Chapter 55

AMARA’S POV***

I went home early, but instead of relaxing, my anxiety followed me into my apartment like a shadow.

I kept checking the time.

6pm.

6:30pm.

7pm.

Then my doorbell rang. My heart jumped like I was expecting trouble. I opened the door and found a delivery man holding a large package.

“Amara Harpers?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He handed it to me, collected my signature, and left.

I closed the door slowly and stared at the box like it might explode. I carried it into my living room and opened it.

Inside was a dress. Red. Strapless. Body con. Long.

It looked expensive enough to pay my rent for the next six months.

There was also a pair of Louis Vuitton red bottom heels, shiny, elegant, terrifying and a small black D&G purse with gold details.

I sat on my couch, holding the fabric between my fingers. My chest tightened. This wasn’t normal.

This wasn’t “boss taking PA to dinner.”

This was… something else.

And I didn’t know what to do with it.

By 7:45pm, I was dressed.

The dress hugged me like it had been made for my body. I had to fight with the zipper for five minutes, and by the time it finally closed, I was already sweating.

I did my makeup carefully, not too heavy. Just enough to look polished.

When I looked at myself in the mirror, I didn’t recognize the woman staring back.

She looked confident. Too confident. Like someone Dorian Wellington would actually choose to be seen with.

The thought made my stomach twist. At exactly 8pm, a knock came.

I opened the door and froze.

Dorian stood there in a black suit, no tie, his hair slightly messy in that way that made him look unfairly good.

His eyes landed on me. And for once…

He didn’t speak immediately. He just stared. It wasn’t the usual cold stare. This one was slow. Heavy.

Like he was seeing me properly. I felt heat rush to my cheeks.

“What?” I asked nervously.

His jaw flexed once.

“Let’s go.”

That was all. I grabbed my purse and stepped out.

My jaw dropped when I saw the car he came with. A sleek black Lamborghini sports car. I couldn't imagine I was going to be sitting in that car. 

We walked closer to the car, before I could approach the passenger car door, Dorian had already walked before me, holding the door open. 

“Thank you,” I said.

This was strange. What's going on with him? I couldn't help but think.

In the car, I couldn’t stop myself.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

“You keep saying that.”

His eyes flicked to me briefly.

“Because you keep asking.”

I frowned. “You’re impossible.”

He didn’t reply.

But I swear I saw the corner of his lips twitch.

When we arrived, the restaurant looked like something out of a rich person’s movie.

It was too quiet. Too expensive.

As we walked inside, I realized something was off.

The lights were dim. There were no customers. No music. No waiters.

My heart started beating fast.

“Dorian… is this place open?”

Dorian didn’t answer. He just took my hand. I stiffened instantly.

His fingers wrapped around mine firmly, like he had done it a hundred times before.

He led me deeper into the restaurant.

And then—

The lights came on.

Voices shouted.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!”

I froze.

My breath caught in my throat.

Davina ran toward me first, screaming like she had won the lottery.

“Oh my God! Happy birthday, baby!”

Others followed—friends, familiar faces, laughter, clapping.

My eyes darted around, confused, shocked, overwhelmed.

Then my gaze landed on Dorian.

He stood behind me, watching my reaction like he was waiting to see if he had done it right.

My lips parted.

“You…” my voice cracked. “You did this?”

He didn’t smile.

He just said quietly, “Of course.”

And something inside me broke. Not in a painful way.

In a way that made my eyes burn.

I lifted a hand to my mouth, trying to stop the tears.

Davina grabbed my shoulders.

“Don’t cry! Your makeup! Amara, don’t you dare cry!”

But it was too late.

A tear slipped down my cheek. And I didn’t know what excited me more…

The surprise. 

Or the fact that Dorian cared enough to plan it.