The late morning sunlight filtered through the boutique windows, casting a golden glow over rows of elegant gowns and glittering accessories. Evelyn stood in front of a full-length mirror, a soft blush-toned dress hugging her figure, the satin catching light as she moved.
“This one?” she asked, turning slightly toward her friends.
“Absolutely not,” Lila declared, flipping her perfectly curled hair. “Too safe. You’re about to marry Valentine Valare, not attend a tea party.”
“You want something that says 'I might be soft but I bite',” Celeste added with a calm smile.
They’re right… If I’m marrying a man who can look like he walked out of a high-fashion ad, I should at least try to match the aesthetic.
Evelyn laughed, slipping behind the curtain again. As she changed, she heard her friends chattering outside.
“Do you think she’s nervous?” Celeste asked.
“Of course. I would be. He’s gorgeous, successful, and a complete mystery. That’s either dream or nightmare material,” Lila replied.
Definitely both, Evelyn thought, pulling on the next dress—one with off-shoulder sleeves and a daring slit. She stepped out, and both women gasped.
“Now that’s a bridal look,” Lila whispered. “He won’t survive this.”
“It’s perfect,” Celeste agreed. “Just enough elegance and just enough… tension.”
They were interrupted by the soft buzz of Evelyn’s phone.
“It’s Valentine,” she said, reading the message. “He’s wrapping up lunch and wants to pick me up.”
“Good,” Lila said. “I was hoping to finally meet the man myself.”
Valentine exited the luxury sedan with effortless grace, his tailored black shirt rolled up at the sleeves, exposing strong forearms. His dark eyes scanned the sidewalk until they landed on her. A subtle, possessive warmth flickered in them.
“You look…” he began, then paused, taking her in. “Beautiful doesn’t cover it.”
He’s so composed. Like he never breaks... but he looks at me like I could unravel him.
Evelyn smiled and turned toward her friends. “Valentine, meet Lila and Celeste—my two closest friends.”
He extended a hand to each in turn. “It’s good to meet the people important to Evelyn.”
“Likewise,” Celeste said, giving him a polite nod.
“We’ve heard a lot about you,” Lila added, her tone playful but probing. “Nice to finally see the legend in person.”
Valentine gave a small, unreadable smile. “I hope I live up to it.”
He’s polite. Reserved. But not cold—not to me. And he watched me the whole time, like I’m the only thing in focus.
Later, back at Evelyn’s penthouse, the air was cooler, the curtains drawn to dim the golden hour. Evelyn sat on the velvet sofa, kicking off her heels with a sigh.
Valentine, who had insisted on carrying all her bags himself, set them down by the door.
“Did you have fun?” he asked, his voice lower, more intimate now that they were alone.
“Yeah,” she murmured, curling her feet beneath her. “But it’s exhausting trying on dresses for hours.”
“Then let me take care of the rest of the evening,” he said, already pulling out his phone.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” His gaze pinned her.
Why does he always say things like that… like he means more than he says?
She nodded softly. “Okay.”
Dinner was quiet—at least in public. They went to a private suite in a high-end rooftop restaurant Valentine reserved. Candlelight flickered between them.
He cut her steak for her without asking. Not in a condescending way—more like a silent instinct.
“You’re… different in private,” she commented.
“Different how?”
“Softer.”
A faint smirk curved his lips. “Only for you.”
Why does that make my heart trip like that? He’s so intense—so careful. But I feel… safe.
She looked away to hide her face, but he caught her hand across the table. His thumb brushed her knuckles, slow and deliberate.
“Are you nervous about the wedding?” he asked, watching her too closely.
“A little,” she admitted. “Not about you. Just… what it means. Giving someone that kind of trust.”
He was quiet for a moment. Then, “You don’t have to give it all at once. Just enough to let me earn the rest.”
God… why is he saying the exact right things? He’s not supposed to feel like this already… right?
Back in the car, his hand remained linked with hers. Valentine’s driver took them back to Evelyn’s penthouse, the familiar skyline glimmering beyond the tinted windows as dusk began to settle.
Once inside, Evelyn kicked off her heels again, sighing. Valentine loosened his shirt collar and stepped closer.
There was a pause.
“You don’t have to be so perfect all the time,” she said, not meeting his eyes.
He tilted her chin up gently. “What if I want to be, for you?”
Before she could reply, his hands slid around her waist, pulling her into him. Her breath hitched at the heat between them—the closeness. She didn’t move.
“Valentine…”
“Tell me to stop, and I will.”
She didn’t.
Instead, she placed her palms on his chest, feeling his heart beat beneath the fabric. He bent slightly, their foreheads brushing.
“This doesn’t have to move fast,” he whispered. “But it will always be real.”
Why does this feel more dangerous than it should? Like I’m standing on the edge of something beautiful… and I want to fall.
His lips hovered near her cheek but didn’t touch. He waited.
She leaned forward, just a little, her breath grazing his skin.
“Stay,” she whispered.
His arms wrapped tighter around her. “Always.”
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