Chapter Five
1517 Words
Vivian leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. “There are plenty of designers in New York. Why me?”
Nicholas smirked, his piercing blue eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Because you hate to lose.”
Vivian’s jaw tightened. He knew exactly how to get under her skin.
And worse? She hated that a small part of her was intrigued.
For years, she had buried whatever complicated feelings she’d had toward Nicholas under layers of professionalism.
But now? Now he was here, sitting across from her, acting as if they could pick up where they left off.
Vivian exhaled slowly, keeping her composure. “If you’re expecting me to jump at this opportunity, you clearly haven’t changed at all.”
Nicholas chuckled, leaning forward slightly. “And if you’re hesitating, that means you’re at least considering it.”
Damn him.
Vivian tapped her fingers against her desk, pretending to weigh her options. But the truth was, she already knew she would say yes.
Because Nicholas was right.
She hated to lose.
And she had a feeling that whatever game they were about to play?
It was just beginning.
…
Back to Ava
Ava had no idea about the storm brewing around her. She spent her afternoon at the bookstore café, sipping on a caramel latte as she ignored the persistent texts from a certain guy.
Ryan.
He was sweet, kind, and undeniably handsome, but Ava just wasn’t interested. Still, he never gave up.
Her phone buzzed again.
Ryan: Dinner tonight? My treat.
Ava sighed, staring at the message. She liked Jake as a friend, but he wanted more. And right now, with the strange dreams haunting her nights, and the nagging sense of unease that wouldn’t leave her alone, she didn’t have time for romance.
Something was changing. She could feel it in her bones.
And soon, she would learn why.
…
When Ava got home from work her parents try talk to her. Asking about her dreams lately but she hesitate and told them in a dismissive tone she doesn't have any dream
In the morning
The Sinclair mansion was quiet that morning, but Eleanor Sinclair's mind was restless. She stood by the large bay window of her bedroom, gazing at the city skyline as the weight of unspoken truths pressed heavily on her chest.
Ava had always been their precious secret, a child born under mysterious circumstances, her true nature hidden even from herself. But now, time was running out.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. Williams stood at the doorway, his expression weary.
“You didn’t sleep,” he observed.
“How could I?” Eleanor turned to face him. “She’s already sensing something. You saw the way she hesitated yesterday when we asked about her dreams.”
Williams sighed, stepping into the room. “I know. But what can we do? She’s not ready for the truth. If we tell her now, she might—”
“She might run, Williams. She might not want to hear it.” Eleanor’s voice cracked slightly. “But if we don’t tell her, someone else will.”
A deep silence settled between them. The fear of losing Ava—to the truth, to the prophecy, or to something far worse—was a nightmare neither of them wanted to face.
---
At the Bookstore Café
Ava leaned against the counter, flipping through a book while the morning rush slowed down. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and the soft chatter of customers created a comforting hum in the background.
Tasha, her best friend and co-worker, plopped down on the stool beside her.
“You’ve been acting weird lately,” Tasha commented, stirring her iced coffee. “Like, super weird.”
Ava rolled her eyes. “Thanks for that deep psychological analysis, Dr. Tasha.”
“I’m serious,” Tasha insisted. “You’ve been zoning out a lot. And let’s not forget that you rejected Ryan’s dinner invitation yesterday. That guy is practically the definition of boyfriend material.”
Ava groaned. “Not you too. My mom already asked me why I haven’t given him a chance.”
“Well, maybe she’s right,” Tasha teased, wiggling her eyebrows. “He’s handsome, polite, and rich—what more could you want?”
“I don’t know,” Ava murmured, tracing the rim of her coffee cup. “I just feel like... something is missing. Like, dating him would be nice, but not right.”
Tasha leaned in. “Is this about the dreams?”
Ava stiffened. “I told you, they’re just dreams.”
“Yeah, but the way you described them? Voices calling your name—but not your name? That’s freaky, Ava. What if it means something?”
Ava shrugged, forcing a laugh. “It probably just means I need more sleep.”
Tasha didn’t look convinced, but before she could press further, the café door chimed.
Ava turned—and her breath hitched.
A man walked in, exuding a presence that demanded attention. He was tall, dressed in an immaculate dark suit, his cold blue eyes scanning the room like he owned the place.
It was Damien Blackwood.
The CEO of Blackwood Enterprises, one of the most feared businessmen in the country.
And the man she had seen in her dreams.
Ava’s fingers trembled as she gripped her cup. Why was he here?
Tasha, oblivious to Ava’s reaction, let out a low whistle. “Damn. That’s Damien Blackwood. What’s a billionaire doing in our tiny café?”
Ava had no answer.
Ava forced herself to take a slow sip of her tea, hoping Tasha wouldn’t notice how tightly she was gripping the cup. Her heart pounded in her chest, an unfamiliar sense of unease creeping into her veins.
She had never met Damien Blackwood before—not in reality, at least. Yet, his face, his presence, his piercing blue eyes… they weren’t unfamiliar. She had seen him before. In her dreams.
Dreams that felt too vivid to be just figments of her imagination.
Tasha nudged her, completely unaware of Ava’s turmoil. “He’s even more intimidating in person. I heard he barely interacts with people outside of business. Ruthless, arrogant, and filthy rich. Not exactly the type to stroll into a bookstore café for a casual visit.”
Ava swallowed, forcing a response. “Maybe he has a meeting.”
Tasha shrugged, watching as Damien spoke in low tones to the café owner. A few heads turned in his direction, but most people avoided staring too long. His presence carried an unspoken rule: don’t get in his way.
Ava lowered her gaze, hoping to blend into the background.
But then, as if sensing her presence, Damien’s sharp gaze flickered in her direction.
For a split second, their eyes met.
Ava’s breath hitched. It was just a glance—cold, impassive, as if he had merely scanned the room. But for her, it felt like time had stopped.
Then, just as quickly, he looked away, as if she was nothing more than a passing shadow.
Ava exhaled slowly, her fingers loosening around her cup. What was she expecting? That he would recognize her? That he would react?
Of course not.
She was just an ordinary woman. And he… he was Damien Blackwood.
But then why did it feel like something inside her had just shifted? Like a thread had been pulled, unraveling something she wasn’t ready to face?
Tasha continued talking, but Ava barely heard her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this encounter was not a coincidence.
Something was changing.
And it was only the beginning.
...
Blackwood Enterprises – Damien’s Office
The city skyline stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of Damien Blackwood’s office, bathed in the fading glow of the evening sun. He stood near the glass, hands tucked into his pockets, his expression unreadable.
Behind him, Marcus shifted uneasily. “Sir, are you certain it was her?”
Damien didn’t respond immediately. His mind replayed the brief moment at the café—the girl’s face, the way she tensed when their eyes met, the unmistakable pull.
It was her.
Ava Sinclair.
The name had been in his files for months, buried among countless reports. He had people keeping tabs on her, but until now, she had been nothing more than an anomaly—a person who shouldn’t exist yet did.
“Her scent was… different,” Damien finally murmured, more to himself than to Marcus. “Not fully human, yet not a werewolf either.”
Marcus frowned. “Then what is she?”
Silence hung between them. That was the question, wasn’t it?
Damien turned away from the window, his expression darkening. “Find out everything there is to know about her. No mistakes this time.”
Marcus hesitated. “And if she’s truly the one from the prophecy?”
Damien’s jaw tightened.
Then everything changes.
But he didn’t say that aloud. Instead, he simply gave Marcus a sharp look, one that meant the conversation was over.
Marcus nodded, taking the unspoken order before leaving the office.
- Writer
