JAY'S POV
The moment I stepped into my cabin, I paused—not because I didn't like it, but because everything about it felt… prepared. Too prepared.
The space was already clean, organized, every surface untouched like it had been waiting for me to walk in and take ownership of it.
My eyes instinctively shifted toward the glass wall—and there it was. His cabin. Open. Visible. Too close for comfort.
"Yeah, no… that's not happening," I muttered under my breath, already reaching for the panel as the blinds slid down smoothly, cutting him out of my space completely.
"I don't need his face as my daily background aesthetic, thank you very much."
I exhaled softly after that, like I'd just reclaimed something small but important, then set my bag down and got to work—files out, sketches spread, my design board going up piece by piece like I was building something that actually mattered this time.
By the time I walked into the meeting room, I could feel it—the shift. Ten people. All experienced. All already watching me like they were trying to figure out if I belonged here and for a second… just a second… something uneasy twisted in my chest.
They've done this before. You haven't. But I didn't let it show. I straightened, stepped forward, and met their eyes.
"Good morning, everyone" I said evenly, letting my voice settle into something steady. "I'm Jasper Jean Mariano you may call me Jay—and I won't waste your time pretending we have any to spare."
A few brows lifted at that..
"We have exactly one month,we need to create fifty pieces by december 13 ready for the soft launch, and I'm not interested in excuses—I'm interested in results."
All of them looked around doubt, annoyance in one-two,so I did what I had to,"Here,"
I pulled up the projector with my previous design and runways,"these are my designs presented in many fashion houses and on runways,so if you all are wondering if I'm capable of this job...then please you may have a look at this..any questions can be entertained and if there are none let's move forward"
I looked around with the confusion and doubt wiping off of their faces....
I turned to the board, picking up a marker. "The theme is : Winter Warmth. But not boring, not predictable, not something people forget the second they see it." I started sketching lightly as I spoke, my thoughts flowing clearer with every word. "I want softness—comfort—but elevated. Something that feels like safety… but looks like it belongs on a runway."
One of them leaned forward slightly. "So… emotional design?"
I glanced back at her, nodding once. "Exactly. Texture will carry it—cashmere, wool, layered fabrics—but refined, not bulky. And colors—winter palette, but alive. Whites, blues, silvers… maybe soft blush tones if they fit."
Another voice joined in. "And silhouettes?"
"Fluid," I answered instantly. "Nothing stiff. I want movement. I want something that looks effortless but isn't."
There was a pause—and then something shifted. Not doubt. Not hesitation. Alignment.
"Alright," someone muttered. "I like this."
"Good," I replied calmly. "Because by evening, I want drafts. Your vision. Your interpretation. I'll refine—but I need to see where your instincts go first."
And just like that—they moved. No questions. No resistance. Just work.
When I got back to my cabin, I finally let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "Okay…" I whispered to myself, dropping into my chair. "That didn't go terribly."
I glanced at my sketches again, then picked up my pencil and started working, letting the lines come naturally this time, letting myself fall into it completely.
Time slipped. Quietly.
By the time I leaned back, stretching slightly, my shoulders ached just enough to remind me I'd been at it for hours. "Lunch…" I murmured, rolling my neck slightly—right as a knock came.
"Come in."
The door opened—and I froze for half a second before breaking into a grin. "JAMES?!"
He barely had time to react before I was already hugging him. "What are you doing here?! Don't tell me you just showed up randomly—I refuse to believe that."
He laughed, hugging me back just as tightly. "Relax, Miss Mariano, I was summoned," he said dramatically, pulling back with a grin. "Apparently your father thinks I have 'impeccable taste in fashion.' His words, not mine."
I blinked. "He did not actually say that?"
"He did word for word," he nodded seriously—then smirked. "I'm serious Jay Jay !" he insists, dropping into the chair across from me. "Mr. Mariano asked if I wanted to join the collaboration, and honestly? I'd rather die than say no to working with you."
For a second, I just stared at him. Then—
"SO YOU'RE STAYING?!"
"Unfortunately for you—yes."
I laughed, shaking my head. "Oh my God, this just got so much better."
"Yeah, yeah," he waved it off lightly. "Come on, let's go eat before you forget what food is and start living off caffeine and attitude."
"Excuse you, I already did that," I shot back, grabbing my phone.
We stepped out together—and the moment we did, the door opposite opened.
I didn't need to look.
But I did anyway.
Keifer.
Grace just behind him.
And the second his eyes landed on us—on him—something in his expression changed. Subtle. But there.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice controlled—but sharp enough to cut through the moment.
James shifted slightly beside me, about to answer—but I didn't let him.
"That's none of your business," I cut in, my tone flat, already irritated. "Maybe focus on things that actually concern you?"
His gaze snapped to mine.
Cold.
But I didn't look away.
Not this time.
I reached out, grabbing James's hand lightly. "Come on," I muttered, already pulling him along.
And I didn't give Keifer the satisfaction of looking back.
—
KEIFER'S POV
I shouldn't have been thinking about her.
But I was.
All morning.
Every time I tried to focus, my mind dragged me back to that moment in my cabin—her standing there like she belonged, like she wasn't trespassing, like she had every right to be in my space. The way she looked at that picture. The way she looked at me.
And the way she smelled—Vanilla. Lavender.
It lingered.
Even now.
I found myself glancing up more than I should—toward the curtains. Closed. Knowing she was right there. Just a few feet away. Working. Existing. Distracting me without even trying.
"Sir?" Grace's voice pulled me back. "We need to leave,Mr.Russo will be meeting you in about 30 minutes.."
I nodded, grabbing my coat as we stepped out and then I saw them.
Her.
With him.
JAMESON FRICKING HAWTHORNE!
Laughing. Standing too close. Comfortable.
I stopped before I could stop myself.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended, my eyes locked on him.
James.
Of course it would be him.
Before he could respond—She stepped in.
"That's none of your business."
The words landed harder than they should have.
My gaze shifted to her.
And then—She took his hand.Just like that.Like it meant nothing.Like I meant nothing.
And something inside me—Didn't explode.Didn't break.
It just… went cold.
Completely.
I watched them walk away, my jaw tightening slightly, my hands clenching just enough to feel it.
Then I turned sharply, already moving.
"Let's go," I said flatly.
But the focus I usually had?
Gone.
Because for the first time in a long time—I wasn't in control of what I was feeling and I hated that more than anything.
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Hey Readers....
I'm sorry for the late upload....honestly I got very busy because my entrance exams are scheduled for almost next 3 months straight and I have been preparing for them hence being late and only being able to upload one chapter...This chapter is what I wrote in a hurry so I will gladly take any callouts if you feel like it....I'm sorry but I'll try my best to post on both my books but if I'm unable to do so please understand... I love you all so much you all have been with me in thick and thin and it means alot💗💗💗