Sudden Love (English Version)

Chapter 9 part 2

Godric, ever the embodiment of quiet authority, turned to the manager with a firm yet composed expression. His tone, once lighthearted, now carried a weight that demanded attention.

“I came here for a reason,” he stated smoothly, his voice unwavering. “Please, give my date a complete makeover. Hair, makeup, and a dress. We’re having lunch today.”

The moment those words left his lips, the atmosphere in the boutique shifted entirely. The playful air that had lingered between us earlier disappeared, replaced by something sharper—something commanding. He wasn’t making a request. He was issuing an order, the kind that left no room for negotiation.

A silent exchange passed between Godric and the manager, a woman whose poised demeanor wavered for a fraction of a second under his gaze. It was as if an invisible thread of understanding stretched between them, a history in which Godric’s word was law within these walls.

Then, his eyes flickered toward mine, and suddenly, everything else faded into the background. His piercing gaze sought my approval, an unspoken question lingering in the space between us. Are you okay with this?

I hesitated, my heartbeat quickening. There was something about the way he was looking at me—something unreadable yet expectant. And in that moment, I realized he wasn’t just trying to impress me. He was making a statement. A declaration to everyone around us.

I swallowed, then gave him a slight nod.

With that, the manager—who I would soon come to know as Marie Osawa—stepped forward, her composed mask slipping into something more accommodating. “Right this way, Miss,” she said, motioning for me to follow.

As she guided me deeper into the boutique, weaving through racks of high-end dresses and gleaming vanity stations, she suddenly let out a sigh and turned to face me.

“I need to apologize,” she admitted, looking genuinely remorseful. “I was completely out of line earlier.”

I tilted my head slightly, curious.

She exhaled, her fingers pressing together as if weighing her words. “It’s just… I wasn’t used to seeing Sir with someone else.” She hesitated, then continued, “Normally, when he’s with a woman, it’s either Ms. Valerie—who always looks flawless—or a member of their personal security. So when I saw you…” She trailed off, looking sheepish. “Well, I assumed. And that was wrong of me. I’m really sorry.”

Ms. Valerie.

The name rang in my ears, setting off an unwelcome pang in my chest.

Of course. There had to be someone. Someone from his past. Someone the staff already knew. Someone who was once—or perhaps still—important to him.

I forced a smile, shoving away the nagging feeling clawing at the edges of my thoughts. “It’s okay,” I reassured her.

Marie gave me a small, appreciative nod, then extended a hand. “I’m Marie Osawa, by the way.”

“Aphrodite Mionefleur,” I introduced myself, shaking her hand.

Marie Osawa.

The name tickled the back of my mind, as if I had heard it before. But before I could dwell on it, she was already ushering me toward a plush salon chair, ready to work her magic.

She moved quickly, her fingers weaving through my hair with practiced ease. The faint scent of floral shampoo and heat from the styling tools filled the air as she worked, adding soft, golden highlights that framed my face perfectly. When she finished, my hair gleamed under the boutique’s warm lighting—sleek, glossy, the kind of effortless beauty that belonged in a magazine.

Then came the makeup. Marie worked with precision, blending and brushing with an artist’s touch. The result was breathtaking yet understated—flawless skin, subtly accentuated eyes, lips tinted just enough to make them look naturally kissable.

And finally, the dress.

She pulled a breathtaking gray gown from the rack—a soft, flowing fabric that shimmered with every movement. It was a balloon-style dress, cinched at the waist with delicate lace accents trailing along the hem. The kind of dress that looked like it belonged in a fairy tale, far too expensive for me to even think about checking the price tag.

The sandals she paired with it matched perfectly—gray, elegant, with a four-inch heel that I somehow managed to walk in without embarrassing myself.

When I finally saw myself in the mirror, I barely recognized the girl staring back.

I looked… expensive. Like I belonged in this world of designer brands, lavish boutiques, and impossible wealth.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself before stepping out of the boutique.

The clock was inching toward 11:30, and my heart was pounding in anticipation.

Marie led me toward the entrance, where Godric was waiting.

And the moment his gaze landed on me, everything else seemed to slow.

Godric sat in the far corner of the boutique’s waiting area, completely engrossed in a magazine. His posture was relaxed yet effortlessly commanding, one leg crossed over the other, fingers idly flipping through the glossy pages. He wore a simple white sweatshirt, the fabric draping over his frame in a way that somehow made him look even more refined, paired with a sleek black scarf that rested loosely around his neck.

It was unfair, really. He didn’t even have to try. While some people spent hours curating their appearance, agonizing over every detail, Godric existed in a state of perpetual perfection. The kind of effortless, maddeningly natural beauty that made the world stop and stare.

