You're Beautiful - Kenny G; People You Know - Selena Gomez
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Chapter Sixteen
Diane Dalton sank into the oversized leather chair in her design studio, exhausted but restless. The day had been a blur of client calls, supplier negotiations, and sketch approvals, yet her mind refused to quiet down. Every time she thought she could focus, her thoughts wandered back to Jeffrey, his sharp eyes, the way he had measured her over lunch, the subtle challenge in his smirk.
She ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. Focus, Diane. Company first. Everything else… later. Yet even as she tried to center herself, the empire felt heavier than usual. Not because of business, but because every decision she made now seemed entangled with personal stakes she wasn't ready to admit.
Chelsea bounced into the studio, camera in hand, grinning like she'd won the lottery. "You look like you've just survived a battle, Diane. Spill. Lunch with the bad-boy CEO, was it?"
Diane groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I survived, barely. And yes, it was… him. Let's leave it at that."
Chelsea perched on the edge of the drafting table, elbows resting on her knees. "Come on. Don't be coy. He's Jeffrey Black. The man is a storm wrapped in a suit. Admit it, you're fascinated."
Diane's lips twitched. "Fascinated is one word. Infuriated, irritated, challenged… those are others."
Chelsea raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Ah, the reluctant intrigue. Classic Diane. But here's the fun part, Jason's been sending me ridiculous texts about you, him, and the inevitable chaos brewing between your worlds."
Diane frowned, reaching for a sketchpad to focus. "Jason? What are you talking about?"
Chelsea waved her phone teasingly. "He's already playing the role of wingman-slash-mischief-maker. And trust me, he's loving every second of it."
Diane sighed, rubbing her temples. "I don't have time for… antics."
"Sure you do," Chelsea said softly, standing to place a hand on Diane's shoulder. "Time finds you, Diane. And right now, it's found you in the shape of Jeffrey Black. Just… don't underestimate the chaos, and maybe don't pretend it isn't entertaining."
Diane muttered something noncommittal, but inside, she knew Chelsea was right. The pull was undeniable, a magnetic tension that made her pulse spike whenever she remembered his gaze.
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Meanwhile, across town, Jeffrey Black was enduring his own version of chaos.
His grandfather's office reeked of old leather, authority, and subtle threats. "You must consider the legacy, Jeffrey," his grandfather intoned, voice thick with expectation. "A union is not just personal. It is business, family, continuity."
Jeffrey leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "I understand, Grandfather. But I also understand that forcing myself into a marriage for convenience achieves nothing. Nothing good, at least."
His father's brow furrowed. "Convenience? This is not a casual game. You must balance duty with desire, or there will be consequences."
Jason, ever the observer, smirked from the doorway. "Or maybe he just needs to find someone worth the trouble. Someone who challenges him without making him want to scream."
His brother's words made Jeffrey pause. Challenges. That was exactly what Diane brought into his life, intense, uncompromising, and utterly unlike anyone he'd ever met.
Jason continued, leaning against the doorframe. "Seriously, you're stressing over a woman who doesn't even know the rules. That's new for you."
Jeffrey allowed himself a small, rare smile. "She does know the rules. She just chooses not to play by yours. And that… unsettles me more than I like to admit."
Jason chuckled. "Welcome to the club, brother. Enjoy it."
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Back in her studio, Diane's focus shifted to the designs spread across the table. New fabrics, bold cuts, daring silhouettes, her fashion choices demanded perfection, yet her thoughts constantly drifted to Jeffrey. How would he react to the new line? Would he see the calculated power in her choices, or just the woman behind the designs?
Chelsea nudged her lightly. "You're zoning. Did he text you?"
Diane shook her head. "Not today. And I don't expect him to."
Chelsea leaned back, arms crossed. "That's the thing with men like him. He makes his presence felt even in absence. Trust me, he's thinking about you too."
Diane smirked reluctantly. "Or plotting how to annoy me further."
Chelsea laughed. "Could be both. But that's what makes him… interesting. And dangerous."
As Diane worked, sketches and notes scattered around her, she realized that for the first time in years, her company felt both secure and precarious. Secure because she controlled her brand, her decisions, her life precarious because one man had infiltrated her carefully constructed world, quietly shifting the equilibrium.
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Hours later, Jeffrey's phone buzzed with a message from Diane: Finished the day. Designs look promising. Keep your comments minimal until you see the final pieces.
He smirked, replying: I can't promise that. But I can promise curiosity.
Across the city, Diane read his reply, a small, involuntary smile tugging at her lips. She shook her head. "This is ridiculous," she whispered to herself. Yet as she returned to her sketches, she realized ridiculous or not, the tension, the challenge, and the undeniable pull were exactly what made her feel alive.
And both of them, two empires, two legacies, two stubborn wills, had no idea just how much they were about to meet in the middle for something new.
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