Chapter Three

Beatrice had always been perceptive, which made keeping secrets from her a near-impossible task. The morning after the gala, as I sat nursing a cup of coffee in her tiny but cozy apartment, I knew she was going to ask a lot of questions.

She leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, her expression a mix of curiosity and suspicion. “You’re quiet this morning, Stella. Care to explain why?”

I shrugged, keeping my gaze fixed on the swirling steam rising from my mug. “Nothing to explain. It was a long night.”

“A long night at a gala with Jack Ashford,” she pressed, her tone teasing but sharp.

I glanced at her, feigning nonchalance. “It was just an event. Nothing special.”

Beatrice snorted. “Please. You showed up looking like a goddess, with the most eligible billionaire in town on your arm, and you expect me to believe it was nothing special?”

“It was his charity event,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “He invited me as a guest, that’s all.”

“Just a guest?” She arched a perfectly sculpted brow.

“Yes, just a guest.”

Beatrice wasn’t buying it. She pushed off the counter and took a seat across from me, her eyes narrowing. “You’re hiding something, Stella. I can feel it. What’s going on between you and Jack?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly, perhaps too quickly.

Her lips pursed. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re terrible at this, you know that?” She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Listen, I’m your best friend, and I know you better than anyone. If something’s happening with Jack, you can tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” I insisted, trying to sound convincing.

Beatrice sat back, her eyes studying me like a hawk. “Fine. Let’s say I believe you—just for a second. Then let me be the voice of reason here.”

“Here we go,” I muttered, bracing myself.

“I’m serious, Stella.” Her tone shifted, becoming more earnest. “Jack Ashford is trouble. He’s rich, charming, and ridiculously good-looking, which means he’s used to getting what he wants. Guys like that don’t usually stick around for the long haul.”

“I’m not looking for the long haul,” I said before I could stop myself.

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I thought I’d said too much.

“So you are looking for something?” she probed.

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Uh-huh.” Beatrice gave me a knowing look. “Stella, come on. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” I repeated, hating how defensive I sounded.

She sighed, frustration flashing in her eyes. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Careful of what?”

“Of Jack,” she said firmly. “Guys like him can be intoxicating, but they can also be dangerous. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

I swallowed hard, her words hitting closer to home than she realized. “I’ll be fine, Bea.”

“You better be,” she said, her expression softening. “Because if he hurts you, I’ll kill him.”

I managed a weak smile. “Noted.”

She wasn’t wrong—Jack was intoxicating, and I was already in deeper than I’d intended.

I went back to my tiny apartment, trying to look through a book I wasn’t reading. My phone buzzed on the table, it took me a while to pick it up.

It was a message from Jack.

Jack: I hope I didn’t scare you off last night.

I stared at the screen, my heart doing an annoying little flip.

Me: You didn’t. Why would you think that?

His response was almost immediate.

Jack: Because I haven’t heard from you today.

I frowned, unsure how to interpret his words.

Me: I’ve been busy. Work, errands, you know how it is.

Jack: Fair enough. But I’d like to see you again.

My pulse quickened.

Me: Why?

There was a pause before his reply.

Jack: Because I can’t stop thinking about you.

I set the phone down, my thoughts spinning. Beatrice’s warning echoed in my mind, but my heart was louder, drowning out the voice of reason.

Two days later, I went to see Jack, I enjoyed every moment with him

He picked me up in a sleek black car, I just watched him as he smiled. His smile was irresistible, I swore I was in love and I was open to letting myself be in a relationship with Jack.

When we got to Jack’s house, it was nothing short of luxury. I scanned the sitting room, I had never seen anything like it before. I didn’t realize my mouth was open as a result of surprised I was.

“What would you like Stella? Wine or champagne?” Jacked asked

“Champagne is fine” I replied

Three minutes later, Jack returned with two glasses of champagne.

“Here you go”, he said.

As I sipped from the glass, I got comfortable and relaxed like I had been here before.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Jack said, studying me from across the table.

“Just tired,” I lied, avoiding his gaze.

“Beatrice had a lot to say about me, didn’t she?”

My head snapped up, surprise flickering across my face. “How did you—”

“I can tell,” he said, his tone calm but knowing. “What did she say?”

“Nothing you haven’t heard before, I’m sure,” I said, trying to deflect.

His lips curved into a small smile. “Let me guess. She warned you to stay away from me.”

“She’s protective,” I said, choosing my words carefully.

“She’s smart,” he replied, surprising me. “She’s right to be cautious.”

That wasn’t the response I’d expected. “What do you mean?”

I studied him, searching for any sign of insincerity, but his expression was unreadable.

“So why are you here?” I asked finally.

“Because you’re different,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “And I don’t want to mess this up.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Jack Ashford was full of contradictions—charming yet vulnerable, confident yet sincere.

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” I admitted.

“Don’t worry Stella, you will”, he said moving closer to me and my body stiffed

I felt goosebumps all over my body. I wanted him to get close, I wanted to have that kiss because the last one flashed through my mind.

There was silence between us, thick and heavy, as though it carried the weight of every word we hadn’t spoken. My heart pounded painfully in my chest, a steady thrum I was sure he could hear. I could have stepped back, said something, anything, but my feet wouldn’t move, and my lips stayed shut.

He was watching me, his gaze was intense. His eyes-beautiful- endless eyes- seemed to hold everything I’d felt for him but had been afraid to say out loud.

“What happened?” I asked. It seemed he wanted to stop.

“We don’t have to rush,” he said softly, breaking the silence. His voice, always reassuring and steady.

“ I know”, I whispered but “I want this. I want you”.