Tattooed in Moonlight

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

When I woke up the next morning, three things greeted me:

1. A pounding headache, courtesy of too much wine and too much billionaire-induced stress.

2. The lingering echo of Travis Javierres's voice in my head: Don't bother convincing yourself this was nothing.

3. My phone, vibrating like it was possessed.

I groaned, dragged the phone out from under my pillow, and instantly regretted it.

Manager (12 missed calls).

Dad's office (8 missed calls).

Best friend Lila (27 messages, all caps).

And, of course, the headlines.

Global Daily: President's Daughter Linked to Javierres After Mysterious Rooftop Encounter.

Asian Insider: #KairaSeesTheDragon Trend Explodes—Could She Be "The One"?

BuzzScoop: Five Times Kaira and Travis Could've Secretly Met Before. (Number Four Will Shock You!)

I dropped the phone on my chest and covered my eyes with my other hand. "Kill me now."

The internet had officially turned my life into a telenovela. The problem? They weren't entirely wrong.

The memory of that glowing tattoo was burned into my brain. The way it shimmered in the moonlight, wrapping around his back like the stars themselves had branded him. And worse—the way his eyes had caught mine afterward, sharp and certain, like he already knew what it meant.

I shoved the pillow over my head. "Nope. We are not thinking about that."

The phone buzzed again. Lila this time. I gave in and opened her messages.

Lila: OMG ARE YOU ENGAGED???

Lila: Tell me you're engaged.

Lila: Okay fine maybe not engaged but DEFINITELY involved.

Lila: Babe you're literally trending worldwide. I can't even order coffee without someone whispering "Kaira and the Dragon."

Lila: ...also pls don't tell me he has a dragon tattoo. That's too hot. I'll combust.

I groaned. "Oh, for crying out loud."

I typed back quickly: Not engaged. Not involved. Just cursed.

Her typing bubbles popped up instantly. Cursed by what, his abs??

I threw the phone aside. Friends were useless in times of crisis.

The bathroom mirror wasn't much better. My reflection looked like a woman who'd just lost a fight with social media and possibly destiny. Hair wild, under-eyes dark, expression somewhere between rage and panic.

I jabbed a finger at my reflection. "You're going to fix this. Damage control. Crisis management. You are not the woman who gets dragged into a billionaire's PR stunt."

Except... I was.

Because no matter how many times I told myself it was coincidence, the universe (or fate, or Travis Javierres himself) kept pulling me back into his orbit.

I showered, dressed in oversized sunglasses and a casual jumpsuit—low profile, celebrity disguise 101. If I acted normal, if I looked boring, maybe I could get through the day without being turned into another meme.

I was halfway down the hall to the gym when I realized my plan was already doomed.

Because there he was.