~ RR
The note alone was enough to send me off the deep end, and with trembling hands, I opened the two boxes, and my heart fell out of my chest.
The first gift was two custom-made sketchbooks with authentic crocodile leather covers. Opening one, I ran my hand over the sheets and noticed they were Bristol vellum paper—the best for sketching but also insanely expensive. Both sketchbooks were leather-bound, with my name and my boutique’s logo embossed on the cover.
Ronan Emanuel Romano was sending me to tears, yet again.
Not because I was hurt, but because I was touched.
He sent something completelyme. Something he didn’t have to do, and my heart fluttered in my chest.
I carefully placed the sketchbooks back in the box, folded the fabric, and then my eyes locked onto the next gift—one that nearly sent me into cardiac shock.
At first glance, I thought I was hallucinating, but as I gently picked it up, I went into complete shock.
I felt like I needed to be sedated at the hospital.
Why was I holding a two-million-dollar bag in my hand?
Why was the Mouawad 1001 Nights Diamond Purse in mypossession?
Its weight, both physical and metaphorical, pressed against my palm, the diamonds and gemstones twinkling like a galaxy captured in silk. The purse was a masterpiece, designed not just to hold valuables but also as a significant sign of wealth.
As I turned it in my hands, intricate embroidered scenes danced in the light, each jewel telling a story of luxury. The clasp, a small treasure chest, gleamed with rare gems that seemed to pulse with life. Holding it felt like holding pure opulence.
Anger and a deep sense of appreciation surged, and I ran out, hailing the first cab I saw, making my way to Ronan’s building.
Ronan had some serious explaining to do.
Getting there felt like a miracle—I hadn’t passed out yet. The sleek, modern yet rustic building with the “RR” sign confirmed I was in the right place.
The receptionist downstairs directed me to his office on the thirteenth floor after I gave my name and warned her she’d be fired if he ever heard how she spoke to me.
Wait. Did I leave the front door open?
I quickly grabbed my phone to tell Inaya to meet me there because I had an emergency to handle.
When I finally reached the top floor, I stormed around until a woman with dirty blonde hair stopped me.
Great.
Another fucking barrier.
“You can’t be on the floor without an appointment,” she rudely stated.
My anger was about to spill over until I took a deep breath and remembered that she was doing her job, and my anger wasn’t toward her. Hell, my anger shouldn’t even be toward anyone. I should be happy to have gotten such a gift, but I was livid.
Two million euros?
“Good morning,” I greeted, trying my best to fix the bitch lookon my face. “I would like to speak to Dr. Romano, please?”
It didn’t seem she understood what I was saying, and who could blame her? I was pretty sure I threw in a few Italian words.
I took a deep breath and spoke the words again.
“He doesn’t take visitors,” she answered rudely.
“Tell him N—”
