
The sound of paper shifting filled the silence.
He took out a set of documents.
Placed them neatly in front of her.
"Just sign these."
Della's gaze dropped to the papers.
Then back to him.
"What kind of papers are these?"
Jacob stepped closer.
Not too close.
But enough to shift the space between them.
"They're deal papers," he said calmly.
His voice was steady.
Measured.
"Read them carefully before signing."
A pause.
Then—
"You can take a whole week… if you want to understand them."
Della didn't touch the papers.
She just looked at them.
As if trying to feel something beyond the words.
Jacob reached into the drawer again.
This time, he took out a card.
A simple one.
Clean.
Professional.
He held it out toward her.
"Call me if your answer is yes."
Della took it slowly.
"And my driver will come to collect the papers."
Silence stretched between them.
Longer this time.
He watched her.
Waiting.
Not pressuring.
But expecting.
Then—
Della asked,
"What if I say no?"
The question was quiet.
But sharp.
Jacob stepped closer again.
This time—
Closer than before.
His presence felt stronger.
More defined.
"If that's the case," he said, his voice low, controlled—
"You should tear the papers."
A pause.
"And throw them away."
Another step closer.
"And forget everything."
His gaze locked with hers.
"Like a bad dream."
For a moment—
Neither of them moved.
Something passed between them.
Unspoken.
Unclear.
But real.
Then—
Jacob straightened.
Turned.
And walked toward the door.
He didn't look back.
Didn't add anything more.
Didn't wait.
The door opened.
Closed.
And just like that—
He was gone.
The room fell silent again.
But this silence was different.
Della remained seated.
The papers in front of her.
The card in her hand.
Her fingers tightened slightly around it.
Her gaze slowly lowered to the documents.
Page one.
Legal terms.
Conditions.
Clauses.
But her eyes didn't move like someone reading.
They moved like someone… remembering.
A faint breeze slipped through a small gap in the shutters.
Just enough to stir the edge of the papers.
Della's expression didn't change.
But something behind her eyes did.
"Bad dream…" she whispered softly.
Then—
Slowly—
She placed the card on the table.
And for the first time—
A question formed.
Not about the deal.
Not about the money.
About him.
Because something about Jacob Elordi—
Didn't feel normal either.
And deep down—
She knew.
This wasn't the end of their meeting.
It was just the beginning.