to be steadier than I felt. He gestured to the seat across from him. "Sit." I did. He studied me for a long moment, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing details he planned to reca

d pack," he continued, already turning away. "My driver will pick you up tomorrow morning." Just like that, he walked off. No lingering glance. No reassurance. No warmth. I sat there for a long moment, staring at the signed contract in front of me, my heartbeat pounded in my ears. Around me, the lounge continued humming,soft laughter, clinking glasses. I felt like I had stepped into another world and left my body behind. My phone felt heavy in my hand as I dialed Tessa. "Ophie?" she answered immediately. "I think I just sold my life," I said breathlessly. There was silence. "Did you sign?" "Yes." She screamed. "But listen...order food. Real food. If you're stepping into fine dining, you had better start practicing." By the time I got home, Tessa was already pacing the room, her face flushed, eyes shining like she had won the lottery herself. "You did it," she said, grabbing my hands. "You actually did it." "I don't know if I should be scared or relieved," I admitted. "Both," she laughed. We ate cross-legged on the bed, laughing between bites, planning outfits that didn't exist yet. I packed my best clothes, the few dresses that weren't faded, shoes with worn soles, memories folded between them. The next morning, a horn blared outside our apartment, deep, polished, expensive. My phone buzzed. "A ride is waiting when you're ready." Tessa rushed to the window and gasped. "Ophie... that car is bigger than our future." I laughed, but my chest felt tight. The mansion was nothing like I imagined. It was worse. Bigger. Colder. Controlled. Lucien looked at my suitcase once and smirked. "There will be no need for those," he said flatly. "They won't fit the image." I felt small. Exposed. Stylists arrived. Boxes foll