And if you work hard, if you trust me, I’m going to make you a star.
Novi’s throat tightened. I don’t know how to thank you. Thank me by showing up.
By working harder than you’ve ever worked. By being ready when your moment comes. The elevator doors opened and Darius stepped out, turning to face her with that easy smile.
And maybe thank Zach. He’s the one who made this happen. Zack. Novi thought about him the entire drive back to the mansion.
Zack who had saved her from a forced marriage. Who had paid $4 million to free her, who had given her a place to live and a chance at her dreams.
Zach, who held her at arms length but carried her to his bed when she fell asleep.
Zack who said her voice was transcendent and meant it because he was physically incapable of saying something he didn’t mean.
I need to thank him, she thought. Really thank him, not just with words, something more.
By the time the car pulled up to Zenith Estate, she had a plan. That evening, Zach came home at 700 p.m.
Same as always. Novi was waiting in the foyer. She’d changed into a nicer dress, emerald green, fitted at the waist, borrowed from the guest collection, and actually put effort into her hair and makeup.
She looked good. She felt nervous as hell. “You’re home,” she said, then immediately wanted to kick herself.
“Obviously, he’s home. He’s standing right there.” Brilliant observation, Novi. Zach paused in the doorway, his black eyes sweeping over her appearance.
Something flickered in his expression. Surprise, interest. But it disappeared before she could name it.
You look nice. The words were flat, casual, like he was commenting on the weather.
But coming from Zach, they might as well have been a love sonnet. Thank you.
Novi clasped her hands in front of her to keep them from trembling. I wanted to tell you about my meeting and to thank you properly.
The meeting went well then. It went. She laughed slightly hysterical. Darius Webb signed me to a development deal.
3 months of training, then I start recording my debut EP. It’s It’s everything I ever wanted.
For a moment, just a moment, something warm flickered in Zach’s charcoal eyes. Good, he said.
You deserve it. Because of you, Novi stepped closer. I wouldn’t have any of this without you.
The freedom, the opportunity, the chance to even try. She took a breath. I want to do something for you.
To thank you. Zach’s expression shuddered. That’s not necessary. Please let me make dinner. A real dinner, something special, just the two of us.
I have work, Zach. She reached out and touched his arm. He froze. It was the first time she’d voluntarily touched him since that day in the wedding hall when she’d held his hand to convince Desmond they were together.
His muscle tensed beneath her fingers, but he didn’t pull away. “Please,” she said softly.
“Let me do this.” For a long moment, he didn’t respond. His black eyes searched her face like he was looking for something.
A trap maybe or a hidden agenda, but all he found was sincerity. “Fine,” he said finally.
“So, one dinner.” No face lit up. “Thank you. I’ll have it ready by 8.”
She practically skipped toward the kitchen, her heart soaring. She didn’t see the way Zach watched her go.
His expression conflicted, confused, like a man standing at the edge of a cliff, unsure whether to step back or fall.
The kitchen at Zenith Estate was Mave’s domain. She ruled it like a queen or a tyrant, depending on who you asked.
Every pot, every pan, every spatula had its place, and God help anyone who moved something without permission.
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