Nina’s eyes were misty with gratitude as she turned to me.“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
I stepped closer, my fingers brushing against her arm as I leaned in. “There’s more where that came from.”
Her gaze met mine, and the warmth between us was undeniable. I kissed her, and it was as if the world faded away, leaving only the two of us, wrapped in desire and closeness.
“More?” she asked, leading me back to the bed.
“Oh, yeah,” I whispered against her lips.
“Show me,” she whispered back, and I didn’t even think twice.
Chapter Fifty-three
NINA
Present Day
ITALY
Ronan had been gone for five grueling days, and it felt like my world was crumbling.Emotional dependency is one hell of a thing.Every moment without him made me feel like a part of me was missing. I knew it was irrational, but the ache in my chest wouldn’t go away.
It was like déjà vu, a haunting reminder of our early days. Back then, when he was in med school in New York, and I was in Italy, our relationship had been nothing but long-distance calls and longing gazes through screens. The distance had felt like a cruel joke. But now, with the world between us again, it felt even moreunbearable.
Ugh.
I blinked away the tears that threatened to fall—again.
As the weight of my emotions overwhelmed me, my phone buzzed, snapping me back to reality. The director from Louis Vuitton. I answered, my hands shaking slightly as I pressed it to my ear.
“Ms. Moretti!” The voice on the other end was the talent director, smooth and professional. “This is it. The sketches have been approved. It’s a masterpiece, and we’re hoping to start designs as soon as possible.”
A gasp escaped my lips before I could stop it. The words hit me like a wave, crashing into my chest with all the intensity of the passion I poured into my work. It was real. After literal months of correspondence, they had given me the green light. My designs had made it. I had done something no one could ever take away from me. I closed my eyes, allowing the joy to flood through me.
A masterpiece.The talent director’s words reverberated in my mind, and I swore I could feel my heart scream with elation.The recognition. The dream.
I sank back into the office chair, the phone still clutched in my hand as I tried to catch my breath. All the exhaustion of the past few weeks melted away. To celebrate, I tore open the box of milk chocolates Ronan had surprised me with earlier this morning.
God, I loved him. Even from a distance, he always seemed to know exactly what I needed.
I leaned back, closing my eyes as I let the chocolate soothe me, but my thoughts refused to slow. I was booked for the rest of the year—no free days in sight. We were expanding the team, bringing on new talent to help with the influx of projects and collaborations that had come through the door. Celebrities wanted my designs for their wedding dresses. I was evendesigning theentirebridal party for the Livingston wedding. And I knew—deep down—Ronan had played a huge part in that. His connections. His influence. My heart fluttered at the thought.
Twenty-two candidates had been shortlisted for a project, and I’d already vetted them via Zoom. But the second round? That was all Ronan’s doing. He’d handled it like the mastermind he was, and when I returned to New York, we’d be going through a thirty-day workshop with everyone, finalizing the team that would carry the brand forward.
I couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at my lips. I was closing the Italian boutique for about two months to focus on the New York City operations. A tough decision, but it had to be done. The future of everything I had worked for was in New York now. There was no turning back.
Between interviews, calls, and trying to prepare for the official launch of the NYC boutique—no, scratch that—there was no “trying” anymore. I was doing it. I had been interviewed onGood Morning America, which still felt surreal, andCorriere della Sera? That was the one that had made me scream. Seeing my name on that publication—talking about fashion, my rise—it was everything I had ever dreamed of.
But as the high from those victories began to settle, I was interrupted by Inaya’s voice.
“Nina?”
“Yeah?”
“There’s a call coming through for you.”
I groaned. “Who is it?”
“The director of Modanisa.”
