LOGINGrace went all out during her first two days in New York. There was just too much to eat, too much to see, too many quirky little things to buy—it had her wondering, just for a moment, if she should ditch everything and move to this fast-paced, fashion-forward city.
Her father spent the first day and a half handling business. The rest of the time, he quietly trailed behind her and Evelyn as they shopped, explored, and splurged—only stepping forward when it was time to pull out the black card from his pocket to foot the bill.
From Saturday to Monday, Grace dressed to the nines every day—draped in shimmer and sparkle.
She even turned Evelyn into her personal doll, dressing her up head to toe. Bu
The moonlight faded. Morning light broke through. Their wedding anniversary had officially arrived.There would be flowers, a romantic dinner, all the usual fanfare. But what Grace couldn’t stop staring at was the key in her palm—the one Raphael had already given her the night before.The real gift. Her mind was consumed now with how to design their new five-story home, complete with a courtyard and underground garage.After dinner, she went to see the house again. Her first official photo with it captured her standing in the grand foyer, still wearing her bold, red-and-blush evening gown.The plunging neckline, dramatic V cut, and cascading tulle
Grace instantly recalled that passing comment she’d made to Evelyn—how she'd always wanted a home with a pool. Raphael must’ve overheard it. And clearly, he’d taken it to heart. He even remembered her saying their current place felt too cramped.This wasn’t just a “bigger” home. It was her dream—every box checked, every detail seen. It was as if Raphael were a genie, conjuring every item on her secret wishlist.She couldn’t help it—Grace screamed.“Oh my god!” she shouted, and then, almost in the same breath, threw herself into his arms.Raphael was caught off guard, but his reflexes were quick. He caught her, held her tightly.She hugged hi
It was because of that one line—"I miss you."—that Grace carried it with her for an entire day, unable to shake it. She clutched a pillow on the soft hotel bed, rolling around like a lovesick teenager—sometimes squealing, sometimes burying her face in the duvet.The words echoed in her head on repeat, lingering until Wednesday night, when her flight finally touched down at Le Bourget Airport in Paris.The moment she stepped off the plane, she saw him—tall and poised, standing below in the soft night breeze. The wind tousled his hair, and under the amber glow of the runway lights, his features looked even more striking. His gaze locked onto hers, magnetic and unwavering.Her heart instantly kicked into high gear
Grace went all out during her first two days in New York. There was just too much to eat, too much to see, too many quirky little things to buy—it had her wondering, just for a moment, if she should ditch everything and move to this fast-paced, fashion-forward city.Her father spent the first day and a half handling business. The rest of the time, he quietly trailed behind her and Evelyn as they shopped, explored, and splurged—only stepping forward when it was time to pull out the black card from his pocket to foot the bill.From Saturday to Monday, Grace dressed to the nines every day—draped in shimmer and sparkle.She even turned Evelyn into her personal doll, dressing her up head to toe. Bu
On a sunny Saturday afternoon, Grace stepped aboard a private jet bound for New York, the flight path already cleared in advance. Her phone was still connected to a call with Raphael.On the line, his voice was gentle, full of reminders and concern.“I’m only gone for a few days. I’ll be back Wednesday,” Grace said.“Alright. I’ve got to fly to Germany on Wednesday too—but I’ll be back that same evening.”Neither wanted to hang up. They exchanged a few more reluctant words before ending the call. It would be the longest they’d been apart in recent memory.Raphael had insisted she reply to his messages every day—and absolutely
Grace shot Raphael a playful glare, then let out a cold little huff as she plopped down into his office chair. Arms crossed and lips jutted in a pout, she looked every bit the queen throwing a royal tantrum.Raphael, on the other hand, looked perfectly put together again—his shirt crisp, his cuffs neat, as though nothing had happened. Not that it ever got too disheveled to begin with. But her?Her torn stockings sat pitifully to the side. Luckily, she hadn’t come in just that dress—she still had her long white coat that reached her ankles. If she hadn’t… she might’ve murdered him on the spot.







