As I sat across from Miss Rachel, my eyes wandered to the steam rising from my cup of coffee. The warmth of the café was comforting, but there was a strange, restless energy inside me that I couldn't shake. Maybe it was the thought of finally meeting Miss Rachel's godson, David. I had heard so much about him, and it wasn't like me to feel nervous, but today, something was different. I tried to brush it off, listening as Miss Rachel told me more about him, though her words seemed to blur into the background.
I absentmindedly took another sip of coffee, my gaze drifting toward the large front windows of the café. That's when I heard it—the low, throaty purr of an engine. Not just any engine, though. This sound was refined, powerful, like it was coming from something more than just a regular car. I glanced up, expecting to see some high-end vehicle, but what I saw instead nearly made me choke on my coffee.
It wasn't just any car. It was the Bugatti La Voiture Noire.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat. There it was, gliding up to the curb like a sleek, black panther, its glossy surface gleaming under the sunlight. My heart skipped a beat as I realized what I was looking at. I had read about this car, seen it in articles, maybe in some car enthusiast's Instagram post. But seeing it up close? In real life? That was a different story altogether.
The Bugatti La Voiture Noire was a legend, a masterpiece on four wheels. A one-of-a-kind machine that cost more than I could ever dream of making in a lifetime. And now, it was parked right in front of me. I blinked, half-expecting it to disappear, like maybe I was imagining the whole thing, but it stayed there, radiating power and luxury.
I didn't even notice Miss Rachel watching me with an amused smile until she spoke. "David likes to make an entrance," she said, her voice filled with warmth and pride.
David. Her godson drives that? My mind couldn't process it. I had been expecting someone successful, someone charming, sure. But this? This was beyond anything I could have imagined. Who was this guy?
Before I could gather my thoughts, the door of the Bugatti swung open with a quiet click, and then I saw him.
I swear, time stood still for a second.
The first thing I noticed was his hair—blonde, short, and perfectly styled, like it had been kissed by the sun. It caught the light just right, turning almost golden as he moved. He stood tall and confident, his posture relaxed yet undeniably powerful, as if he didn't need to try to command attention—it just came to him naturally.
And then his eyes. God, his eyes.
They were the most stunning shade of green I had ever seen. Not the dull green that sometimes looks brown in the wrong light. No, these were sharp, bright, and intense, like emeralds glowing beneath his thick eyebrows. There was a depth to them, something that made it impossible to look away. I was mesmerized, like his gaze had latched onto mine and wouldn't let go. It wasn't just the color, though—it was the way he looked at me, as if he could see right through me, as if he knew something I didn't.
For a second, I forgot how to breathe.
His face was perfectly symmetrical, his features sharp and defined, from the strong jawline to the straight nose that fit perfectly between his high cheekbones. His skin was fair but not pale, a light golden tone that gave him a healthy glow, like he spent just the right amount of time in the sun. He had the kind of face you'd expect to see on a billboard or in some high-end magazine spread, yet here he was, stepping out of a car that cost more than most people's houses.
He was lean, but there was a quiet strength to him. He moved with an effortless grace that made it clear he was comfortable in his body, confident in the way he carried himself. His suit—black and perfectly tailored—hugged his frame just enough to show off his athletic build without being flashy. Everything about him was subtle, yet striking. He didn't need to boast or wear anything extravagant. His presence alone was enough to turn heads.
I felt my heart race, and for a moment, I couldn't think straight. The car had amazed me, sure, but *he*? He had completely stolen my breath.
I had seen attractive men before. Sure, we all have. But this was something else. He wasn't just attractive. He was magnetic. Everything about him, from the way he moved to the way his eyes scanned the room, seemed larger than life. His features were sharp, his jawline strong, and his expression calm, like he was completely in control of everything around him. His suit was black, fitted perfectly to his athletic frame, and even though there was nothing overly flashy about it, he wore it like it belonged to him—like it was a part of who he was.
I realized I hadn't breathed in what felt like an eternity, and I forced myself to take a quiet, steadying breath. But even then, I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. The car, the café, even Miss Rachel—they all faded into the background. All I could focus on was David.
Miss Rachel stood, her face lighting up as she walked toward him. "David, darling!" she called out, her voice full of affection.
I watched as David's eyes softened when he saw her. His serious expression melted away into something warmer, more familiar. He bent down slightly to hug her, and there was such ease in the way he did it. He was so tall, so imposing, yet the way he embraced Miss Rachel was so gentle.
"Godmother," he said, his voice low and smooth, like velvet. It wasn't just deep—it had this rich, almost musical quality to it. I felt it settle into my bones, making me shiver in a way that surprised me.
My heart thudded in my chest, and I felt my hands grow clammy. I had never been this nervous around anyone before, and I couldn't understand why. I barely knew this man, and yet, here I was, feeling like a bundle of nerves just watching him interact with his godmother.
Miss Rachel looked so proud, standing next to him, and it was hard to blame her. David wasn't just handsome. He was captivating, in a way that made everyone else in the room fade into the background.
And then, his attention shifted to me.
His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought I might faint. his eyes moving over me with a quiet curiosity, like he was sizing me up, trying to figure me out.I could feel his gaze like a weight, heavy but not oppressive, just…intense. I felt exposed, like he was seeing more than just the surface of me, and I wasn't sure if I liked that or if it terrified me. and suddenly, I became hyper-aware of everything—my hair, the way I was sitting, the fact that I hadn't said a single word yet.
"This must be Emily," he said, his voice warm, though there was an undertone of something else I couldn't quite place. It was almost like a challenge, like he was sizing me up.
I blinked, trying to snap myself out of the trance I had fallen into. "Yes," I managed to say, standing up a bit too quickly, my legs shaky beneath me. "I'm Emily." My voice sounded small, and I cursed myself for not being more composed.
David extended his hand toward me, and for a second, I hesitated. I wasn't sure I was ready to touch him, not when I was still so overwhelmed by everything about him. But I couldn't just stand there like an idiot. I reached out and took his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine. His grip was firm but not crushing, just the right amount of strength. And for a brief moment, I felt a spark—something electric—pass between us. and for the briefest of moments, I forgot how to breathe again.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, and there was something about the way he said it—like those words meant more than they usually did.
"The pleasure is mine," I replied, though the words barely made it out of my mouth. My mind was still racing, trying to process everything that had just happened. Who *was* this man? And why was I so utterly mesmerized by him?Everything about this man was throwing me off balance, and I didn't know how to handle it.
David's attention shifted back to Miss Rachel as they began talking again, and I took the chance to sit back down, hoping to steady myself. But even as the conversation flowed between them, I couldn't stop thinking about him—about his green eyes, his strong jawline, the way his voice had wrapped around me like a soft blanket.
David's presence lingered in the air, and for the first time in a long while, I felt completely unprepared for what might come next.