In the high-stakes world of New York's elite, real estate tycoon Zane Blackwells and fashion icon Livia Rook defy convention with their passionate love affair. As they navigate corporate battles and familial pressures, their bond faces relentless sc...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The evening carried an air of quiet sophistication, the hum of conversations blending seamlessly with the soft melody from the grand piano. My heels clicked against the polished floor as I navigated my way through the elegantly arranged tables, feeling the weight of a dozen curious glances.
I had agreed.
I was walking toward him now.
Richard had delivered the invitation, and I had accepted it without hesitation. But now, as I crossed the room, weaving past clusters of well-dressed strangers, I could feel the anticipation settling in my chest.
At the far end of the venue, the VIP section was slightly elevated, giving it an air of exclusivity. And at the center of it all, at the most distinguished table in the room, sat the man who had unknowingly altered the course of my evening.
I didn't need to scan the guests to know exactly where he was. His presence was undeniable. Even from across the room, it held weight.
As I approached, I caught glimpses of the people at his table—high-profile guests, industry giants, and a few familiar faces I recognized from magazines. They laughed, exchanged pleasantries, but I could feel the shift as I neared. A subtle hush. A flicker of interest.
And then, he looked up.
A brief but deliberate glance. Assessing. Calculated.
The suit I had crafted for him looked exactly as I had envisioned—commanding yet effortless, stitched with precision and purpose. And the man wearing it... well, he embodied it completely.
I reached the table just as a server stepped aside, pulling out a chair for me. Showtime.
I turned to face him fully, keeping my posture composed, my expression poised. With a polite but confident nod, I extended my hand.
"Livia Rook, founder and lead designer of Éclat Couture," I introduced myself, my voice even, professional. "It's a pleasure to finally put a face to the name."
His grip was firm, controlled, as expected from someone in his position. "Zane Blackwell, CEO of Villaments." There was a quiet authority in his voice, one that carried the weight of someone accustomed to being the most powerful person in the room.
We shook hands, a fraction of a second longer than necessary, as if we were both measuring the other.
"Your work speaks for itself," he added, his gaze unwavering. "I don't often take an interest in details like this, but this suit—" he adjusted his cuff slightly, "—it's remarkable."
I tilted my head slightly, allowing a knowing smile. "That's what I do, Mr. Blackwell. I create pieces that leave an impression."
There was a pause—subtle, but weighted. The kind that lingers in the air when two people recognize that something, even if unspoken, is at play.
I took my seat, smoothing out the fabric of my dress. "And I must say, it suits you."
His lips quirked at the wordplay, and with a slow nod, he replied, "I had a feeling it would."
