Something in his voice made her believe him completely.
As she walked toward the Lumière executives, Vivienne felt different. The mask she'd worn for years still fit, but now there were cracks in it. Little spaces where the real her could breathe.
She posed for photos. Smiled at all the right moments. Answered questions about market strategy and brand synergy.
But part of her remained in that bathroom stall, pressed against the wall with Isaiah's mouth on hers, discovering what it felt like to be wanted for herself and not for what she represented.
The party continued around her, a careful dance of power and influence. Vivienne performed her role perfectly, never revealing the turmoil beneath her composed exterior. Yet with each handshake and air kiss, the memory of Isaiah's touch burned brighter.
After what felt like eternity, she finally escaped the last conversation and scanned the room for him.
He stood by the bar, watching her. Waiting, just as he promised.
