next morning, Lydia woke to the sound of her phone buzzing. Her head ached slightly — not from sleep, but from the whirlwind thoughts that had kept her awake. Jaden's face lingered in her mind like a haunting melody she couldn't shake off.
A message.
From him.
> "Dinner. 7 p.m. at The Meridian. Don't be late."
No greeting, no emoji, no explanation — just pure command. Lydia stared at the text for a long moment. Something about his confidence irritated her, yet drew her in like gravity.
She sighed, tossed her pillow aside, and muttered,
> "Who does he think he is?"
Still, she found herself scrolling through her wardrobe hours later, trying to decide what to wear.
By 7 p.m., she arrived at The Meridian, a glass-walled rooftop restaurant overlooking the glowing cityscape. The air was warm and scented with roses and luxury. She spotted him immediately — Jaden, dressed in an all-black suit, sitting with that same calm, unreadable expression.
He stood as she approached, his eyes briefly flicking down her outfit — a subtle nod of approval before he gestured to the seat opposite him.
> "You came," he said simply.
> "You ordered me to," Lydia replied, crossing her arms.
He smirked slightly, the corner of his lips barely lifting.
> "And yet, you didn't refuse."
Their eyes met — and for a moment, silence said more than words. The city lights reflected in his cold, grey eyes, but beneath that steel, Lydia sensed something fragile… something hidden.
> "Why did you invite me here?" she asked finally.
He leaned back, fingers brushing against his glass of wine.
> "Because I don't repeat mistakes," he said.
"And last time, I let you walk away too easily."
Lydia blinked, caught off guard.
There it was again — that dangerous pull, the mixture of mystery and warmth he kept locked behind his cold exterior.
She looked away, trying to steady her voice.
> "You don't even know me, Jaden."
He smiled faintly
.
> "That's exactly why I can't stop thinking about you."