NINA
Present Day
NEW YORK CITY
Friday evening arrived, a mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in my chest. Not only for the surprise date with Ronan, but for the gnawing stress over the boutique. Inaya and I had settled for a temporary space, a stopgap I wasn’t thrilled with, and the thought of asking Dillon or Ronan for help made my stomach twist. They were both carrying their own grief—Dillon with Azzaria, Ronan with her mother—and I didn’t want to add to it.
But then I thought of Ronan, of how he’d pulled me close instead of pushing me away, of the way his hands had anchoredme, steady and warm. That memory alone made my pulse spike. I realized I didn’t want to go back to what we had. I wanted something better, something stronger, and he was it.
My phone buzzed. He was outside.
I exhaled and checked my reflection: black halter top, low-rise maxi skirt, high ponytail with curled ends, Dior jewelry catching the last light of the evening, Tory Burch sandals, and my black Prada purse.
“I’ll be back soon,” I called to Inaya, lounging on the couch with an episode of Scandal.
“You look hot,” she smirked. “Have fun with your billionaire.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide the grin. “Whatever. Call me if anything.”
Stepping outside, my breath caught. He was leaning against his black Rolls-Royce, the city lights glinting off the sleek paint. Navy blue shirt clinging to every line of muscle, sleeves rolled, top buttons undone enough to make my stomach flutter. Hair perfect, eyes piercing me with a mix of heat and mischief that always made my heart stutter.
“Ronan,” I whispered, my voice caught somewhere between awe and relief.
“Mio Dio, you look… unreal, baby,” he said, eyes lighting up, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as I closed the distance between us.
“You don’t look too bad yourself,” I teased, leaning in slightly, letting my fingers brush the front of his sleeve. “Davvero bello.86”
“Just trying to keep up with you,” he murmured, stepping closer, his hand brushing mine as he handed me a bouquet of peonies. The scent was intoxicating, and so was he.
I inhaled deeply, my fingers curling around the stems. “Thank you… You always know exactly the right flowers.”
His eyes flicked to mine, dark and playful. “Only the best foryou.”
I smiled, a little flutter of heat running through me. “And here I thought you wanted me to think you’re perfect.”
He tilted his head, that signature smirk softening into something tender. “Maybe a little. But mostly… I just want you.”
A shiver ran through me at the words. Just like that, the tension between us crackled in the night air, heavy with longing, familiarity, and the promise of what we’d both been missing for five years.
“Ready for our adventure?”
“Adventure? Is that what we’re calling it now?” I arched an eyebrow as he opened the car door for me.
“Well, when you’re involved, it’s always an adventure,” he quipped.
I laughed, shaking my head. “Alright, Mr. Charming, let’s go.”
After a slow drive through traffic, we finally arrived. As we got out, I left my flowers on the front seat, grabbing my purse.
“Where are we?” I asked, scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.
He took my hand, his grip sending a rush through me. “You’ll see.”
Ronan led me to the front door, unlocking it with a key. As we stepped inside, the first thing I saw stopped me in my tracks: the name of the store spelled out in peony petals— like the ones from the Flower Garden.
Il Vento Elegante.
What the fuck? That was the name of my boutique.