I had foolishly believed he couldn’t possibly get any more handsome.

I was wrong.

As I walked toward him, my steps were lighter than usual, my confidence soaring in a way I hadn’t expected. It wasn’t arrogance—it was just the realization that, for once, I wasn’t blending into the background. I wasn’t invisible.

Marie’s voice cut through my thoughts, snapping me back to reality.

“Sir, she’s ready,” she said, her tone carrying a touch of excitement.

Godric barely reacted. His eyes remained fixed on the magazine, his fingers continuing to absentmindedly turn the pages. The silence stretched between us, and the anticipation became unbearable.

Marie cleared her throat. “Sir, I said she’s ready,” she repeated, her voice firmer this time, emphasizing every word.

Still, Godric didn’t look up immediately.

His patience, however, seemed to wane as he finally let out an exasperated sigh. With a sharp movement, he stood, ready to respond with frustration.

“I said—”

But the words never fully formed.

The moment his gaze landed on me, it was as if the entire world had tilted on its axis. His irritation vanished in an instant, replaced by something entirely different—something I wasn’t prepared for.

His eyes softened, dark pupils dilating slightly as he took me in.

I watched, stunned, as the magazine he had been holding slipped from his fingers, falling to the floor with a soft thud.

His breath hitched.

His expression—usually unreadable and composed—was now filled with something raw, something vulnerable.

He was staring at me. Really staring at me, as if trying to memorize every detail, as if he was seeing me for the very first time.

Marie, clearly noticing the shift in atmosphere, tilted her head in amusement. “Sir, is everything okay?” she asked, though her knowing smirk suggested she already had her answer.

Godric blinked, seemingly breaking free from his trance. He cleared his throat, but his voice came out softer than usual. “Yes, yes,” he murmured, still not taking his eyes off me. Then, almost as if the words had slipped out before he could stop them, he added,

“She looks… perfect.”

The boutique felt impossibly quiet.

My stomach flipped, my pulse hammering in my ears. Perfect?

I had spent my life feeling adequate at best. I was used to blending in, to existing in the periphery while others took center stage. But here was Godric—this enigma of a man, this impossibly beautiful force of nature—looking at me like I was something extraordinary.

I struggled to process it.

Marie, ever the instigator, decided to push things further. “How do you feel about Ms. Aphrodite, Sir?” she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.

Godric exhaled, tilting his head slightly as he studied me. There was no hesitation in his next words.

“I think… she’s a Goddess.”

My heart skipped.

A Goddess?

My mind scrambled to process the sheer weight of that word. Goddess was… too much. An exaggeration, surely. My lips parted in protest, but the look in his eyes—the way he said it—made me pause.

He meant it.

Marie, satisfied with the effect of her question, quickly excused herself to find the manager, leaving us in a silence that crackled with unspoken thoughts.

I swallowed, my fingers instinctively brushing against the fabric of my dress. The tension between us was almost suffocating.

Godric finally broke it.

“You look amazing,” he said, his voice lower, softer. He wasn’t just being polite. There was something in the way he said it, something that sent a shiver down my spine.

“Thanks,” I replied, suddenly shy under his gaze. “You look great too.”

What I wanted to say was, You look like a dream. You look so ridiculously handsome I might actually faint.

Before I could dwell on it, Manager Ferta arrived, and the transaction began.

Godric pulled out his card, sliding it across the counter without hesitation. The screen flickered, displaying the total.

563,589.46 pesos.

I nearly choked.

How much?!

Was everything really worth that? The sheer number made my head spin. I had never even seen a price that high for clothes and styling alone. It was absurd. Unbelievable.

Yet, Godric didn’t even blink.

I barely had time to process my shock before he turned to me with a sudden command.

“Circle your arm around mine.”

I hesitated, confused by the abruptness. “What?”

He sighed, his tone firm. “Just do it.”

Uncertain but unwilling to argue, I slipped my arm through his, feeling the solid warmth of his body next to mine.

And just like that, we were moving.

We walked through the mall, much like we had in the school parking lot, but this time, something was different. He wasn’t just leading me—he was presenting me. As if he wanted the world to see. As if he was telling everyone she is with me.

He held onto me with quiet confidence, guiding me with a protective hand as we descended the stairs.

Before stepping into the car, I caught a glimpse of him sending a text, his fingers moving quickly over his phone screen.

I didn’t know who he was messaging.

But for some reason, I felt oddly content. Happy. Happier than I had been in ages.

This was something I never expected. A feeling I never thought I would experience.

And as we left the mall, stepping into the unknown together, I felt like I was walking on air.