Ethan D'Angelo had returned to his throne. Sitting in his glass-paneled office at Ethan's, his gaze was sharp, his commands curt, and his aura a perfect blend of power and intimidation. The heartbreak, vulnerability, and chaos of the past weeks were locked away, replaced by the cold efficiency that had built his empire.
"Mr. D'Angelo, the meeting with the R&D team is in ten minutes," his assistant, Clara, informed him nervously.
Ethan nodded, not looking up from the tablet in his hand. "Tell them I'll be there in fifteen. Make sure the projections are accurate this time."
"Yes, sir," Clara replied, scurrying away.
He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. Despite the meticulous façade, Sophie was still a persistent shadow in his mind.
---
Meanwhile, Sophie...
"Let's go shopping," Mia announced, barging into Sophie's apartment.
Sophie groaned from the couch. "Mia, I'm trying to binge-watch this crime drama. Can't we shop online like normal people?"
"Nope. You need fresh air and new shoes," Mia said, yanking the blanket off Sophie. "Up! Now!"
Thirty minutes later, Sophie found herself being dragged through a bustling mall, Mia chatting nonstop about a sale on handbags. Sophie, however, was more interested in the food court.
"You're like a child," Mia teased when Sophie veered toward the scent of cinnamon rolls.
"And you're like a drill sergeant," Sophie retorted, grabbing a sugary pastry.
---
Ethan's Mission...
Ethan strode through the same mall, his expression grim. He was on a mission to find a specific high-tech gadget for a product launch. His assistant had failed to locate it online, forcing him to venture into public—a place he despised.
"Why do I pay people if I have to do everything myself?" he muttered under his breath, dodging a group of teenagers taking selfies.
He scanned the electronic store, his tall frame towering over the aisles. Just as he reached for a sleek, black device, his phone buzzed.
"Not now," he growled, shoving it back into his pocket.
---
The Collision...
Sophie, cinnamon roll in hand, wasn't paying attention as she walked out of the bakery. Ethan, engrossed in his search, turned sharply toward another aisle.
And then it happened.
BAM!
Sophie stumbled back, the cinnamon roll flying from her hand. Ethan, ever composed, caught her by the arm to steady her but looked down to find frosting smudged on his expensive navy blazer.
"Oh, my God!" Sophie exclaimed, wide-eyed.
Ethan's gaze snapped to her face, and for a moment, the air between them froze.
"Sophie," he said, his voice even but laced with tension.
She blinked, trying to process the situation. "Ethan?"
The awkwardness hit like a tidal wave. Sophie's eyes darted to his blazer, then back to his face. "I—uh—sorry about your... jacket."
Ethan's lips pressed into a thin line. "It's fine."
"Are you... shopping?" she asked, as if seeing Ethan D'Angelo in a mall was a once-in-a-lifetime event.
"Yes. Is that a problem?" he replied coolly, brushing a crumb off his sleeve.
"No! I mean... no," she stammered, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.
There was an uncomfortable silence. People moved around them, oblivious to the tension crackling in the air.
"Well, I should go," Sophie said finally, stepping aside.
"Yeah. Me too," Ethan replied, his tone detached.
And just like that, they walked past each other, their shoulders brushing slightly, both pretending the encounter hadn't left them reeling.
---
Post-Collision Reflections...
Sophie practically ran back to Mia, who was trying on sunglasses in a nearby store.
"You won't believe who I just bumped into," Sophie said, out of breath.
Mia raised an eyebrow. "If it's Liam again, I swear—"
"It's Ethan," Sophie interrupted, flopping onto a bench.
Mia gasped. "What? Did you talk?"
"Barely. It was weird and awkward and—ugh—I got frosting on his jacket," Sophie groaned, covering her face.
Mia burst out laughing. "Classic Sophie."
---
Ethan, on the other hand, had returned to his car, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
"Of all the people in this city," he muttered to himself.
He closed his eyes, replaying the brief encounter. She'd looked different—more vibrant, more alive—and it only made him feel worse about how things had ended.
His phone buzzed with a text from Zoe: "Mom says to bring your date for Sunday dinner. LOL."
Ethan rolled his eyes, tossing the phone aside. He didn't need this right now—not with Sophie's cinnamon-scented presence still lingering in his mind.
---
Closing Scene...
That night, Sophie lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Mia was scrolling through her phone nearby.
"Do you think I'll ever stop running into him?" Sophie asked.
"Not if the universe has anything to say about it," Mia replied without looking up.
Ethan, miles away in his penthouse, stared out at the city skyline, a glass of whiskey in hand.
He whispered to the empty room, "Why does it always have to be you?"