Lara lost herself in the rhythm of painting, lavender swirls dancing on the walls as she envisioned the cozy, intimate space _Sweet Dreams_ would become. A place where people gathered, where memories brewed over warm croissants and rich coffee. She'd poured her heart into this dream, and it was finally coming true.
The clock ticked past midnight. Exhaustion crept in, but Lara didn't stop. She dropped onto a crate, surrounded by boxes, the silence of the bakery wrapping around her like a blanket. This was it. _Sweet Dreams_ was real.
The door creaked. Alex stepped in, suit jacket gone, sleeves rolled up, his eyes locking onto hers with that same intensity that used to leave her breathless. "Still working?"
Lara straightened, her grip on the paintbrush tightening. "What do you want, Alex?"
He scanned the space, taking in the half-painted walls, the stacked boxes, the makeshift counter. "Just checking on my investment."
Lara laughed, the sound sharp. "You're not fooling anyone. You own the block. You knew exactly what was happening here."
Alex's eyes locked onto hers, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I miss the fights?"
Her pulse fluttered. Old patterns, old wounds. "We're not doing this," Lara said, her voice firm.
Alex prowled closer, his movements fluid, predatory. "You never answered."
"Coffee. You said no. I'm asking why."
Lara's throat tightened. She could still smell the rain that night, still feel the ache in her chest. "You know why."
Silence hung between them, thick and heavy. Alex stopped inches away, his voice low, rough. "I hurt you."
Her voice barely whispered. "You left."
His jaw clenched. "I was young. I made mistakes."
"Six years ago?" Lara's voice rose, the pain still raw. "You broke me, Alex."
Alex sighed, the sound almost imperceptible. "I've changed."
Lara shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping. "I don't trust you. You've never been honest with me."
He leaned in, his breath whispering against her skin. "I still feel it."
Her lips parted. The air thickened. Memories flooded back – the way he used to touch her, the way he used to make her feel like she was the only person in the world.
The doorbell jolted. Lara jumped, her heart racing.
Alex stepped back, his mask slipping back into place, smooth and unreadable. "See you around, Lara."
The door swung shut. Lara breathed, her mind racing. _What just happened?_
A delivery guy broke the spell. "Lara Thompson? Order."
Lara nodded, brain foggy. Alex Reed still pushed buttons, still got under her skin.
The past lingered, a shadow over _Sweet Dreams_. This bakery wasn't just a business – it was a battlefield.
Lara locked up, the night swallowing her doubts. Tomorrow she'd bake, tomorrow she'd conquer. But tonight, the shadows held secrets.
Alex's words echoed in her mind: "I still feel it."
What did he mean? And what was he hiding?
Lara's instincts screamed at her to be careful. Alex Reed was trouble, and she was playing with fire.
But she couldn't shake the feeling that she was already in too deep.
The night dragged on, the city outside her window a blur of lights and sounds. Lara's thoughts swirled, a mix of fear and anticipation. She'd faced Alex Reed before, and she could do it again.
But this time, she wasn't the same girl he'd left behind. This time, she was ready.
Or was she?
The darkness closed in, the silence a heavy blanket. Lara's eyes snapped open, her heart racing. She was not alone.
But when she turned, there was no one there.
Just the shadows, watching her.
Lara shook her head, pushing the feeling aside. She was being paranoid. Alex was just trying to get under her skin.
But the feeling lingered, a nagging sense that something was off.
She'd have to be careful. _Sweet Dreams_ was her dream, and she wouldn't let Alex Reed ruin it.
The night wore on, the hours ticking by slowly. Lara's eyelids grew heavy, her body aching with exhaustion. She'd get a few hours' sleep, and then start again.
But as she drifted off, she couldn't shake the feeling that Alex was watching her, waiting for her.
And that he'd be back.
Lara's eyes snapped open, her heart racing. She was not alone.
But when she turned, there was no one there.
Just the shadows, watching her.