Dylan held her gaze like he had heard the question she just asked in her mind.
His dark, enigmatic eyes didn't blink, and although it usually terrified her, Lacey was too curious to notice it.
Dylan waited for a moment longer. It would be stupid to make her the offer for the third time. If she wanted it or not, it didn't ultimately matter to him.
"If you don't want to," he said, his voice monotone but carrying that new, unyielding edge, "then it's fine."
He shrugged, a casual lift of his broad shoulders under the white shirt, and turned to leave, hands slipping back into his pockets as he headed toward the door, his strides relaxed and indifferent.
"Wait," Lacey called out, her voice sharper than she intended, stopping him mid-step.
Dylan paused.
Lacey bit her lip. She couldn't believe she was really considering it. There was no way he would do something like that.
For Dylan, he wasn't surprised. He hid his dark, scheming gaze as he stood still, his back to her.
Internally, a smug thought flickered: 'I knew it. Her love for expensive, branded clothes couldn't let her miss this opportunity. Regardless of how she hates me, this is a chance she can't just let go. It was obvious that she would bite.'
Dylan was smug now. It was a satisfying personality.
He always thought pride and every characteristic bordering on it was bad. But he had simply never had the courage to exert any of them.
Now he did. And it felt great.
Lacey shifted uncomfortably, her stained blouse clinging wetly to her skin, the coffee's bitter smell rising. "I'd... want to go, but I can't go outside like this. The stain's huge and people will stare."
Dylan turned back, his expression bland but with a hint of amusement in his shadowy eyes.
"It's fine. I have something."
Lacey's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Mhm?"
He walked ahead into his small office—guess it wasn't goodbye after all—and retrieved a simple blazer hanging there.
It was the one he kept in the office in case of cold days. Dylan was a neat freak, so he always made sure it was clean and iron.
The blazer was dust-free and crisp, as if waiting for this moment. A black elegant jacket with satin lapels.
He'd kept it for some long-forgotten company event, but now it would serve.
He approached her, the blazer draped over his arm, and held it out. "Put this on. It'll cover the stain."
Lacey's eyes widened, her cheeks flushing slightly as she took the jacket, but Dylan didn't stop there.
He stepped behind her, his presence looming—tall, jacked frame radiating quiet heat—as he helped her into it.
His fingers brushed her shoulders as he slid the sleeves up her arms, the fabric whispering against her skin. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck, his veiny hands steady and close, adjusting the collar with a gentle tug.
Her heart skipped, a traitorous warmth spreading through her, her dislike for him clashing with the unexpected intimacy.
'What the hell is this?' she thought, blushing deeper, her skin tingling where his knuckles grazed her.
The tuxedo hung a bit loose on her frame. It covered her, like she was a cute girlfriend in her boyfriend clothes. If not for that difficult frown on her face.
He stepped back, appraising her with a nod. "Are you ready?"
Lacey smoothed the lapels, her fingers trembling slightly. "Yes, I've finished the few files I had left."
She flattened a strand of orange hair that had gotten loose. While she continued to fight with the idea of this at the back of her mind.
'Is he really serious? This has to be a joke. Dylan, buying me clothes from Diamonds?'
"Let's go," Dylan said.
Lacey found herself instinctively following.
Other workers watched them with curious eyes as they headed to the elevator. Once they disappeared, they glanced at each other and shrugged.
Inside, the doors closed with a soft ding, sealing them in the confined space.
Dylan and Lacey had barely ever spoken to each other. It had been work and glares ever since they started working together, and because of this, wn awkward silence settled.
It was expected. This was the first time they were alone. Together. In an enclosed space.
Anything could happen.
Dylan could reach out and grab her right now.
He could have his way with her.
Lacey's face contorted at the thought of it. She always knew he was a creep.
She stood so rigidly, arms crossed over her borrowed blazer, her feminine legs crossed below as she stared at the floor numbers ticking down.
Internally, she warred with herself.
'I hate this guy. Always have. He's a weirdo, a nepo baby coasting on connections. Why am I agreeing to this? Walking with him like some date?'
Lacey was pretending to herself. She knew exactly why.
She sighed internally.
'I guess if it's for a Valentino blouse that I saw earlier, then... it's worth it. Maybe I should get some Dolce too. Gosh, I love Dolce so much.'
She glanced at Dylan.
'He better not be messing with me, or I'll make his life hell.'
Dylan leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, his red tie a bold accent against his white shirt, his hair slightly tousled over his forehead.
He glanced at her sidelong, sensing the tension, but said nothing, letting the silence stretch.
They got out on the ground floor, heading through the lobby and out of the company building.
As they passed the reception desk, Hana caught a glimpse of Dylan again, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.
'Him again? Now with Lacey? What's going on? First Miss Miller, now his secretary? Is he... up to something?'
She had never seen him walking with a person before, talk more a woman. But now, he was with two different women in one day?
What was going on here?
She leaned forward slightly, her fingers tapping the desk, but Dylan didn't notice, his focus ahead, arms in his pockets as they pushed through the glass doors into the bustling street.
They crossed the road together, dodging midday traffic, the sun glinting off skyscrapers and honking horns filling the air.
The large, beautiful boutique, Diamonds loomed on the opposite side.
It was luxurious even from the outside. The facade was sleek black marble with gold accents, massive floor-to-ceiling windows displaying mannequins in exquisite gowns and suits, spotlights highlighting diamonds embedded in the displays.
The entrance was framed by velvet ropes and a doorman in a tailored uniform, who nodded them through with a manicured smile.
Inside, the boutique was a haven of extravagance, the air scented with subtle perfume and polished leather.
Crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings, casting prismatic light over glass cases filled with glittering jewelry: diamonds, emeralds, sapphires winking under LED spots.
Racks of high-end clothing lined the walls: silk dresses in vibrant hues, tailored suits from brands like Armani and Gucci, shelves of handbags from Louis Vuitton and Hermes, each piece priced in the thousands.
The floor was plush carpet that muffled footsteps, and soft classical music played from hidden speakers, creating an intimate, exclusive atmosphere.
Sales associates in black attire glided around, offering champagne to browsing clients, the space feeling more like a private club than a store.
Lacey stepped in, her eyes widening despite her efforts to play it cool.
She looked around, her fingers twitching at her sides, trying to hold back her fanatic excitement.
But it was difficult for her. She was a kid in a comic book store.
Her gaze lingered on a shimmering Valentino gown, her lips parted slightly as she spotted a rack of blouses from Chanel, her cheeks flushed with barely contained glee when she saw Prada bags hanging like angels.
'Oh my god, those Prada bags... and those Louboutins…'
She bit her lip, forcing a neutral expression, but her steps quickened, her tits bouncing as she pretended to casually browse, her dislike for Dylan momentarily forgotten in the thrill of luxury.
Dylan watched her, hands in his pockets, a smirk hidden in his thoughts.
'Lacey Lawrence. Such a material girl. All it takes is the promise of shiny things, and she's hooked.'