"You're really going, aren't you?"
I glanced up from my laptop, watching as Celeste folded her arms, leaning against my vanity with a knowing smirk.
My assistant—and best friend—had been watching me all evening, her curiosity barely masked behind feigned disinterest.
I sighed, crossing one leg over the other. "It's just dinner, Celeste. Not a wedding."
She scoffed. "Dinner with Lawrence Winston is never just dinner."
I arched a brow. "You know him?"
Celeste shook her head. "No one really knows him. But his name? His reputation? That's a different story."
I turned back to my laptop, scrolling through the information I had just pulled up.
Lawrence Winston.
CEO of Winston Enterprises—a multi-billion-dollar empire with stakes in real estate, tech, and a private investment sector so discreet, no one truly understood its reach.
Thirty-three years old. Mysterious. Calculated. Dangerous.
No unnecessary public appearances. No scandalous headlines. No history.
It was as if he had appeared one day, already at the top.
That alone unsettled me.
Celeste sat on the arm of my chair, peering at my screen. "He's got power, money, and mystery. The full package. But no one knows where he really came from. Just that he appeared in the business world a few years ago and started buying out entire industries like chess pieces."
I tapped my fingers against the desk, staring at his photo.
Strong jawline. Piercing eyes. A presence that commanded attention even through a still image.
"He's careful," I murmured. "Too careful."
"Exactly. Which means you should stay far, far away from him."
I smirked. "Where's the fun in that?"
Celeste groaned, standing up. "Fine. Play with fire. But at least be smart about it."
I shut my laptop, rising from my seat. "I always am."
But as I walked toward my closet, preparing for the night ahead, I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just another dinner.
This was the beginning of something far more dangerous.
And for the first time in a long time…
I wasn't sure if I was ready.
By the time the clock struck seven, my decision had already been made.
I was going.
Not because Lawrence Winston expected me to. Not because I had been summoned.
Because I wanted to.
And if I was going to step into his world, I would do it on my terms.
I stood in front of my walk-in closet, surrounded by an endless array of designer pieces—each one a statement, a declaration of power and prestige. But tonight wasn't about status.
Tonight was about control.
My control.
I reached for a black silk dress—sleek, understated, yet dangerously elegant. The fabric hugged my curves, the high slit teasing just enough to demand attention without begging for it. Diamond studs, a matching bracelet, and strappy heels completed the look.
Effortless. Unapologetic. Unforgettable.
By the time I slipped into my luxury sedan, the city lights stretched out before me, leading the way to whatever awaited me at this so-called dinner.
And as my driver pulled onto the main road, I glanced at my phone one last time.
Still no second message.
No confirmation. No last-minute check-in.
Because Lawrence Winston already knew.
I was coming.