로그인Daisy's POVThe apartment was quiet when I let myself in.I kicked off my heels at the door and padded barefoot across the hardwood, the cold seeping through my feet. My legs ached. My back ached. My face ached from smiling at strangers who'd wanted to congratulate me, photograph me, tell me how wonderful I was.I wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a week.But first, I needed to breathe.I poured myself a glass of wine and sank onto the couch. The window looked out over the city, and I watched the lights flicker in the distance. Milan at night. Beautiful. Lonely.Bradley’s voice still lingered in my head—"Come with me"—low and warm enough to feel like a hand at the small of my back. Natalie had been nearly vibrating, insisting he was flirting, that a man like that didn’t look at a woman the way he had looked at me unless he wanted more than conversation. I told myself it wasn’t true. I didn’t want it to be true. I'd spent five years building walls, and I wasn't about to let a man
Daisy's POV"Where, exactly are you asking me to come with you?" I asked, buying myself a second to think, to breathe, to remember how words worked."I know a place." His voice was easy now, warmer, like the dark had already been decided somewhere behind those eyes. "Small. Family-run. The kind of place that doesn't care who you are, which is exactly why I like it. They do this braised short rib that will ruin every other meal you've ever eaten for you, and a tiramisu the owner's mother makes from a recipe she won't even give to her own daughter."For half a second, I let myself picture it. Candlelight. His voice low across a small table. The city going quiet outside the window.Then I caught myself."I can't," I said.Something flickered across his face—not quite disappointment, more like mild curiosity, like I'd surprised him, and he wasn't used to being surprised.I looked at him—really looked. At the expensive suit and the perfect smile and the eyes that seemed to see straight thr
Daisy's POVHe was close now. Close enough that I could see the details I'd missed before. The tiny lines at the corners of his eyes. The faint shadow of stubble along his jaw. The deep burgundy of his tie, matched with a precision that felt almost deliberate, like everything about him had been considered twice.He stopped in front of me.Natalie made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a squeak. Her grip on my arm tightened like she was preparing to launch into orbit.Bradley didn't look at her. He looked only at me. His eyes swept over my face, and there was something in them—something that made my skin prickle with awareness."Give us the room, would you?" He said it casually, like he was asking for a glass of water. But there was steel beneath it. Authority.Natalie let go of me like I was on fire. “I—of course. Yes. Absolutely.” She reached out and gently took the crystal award from my hands. “I’ll hold this for you.” She was already backing away, throwing me a look that sai
Daisy's Pov He was staring at me. Really staring. His eyes moved over my face like he was memorizing every detail. Like I was something he'd been looking for and had finally found. "Thank you," I managed. "I—thank you." Still, he didn't let go. The photographers were going crazy. I could hear the clicks, the flashes. They were capturing every moment. Every second of this man holding my hand. I gently pulled my fingers free. He turned just enough to accept the crystal award from an assistant. He held the award out to me—a crystal trophy, elegant and simple, with my name engraved on it. He placed it in my hands. "Here," he said. "This is yours." I looked down at it. My name. Daisy Donovan. Winner. It didn't feel real. None of it felt real. Our fingers brushed as I took it. The contact was brief, yet it sent a soft current straight up my arm. Bradley’s mouth curved in that slow, warm smile. "Go ahead," he said softly. "Give your speech. They're waiting." Then he steppe
Daisy's POVFive years after leaving New York---The dress was perfect.I'd been staring at it for three hours, making tiny adjustments to the bodice, checking every seam, running my fingers over the silk until I could feel every thread individually. The model stood patiently on the podium, her expression somewhere between amused and sympathetic."Daisy." Her voice was soft, accented with Milanese Italian. "You need to breathe."I blinked. "What?""The dress is beautiful. It has been beautiful for the last hour." She smiled. "You are going to give yourself a heart attack."I laughed. It came out nervous, too high-pitched. "I'm sorry. This is my first show. I just—I want everything to be perfect.""Perfect is overrated." She stepped down from the podium and took my hands in hers. "Look at me."I looked. Her eyes were warm, kind. She'd been modelling for fifteen years, had walked runways in Paris and Milan and New York. She'd seen a thousand nervous designers. She knew exactly what I w
Cooper’s POV“He has the same eyes as yours.” I stared at the elderly nun. For a second, I thought I had heard her wrong.“My eyes?”She smiled faintly and glanced toward the ward. “Yes.”I looked away.The nurse who had been standing nearby gave me a grateful smile. “Thank you again. The surgery deposit has already gone through. You may have saved his life tonight.”I nodded once.“You’re welcome.”That should have been the end of it.I had paid for the surgery. I had done what anyone with the means to help should have done.There was no reason for me to stay.The nun moved toward the ward and disappeared behind the doors. A few seconds later, she returned carrying the baby.He was wrapped in a pale blue blanket, his tiny face peeking over the edge. Then he started crying. It wasn't loud. It was a thin, frightened sound. But it went straight through me. The nun gently rocked him.“Shh, sweetheart. It's all right.”The baby's little face scrunched, his tiny fists tightening against th







