Chapter 4
1161 Words
(SOPHIA POV)
That afternoon, I was adjusting the hem of a lace gown on the mannequin when I heard the hoarse voice of my boss calling my name outside.
“Sophia!”
I straightened instinctively.
“Yes, ma’am!”
I called back, setting down the pins I had been holding.
She didn’t reply, so I hurried to find her.
I stepped outside the main floor and spotted her near the shop's entrance, standing beside a familiar figure.
It was Mrs. Delaney,
the elegant woman who had brought in the burgundy evening gown that I had been working on since yesterday.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Delaney,”
I greeted.
“Ah, there you are, Sophia,”
Mrs. Delaney said with a gracious nod.
“I’ll just go grab your dress,”
I said politely, excusing myself.
She smiled.
“Take your time, my dear.”
I turned quickly and slipped back inside,
The storage room smelled of fabric softener.
I walked to the corner where Mrs. Delaney’s dress hung, Pulling it carefully off the rack,
The stitching was neat and precise, just as I had left it.
Satisfied, I nodded to myself and draped the gown carefully over my arm before I started heading back outside.
When I returned,
Mrs. Hart and Mrs. Delaney were still standing by the door, chatting about something inconsequential.
I stepped forward and handed the gown to Mrs. Delaney wearing a small smile.
“Here you are,”
I said.
Mrs. Delaney’s eyes lit up as she unfolded the dress
“Oh, it’s perfect,”
she said warmly, her tone full of satisfaction
“You’ve outdone yourself, Sophia. Your skill is remarkable…perhaps the best in the shop. Wouldn't you agree, Mrs. Hart?”
She was smiling,
but Mrs. Hart quickly interjected.
“Well, you flatter us, Mrs. Delaney,”
But I must say, I handled most of the intricate work myself. Sophia is still learning, of course.”
That was a lie.
Mrs. Delaney paused,
She glanced from Mrs. Hart to myself, her brow knitting slightly.
“Oh?”
She murmured, clearly unconvinced,
Just as she opened her mouth to say something else, Mrs. Hart cut in again.
“Sophia, could you head inside and make sure the fitting room is ready for our next client?”
I blinked, caught off guard.
“I already did…”
“Now, please,”
she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
I swallowed my protest, forcing myself to nod
. “Of course,”
I said quietly, turning back toward the shop.
Later that afternoon, as I chatted with one of our regular customers, Mrs. Kinsley, about her upcoming gala,
She gestured animatedly as she spoke, while I nodded along,
"And I simply must have something that makes me stand out. You know how these events are,"
she said, waving a hand.
I smiled politely.
"Of course, Mrs. Kinsley. We’ll make sure you have the perfect piece. Please feel free to stop by next week when we’ll have the new designs ready."
“Sure sure” She nodded approvingly.
Just as Mrs. Kinsley adjusted her scarf and started to take her leave,
I noticed another figure approaching from the distance.
By his side were two men in sharp black suits.
The sight of them made me pause, a strange anxiety creeping into my chest.
The man at the center of the group immediately drew my attention.
The guy moved with this air of effortless confidence, his broad shoulders made him look all the more intimidating.
His tailored navy suit hugged his tall frame perfectly, and as the sunlight touched his face, it glowed.
He was stunning,
sharp cheekbones, and standing dark hair.
But it was his eyes that truly stopped me. Ice-blue and piercing, they carried a familiarity that unsettled me.
Something about him kept pulling at a memory buried deep, as though I had seen him before…somewhere, somehow.
Could this be the same man I had caught a glimpse of earlier, in that car when I arrived.
I stiffened, as I continued to watch them approach
The closer they came, the more the scent of his cologne filled the air.
As his eyes finally locked onto mine, I froze entirely.
Those eyes… they weren’t just striking; they seemed to see right through me.
Recognition stirred within me, but I couldn’t quite place him.
Before I could gather myself, he opened his mouth to speak, but the sudden sound of a phone ringing in his pocket interrupted the moment.
He pulled it out and glanced at it,
“Excuse me,” he said.
I nodded mutely, still transfixed, as he stepped aside to answer the call.
The taller of the two suited men that came with him turned toward me, bowing slightly.
“Miss,”
the bodyguard began, his tone courteous yet businesslike,
“my employer is interested in commissioning an exclusive custom design. Something unique for an important business deal.”
I forced myself to focus, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear as I responded.
“Oh okay I… I see. Of course. We specialize in custom pieces here.”
The guard nodded, continuing,
“It needs to be discreet but memorable, a symbol of trust and elegance. Would it be possible to arrange a consultation?”
“I’ll let my boss know,” I said, my voice steadying as I gestured toward the shop.
“She’s just ins…”
My words trailed off as the voice of their boss who was on the phone rose slightly and cut us off.
“…My parents won’t stop pressuring me. Look honestly, if that…Carla girl …wasn't such a w***e, I would’ve dragged her into this deal.”
My ears burned, but I couldn’t help but listen.
His voice dropped slightly, but I caught the most scandalous part.
“Just find someone. Any girl in this city willing to take $100,000 and play wife for two years. I don’t care who she is, as long as she keeps her mouth shut.”
I gasped audibly, my hand flying to my mouth.
My heart thundered in my chest as I tried to process what I had just overheard.
Before I could recover, Mrs. Hart emerged from the shop, her expression a mix of bewilderment and awe.
Her eyes widened as she observed the man who had now ended his call, she practically stumbled over her words.
“Adrian Cross!” she exclaimed, her voice thick with nervous excitement.
“What brings you to my humble shop?”
My head snapped back toward the man, my eyes almost popping from their socket.
My heart lurched as realization hit me.
Adrian Cross?
The name rattled through my mind, unlocking memories long buried.
I twisted my neck to get a better look at him.
The height, the sharp jawline, the aura of authority this wasn’t just anyone.
This was the boy I had saved all those years ago.
The Cross kid.
- Writer
