ELLAS POV
I woke up in my bed, warm and tangled in my sheets, with a fuzzy memory of falling asleep on the couch. For a second, I couldn't remember how I'd gotten here—until I spotted the folded blanket at the foot of the bed and the empty tea mug on my nightstand.
Luke.
I smiled to myself. He must've carried or half-dragged me in here after I passed out mid-movie. Good thing, too—if I'd slept on the couch all night, I'd be waking up with my spine in pieces.
Stretching lazily, I rolled out of bed and padded to the window. The sunlight streaming in felt soft and golden, not too harsh, just… right. Something about this morning felt fresh, almost like the day itself had been reset.
I decided to dress like I felt it.
I pulled out the red dress I hadn't touched since I moved to New York—a sleek, curve-hugging thing that was just the right kind of bold. It clung in all the right places and didn't bother hiding a single curve.
Curling my hair took longer than I planned, but when I was done, it fell in soft waves around my shoulders, the kind that looked like effort but felt effortless. I gave myself a once-over in the mirror, smoothing the dress over my hips.
I looked good.
No, I looked great—and I felt even better.
I stepped out of my room, bag in hand, and spotted Luke at the kitchen counter, mixing something in a bowl. He looked up just long enough to flash a grin.
"Morning," he said. "You look nice."
I grabbed a mug, poured myself some coffee, and took a sip. "Thanks. And… for carrying me to bed last night."
He gave a small shrug. "You are welcome "
"Bye, Luke."
"Later."
Stepping out the city felt alive, like it was matching my energy—bright, buzzing, and strangely optimistic for a Wednesday morning.
By the time I stepped into the lobby at Vale Industries, I'd finished the cup and slipped into work mode. The building gleamed as always, sleek and intimidating.
I stepped onto the marble floor, heels soft against the polished surface, and headed straight for the elevator.
I pressed the button for the PR floor and waited, glancing at my phone.
The doors slid open with a soft chime, and I stepped in alone.
Or so I thought.
Just as the doors began to close, a hand shot out, stopping them. Mr. Darius Vale stepped in like he'd walked out of a magazine ad and straight into my morning. I hadn't expected to see him—definitely not here, especially after the last two day's, I'm guessing he is better now .
He wore a dark green suit, tailored to perfection, like it had been stitched directly onto him. He had no tie on just the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt undone, revealing the faintest line of his collarbone. His watch gleamed and shoes were spotless. And somehow, the air in the elevator shifted the second he entered, his presence pulling the air tighter .
My stomach flipped. All that energy I'd left the house with? Gone.
"Good morning," he said, voice smooth and controlled.
I nodded, trying not to look like a deer caught in a Prada spotlight. "Morning, sir."
He glanced at me, and then— "Ella, right?"
My eyes widened. "You… know my name?"
"Hard not to," he said quietly. "You were the girl at the hospital."
"Oh. Right. Yeah." I nodded again, feeling like my brain had temporarily disconnected. "Are you—are you doing alright, sir?"
He gave a small smile. "I'm fine. Thank you for asking."
The elevator stopped , and a small group of employees stepped in, nodding politely as they greeted him.
"Mr. Vale."
He acknowledged them with a curt nod and I moved back instinctively to make space.
My heel caught slightly on the floor, and I stumbled—just enough to throw myself off balance.
Before I could even gasp, his hand was at my waist warm through the thin fabric of my dress and for more than a second I could feel the firmness of his chest .
I froze.
He held me there for a second longer than necessary, then gently moved me to the side with the lightest pressure of his palm.
"Careful," he murmured, voice low enough only I could hear.
I was sure my cheeks were on fire. "I—I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"It's fine," he said smoothly, letting go.
But my skin still tingled where his hand had been. And suddenly, the elevator felt about ten degrees warmer.
The next floor arrived at my stop.
I practically launched myself out. "Bye—have a great day, sir," I stammered awkwardly over my shoulder.
He gave a slight nod, and the doors closed behind me.
I stood there for a second, heart racing, wondering if anyone else had felt that shift in the air or it was just me?
I exhaled slowly and made my way down the hall, trying to collect myself.
I headed toward my desk, trying to keep my expression neutral even though my insides still felt like jelly from that elevator ride and as I rounded the corner to my cubicle, a familiar voice called out.
"Ellaaa!"
I looked up just in time to see Maya rushing toward me with wide eyes.
"Girl, where have you been? You disappeared on me last night! Some people were saying you got fired. I nearly started a petition."
I laughed, hugging my bag tighter. "No, nothing dramatic. I wasn't feeling great, so I took the day off. I'm better now."
She raised a skeptical brow, hands on her hips. "Hmm. Still doesn't explain ghosting me mid-event. You owe me a dramatic story or at least a decent excuse."
I gave her a sheepish look. "I know, I'm sorry. It all happened so fast—there was a lot going on."
Maya studied me for a beat, then sighed, clearly choosing not to push. "Fine, I'll let you off the hook… for now. But only because I just realized I don't even have your number and we need to fix that."
I pulled out my phone, and we exchanged contacts.
"There, officially saved." She gave a nod of approval. "Now, enough about your vanishing act. Yesterday was a whirlwind. PR's deep in this new campaign pitch for the EverWear account. Theres a tight deadline, big expectations, and lots of coffee-fueled stress."
"Oof," I said, sliding into my seat. "Did I miss a full-blown crisis?"
"Only like… three mini ones," she said, leaning on my desk. "But Karen held it together, as always. We've got a team meeting later today to regroup. You'll catch up quick."
I nodded, opening my laptop and trying to push down the lingering tension in my chest.
Nothing like a campaign project to yank you back into reality.