Chapter 10 #2
"Excuse me?" I couldn't believe my ears.
"The ruby," he said, pointing at the design. "Why only 5 carats? I want 8."
He came here just to mess with me!
"Five carats is the optimal ratio based on precise calculations," I said, suppressing my irritation. "The pendant dimensions are 3.2 by 2.8 centimeters. If the main stone exceeds 5 carats..."
"I don't care." Kayden fully embraced his role as a difficult client, looking even more infuriating. "I want 8 carats."
I clenched my jaw.
He's deliberately nitpicking. He's trying to provoke you.
"Very well, Mr. Blackwood." I made a note, my voice terrifyingly calm. "But I must warn you, this will compromise the design's aesthetic balance."
"I'm paying. I decide." He said carelessly. "Is that a problem?"
Damn rich people.
"None whatsoever." My pen pressed hard across the paper, nearly puncturing it. "I'll revise according to your specifications."
"Good." Kayden nodded with satisfaction. "Next?"
I flipped to the 'Breaking Free' bracelet design.
"The 'Breaking Free' bracelet uses platinum, inspired by a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. The main body features flowing, organic lines..."
"Why platinum?"
Great. Here we go again. My temples started throbbing.
"Because platinum's cool tone perfectly captures the theme's sense of stark transformation and the moment of metamorphosis..."
"I want rose gold."
"Rose gold will make the tone too warm," I said, struggling to maintain professionalism and not shout. "It'll destroy the design's entire artistic concept."
"I want rose gold." Kayden leaned back, amusement flickering in those silver eyes.
"No problem." My voice took on an edge. "Rose gold it is."
The next half hour was pure torture. Kayden nitpicked nearly every design detail in completely unreasonable ways.
The setting was too traditional—he wanted innovation. The chain too delicate—make it bolder. The engraving too minimalist—make it elaborate.
I patiently explained each point, offered professional alternatives, and cited supporting data. But he rejected everything, as if he didn't care about the design quality at all—he just wanted to see me lose control, even if it meant watching me curse him out.
But I wouldn't give him that satisfaction.
"Also," Kayden's long fingers tapped the 'New Life' earring design. "This look—"
"Represents the pulse of new life and the continuation of hope," I cut in before he could finish, then flipped to another page. "I know you're going to say it's too minimalist, not ornate enough, so I've prepared an alternative."
I pushed the second version in front of him.
I'd quickly sketched this during the gaps between his harassment, for exactly this moment.
"This version adds pavé diamond accents to the original base using the micro-setting technique, totaling 0.8 carats. More luxurious, and better suited to your aesthetic expectations for the 'New Life' theme."
Kayden froze. He stared at the design for several seconds, then slowly raised his eyes to meet mine.
Was that... defeat?
"You already knew?"
"I'm a professional designer, Mr. Blackwood." A surge of satisfaction filled my chest. "Anticipating client needs is part of my job."
The café fell quiet for a few seconds. Kayden's gaze remained fixed on me, unmoving. Just as I was about to break the silence—
"Impressive," he said softly, with genuine admiration. "Seven years have changed you so much."
"I don't know what you mean." My heart skipped, but it didn't matter. I started gathering my documents. "If you have no other questions, then I—"
"Layla."
I froze.
"Miss Ross," I corrected him. "Please."
Kayden fell silent for a moment, but this time, he didn't correct that "mistake."
"One last question." He suddenly leaned forward, hands braced on the table. The distance between us shrank to less than two feet. I could see the gold flecks in his eyes, smell the faint cedar scent on him.
And the Alpha pheromones. Rich, commanding, impossible to resist. My heartbeat started spiraling out of control.
Damn it.
I tried to pull back, create distance. But the chair was right behind me. Nowhere to retreat.
"What if I told you..." Kayden fixed those burning silver eyes on me, voice dropping to barely more than a whisper. "That I've dreamed of you? Every single night for seven years."
Mate! Mate!
Diana howled with uncontrolled excitement. Kayden was too close. She caught the concentrated Alpha scent, nostrils flaring, fangs bared.
