Shadows between sparks
688 Words
Liyah had one rule.
Business stays business.
No flirting. No blurred lines. No getting involved—emotionally, physically, or otherwise—with clients.
She’d built her brand on discipline and a guarded heart. In a world of sharks, being a rich girl trying to make it on her own meant one misstep could turn into a scandal. And after what happened to her mother…
She promised herself she’d never be another woman tethered to a man’s empire.
Her empire would be hers alone—crafted with bare hands, grit, and unshakable resolve.
The city’s hum felt like a memory now—muted behind velvet curtains and glass walls. Liyah sat cross-legged on the studio floor, surrounded by gemstone samples, half-drunk coffee, and pages of forgotten sketches.
The velvet box from the previous day sat in front of her. Unopened. Untouched.
Still as haunting as the man who sent it.
Rome Castellano.
She’d Googled him in the dark hours of night. What she found was a paradox.
Public appearances in tuxedos at high-profile galas. Silent whispers in underground forums. Violence. Blood. Power.
No interviews. No social media.
No smiles.
Just a name that could part crowds like the Red Sea—and a presence that lingered like smoke even long after he was gone.
Her fingers trembled as she opened the box.
Inside, nestled in black silk, was a black diamond—raw, primal, untamed.
Not cut. Not polished.
Still, it caught the light like it had a soul. Like it was alive. Like it was watching.
Liyah swallowed hard.
Her phone buzzed. Mariam.
You didn’t answer. Are you okay?
She typed: Fine. Just… focused.
Not a lie. But not the whole truth either.
Because she’d spent the night dreaming of rough hands, cold eyes, and a voice that shouldn’t have made her pulse race.
He was dangerous.
But so were diamonds.
——Rome’s pov——
“Your name shouldn’t be on this, boss.” Julius said.
Rome didn’t look up. He was studying her latest design sketch on his tablet. Just pencil and instinct, but it pulsed with something alive.
“She’s not just another jeweler,” he said quietly.
Julius, his right-hand man, exhaled through his nose. “That’s the problem. You’re making her one of us. You know how that ends.”
Rome leaned back, brushing invisible dust from his black sleeve. “She doesn’t even know who I am.”
“But she will.” Julius’s tone was flat. “Eventually.”
Rome’s gaze darkened. “Let her find out. Piece by piece. That’s the only way to see if she’s made of glass—or something far more dangerous.”
Silence settled between them.
Then Julius, voice low: “We’re not used to fire, Rome. We’re used to ashes.”
Rome smirked, slow and cold. “Then maybe it’s time we try burning again.”
——Liyah’s pov——
Later that night, after the team had left and the streetlights flickered like dying stars, Liyah opened her laptop.
She began the sketch again—but this time, it wasn’t detached.
It was personal.
The lines were bolder. Sharper. She wove in serpent motifs. Hidden blades. Crimson edges that whispered warnings.
This wasn’t just a necklace anymore.
It was a story.
His story.
Or hers.
She couldn’t tell.
All she knew was that this commission had become something more.
It had become obsession.
Then—ding.
The doorbell.
1:13 a.m.
She opened the door without hesitation.
A man in black stood there. Cap low, face hidden. He said nothing. Just held out another box.
No name. No card. Just that chilling silence.
“Wait—who sent this?” she called as he turned.
He paused. “Rome Castellano.”
Then disappeared into the night.
Liyah closed the door with shaking hands and placed the second box beside the first.
She opened it slowly.
Inside: a silver-engraved message.
Not all diamonds are made to be worn. Some are meant to cut.
And beneath its a photograph.
Of her.
Taken from across the street.
Her window. Her smile.
Someone had been watching.
- Writer
