Becoming His Queen 👸🏽 UPDATED STORY

Chapter One

 A Taste of Ordinary

The sun was blazing in East Los Angeles, and I was already drenched in sweat before even reaching Tony's Grill. As a waitress here, the days felt repetitive—serving customers, flashing polite smiles, and rushing back to the kitchen to fill more orders. My life had become a blur of coffee refills, half-eaten plates, and tips that barely covered rent.

It wasn't glamorous, but it was honest work. I didn't hate it; at least it kept my mind occupied.

The clattering of dishes broke my thoughts as I hurried to clear a recently vacated booth. Tony, the gruff but surprisingly soft-hearted owner, gave me a nod. "Morning, Nyla. Ready for another day in paradise?"

I flashed a grin. "Always, Tony. Always."

As I grabbed the coffee pot to make my rounds, I thought about Bella, my tiny dog and constant companion. Every morning, we'd go for a quick walk, her tiny legs pattering beside me as I sipped my cheap coffee from the corner café. It wasn't much, but it was our routine. Today, she was at Treasure's pet salon—a place she adored. My best friend, Treasure, treated Bella like royalty there.

"Nyla, order up!" barked Manny, the cook, jolting me back to reality.

I hurried to the counter and picked up two orders of pancakes with a side of bacon, balancing them like a pro as I weaved through tables. A group of rowdy teenagers had just walked in, and I knew it would be one of those mornings—filled with noise, mess, and terrible tips.

As I made my way to a table near the window, my gaze drifted outside. The street was alive with tourists, locals, and ambitious food trucks lining the sidewalks. The city was always moving, as if urging me to keep pace or risk falling behind.

The front door swung open with a creak, and I looked up. A man walked in, his presence immediately different from the usual diner crowd. He had tousled hair, a confident stance, and wore jeans paired with a crisp white shirt that spoke of casual elegance.

I shook off the spark of curiosity that flickered inside me. I was here to work, not to daydream about men who'd never be interested in someone like me—a waitress with a tiny apartment in East LA and a stubborn streak.

He caught my gaze, flashed a quick smile, and found a seat in one of the booths. I swallowed the sudden wave of nerves and approached, menu in hand. "Good morning. What can I get for you today?"

He looked up, his piercing blue eyes unexpectedly warm. "What do you recommend?"

His accent was distinctly European, though I couldn't quite place it. "Our pancakes are a favorite, but the breakfast burrito isn't bad either."

"Pancakes it is, then," he said, folding the menu and handing it back. "And coffee, black."

I scribbled down his order. "Coming right up."

I walked back to the kitchen, feeling oddly rattled by the encounter. There was something about him—his aura, the way he carried himself—that felt out of place in this little diner.

As the morning unfolded, I noticed him stealing glances whenever I passed his table. When I approached to refill his coffee, he broke the silence.

"You seem to know this place well," he said, his voice low and engaging.

"I've been here long enough to know the regulars' orders by heart," I replied with a slight smirk. "You're not from around here, are you?"

He shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips. "No, just visiting. I'm Ryan, by the way."

"Nyla," I offered, my guard dropping slightly.

"It's nice to meet you, Nyla," he said, his gaze lingering a moment longer than expected. There was an intensity there, a mix of curiosity and intrigue I hadn't felt in a long time.

I returned to my duties, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the stranger who had piqued my interest in the middle of an ordinary shift. As I cleared tables, refilled drinks, and took more orders, the memory of his smile lingered.

When I returned to his booth with the check, he was looking at something on his phone. He glanced up as I placed the bill in front of him.

"Thank you, Nyla," he said, pulling out his wallet. "It's not every day you find a place with good food and better company."

His words caught me off guard. "Well, we aim to please."

He left a generous tip—enough to make me pause. As I watched him leave, I couldn't shake the feeling that this brief encounter was the start of something bigger.

The day carried on as usual, but the memory of Ryan lingered, haunting my thoughts like an unfinished melody. As I wiped down the last table and closed up the diner for the night, I found myself wondering about the man who had walked in and made a subtle mark on my otherwise ordinary day.

What I didn't realize then was that this chance meeting would be the catalyst for a series of events that would turn my world upside down.

And as I stepped out into the night, I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, things were about to change.