My mind went blank. All those suppressed, buried emotions I thought were dead clawed desperately to break free.
No!!
"Then you should see a psychiatrist!" I shot to my feet, the chair scraping back harshly. I grabbed the folder. "My work here is done. I'll email you the remaining details. Goodbye."
I turned and walked away, practically fleeing. I couldn't stay another second.
I hurried through the café and shoved through the door. Cold wind hit my face, but I felt nothing. Only my heart pounding wildly, threatening to burst from my chest.
"Every single night for seven years."
He said he dreamed of me, he...
"Wait!" Kayden burst out after me, grabbing my arm hard, trying to pull me into his embrace.
"Let go!" My nose stung. I fought back unbidden tears. "Mr. Blackwood, please show some restraint."
"Layla." He cut me off with an almost desperate plea. "Please. Let's speak some truth. No Ross, no work. Just Layla and Kayden."
"We have nothing to discuss," I said, still struggling—physically and mentally.
I couldn't soften. Couldn't yield, not even once... or I'd completely fall apart.
"How can you say that?!" Kayden's grip tightened. "About seven years ago, about that child, about—"
"My name is Ella Ross!" I wrenched free with all my strength, stepping back. "I don't know any Layla. That child is mine. He has nothing to do with you."
"How long will you keep lying?" Kayden's voice suddenly rose, the raw pain in his eyes shocking me. "I know he's our son!"
"What do you know?!" I shouted back, tears welling. "You don't know anything!"
"Then tell me!" Kayden stepped forward, gripping my shoulders. "Tell me what you went through these seven years! Tell me how you survived! Tell me..."
His voice broke.
"Tell me why you never came back to me."
I froze.
No, this can't be happening...
Kayden's eyes brimmed with tears. This powerful Alpha, this ruthless business titan... right now looked like a wounded child before me. He suddenly released me and pulled a small notebook from his suit jacket. Old and worn, corners frayed.
My eyes widened in shock. That was—
"Your diary," Kayden said softly, cradling it like a precious treasure. "Your diary from ages fifteen to twenty-five."
How did he have my diary? My belongings should have been disposed of after I "died."
"You claim you're not Layla." Kayden opened to a page—my youthful handwriting staring back at me. "You just wrote in front of me. Shall we get a handwriting analysis? I could never mistake Layla's handwriting. These seven years, day and night, I've read this over and over."
"Mr. Kayden appeared at the training grounds today. All the girls were talking about him, but I only dared hide behind a tree and peek. My heart pounded so fast, like it would leap from my chest..."
"I made another bouquet, this time with the prettiest camellias, tied with silk ribbon. I never had the right to give it to Mr. Kayden, but maybe, someday..."
"I felt that pull, like an invisible thread extending from my heart, connecting to him. We really are fated mates. If he would marry me, how wonderful that would be..."
Memories crashed over me like a tidal wave.
All the past I'd forced myself to forget—ten years of secret love, my stolen glances and private joy, the coat I treasured, the flowers I never gave... it all backlashed now, devastating me. Intense heartbreak and fierce joy seized my heart simultaneously.
He read my diary. He kept my diary. He knows I loved him.
"Layla, I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness." Kayden clutched the diary, knuckles white. "I know I hurt you, humiliated you, pushed you over the edge..."
"But I'm begging you..." His tears finally spilled over. "As Layla, give me one chance to at least tell you what I truly thought seven years ago."
Were those... tears?
Kayden Blackwood was crying for me?
Seven years of suppressed love finally ignited in this moment, after that single tear, consuming me completely.
Kayden. Kayden. How desperately I wanted to throw myself into his arms. I wanted to tell him I was Layla, I loved him, I loved him hopelessly. I wanted to bite his lips, taste his tears, I wanted—
"Kayden, what are you doing here?"
Both Kayden and I turned.
A stunning woman approached, dressed in an elegant Chanel suit and limited edition heels, wavy hair cascading perfectly over her shoulders. She smiled, naturally linking her arm through Kayden's, then turned to me and extended her other hand.
"Hello, I'm Victoria. Kayden's fiancée."