The next day, as the clock struck five, a sharp knock echoed from my office door, followed by Arabella’s familiar, cheerful voice.
“Hey, are you ready to go? The girls are meeting us at the shop,” she said, her bright smile lighting up the doorway. Arabella had that kind of presence—the kind that made people instantly feel at ease. Her auburn hair was pulled into a loose, effortless bun, and she wore a chic navy blazer over high-waisted jeans, exuding the kind of casual elegance I could only aspire to.
“Yeah, just let me grab my bag,” I replied, slipping on my coat and following her out of the office.
We made our way to the elevator, the soft click of our heels in sync. As the doors slid open, we found two people already inside—a man with a neatly trimmed beard and wire-rimmed glasses and a woman with sharp cheekbones and a sleek bob.
Arabella greeted them with an easy familiarity. “Hey guys! This is Katherine—she just started yesterday.”
Turning to me, she gestured toward each of them in turn. “Katherine, meet John from accounting and Maria from the design team.”
“Hello, lovely to meet you both,” I said with a warm smile.
John chuckled, adjusting his glasses. “So, how’s your first week treating you, Miss Katherine?”
“So far, so good,” I replied, “though I haven’t had much to do yet. But I’m really enjoying it here—and please, just Katherine.”
The elevator dinged, signaling our arrival at the lobby. We exchanged goodbyes, and as Arabella and I stepped into the cool evening air, she nudged me playfully.
“Come on, the shop’s not far,” she said, linking her arm through mine.
She was right. The boutique was nestled in the heart of London, tucked between a cozy bookshop and a bustling café. The streets were alive with the city’s pulse—children darting between lampposts, street performers filling the air with music, and the scent of fresh pastries wafting from nearby bakeries. In front of the boutique, three women stood waiting, each exuding their own unique charm.
As we approached, Arabella waved enthusiastically. “Okay, everyone, this is Katherine—my boss and new partner-in-crime. Katherine, meet Lana, Isa, and Mara.” She pointed to each woman from left to right.
Lana had an air of quiet sophistication, her short black hair styled in a sleek pixie cut. She wore a tailored black pantsuit that accentuated her tall, slender frame, and her dark eyes sparkled with mischief.
Isa, standing next to her, was a vision in a long, ruby-red dress that clung to her curves effortlessly. Her wavy blonde hair cascaded down her back, and her piercing blue eyes gave her an almost ethereal beauty.
Mara, on the other hand, was refreshingly laid-back. She wore a crisp white shirt tucked into distressed jeans, but her confidence made the outfit look runway-ready. Her chestnut hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and she had an easy smile that made me instantly like her.
“Hello! It’s lovely to meet you all,” I said, laughing lightly. “I hope we can be friends—it does get a bit lonely being new in town.”
They all smiled back warmly, and Isa stepped forward, looping her arm through mine. “Don’t worry, we’ve got your back. We were all the ‘new girl’ once. Now, enough talk—let’s find you a dress that’ll turn heads.”
With that, she pulled me inside, and the others followed, chattering excitedly.
The boutique was like something out of a dream—elegant chandeliers casting a soft glow over racks of dresses that seemed to shimmer with their own magic. Silk, satin, lace—every fabric imaginable was draped in rich colors and intricate designs. It felt like stepping into a modern-day fairy tale.
We spent what felt like hours trying on dress after dress, each more stunning than the last. Arabella found a long, black princess gown that hugged her waist and flared out dramatically, making her look like royalty. When she stepped out of the fitting room, we all gasped in unison.
“You look absolutely stunning,” Mara exclaimed, snapping photos on her phone.
Finally, after much coaxing and debate, I found the dress—a long, fitted golden gown that shimmered with every movement. It had a daring slit up the right leg, revealing just enough to feel bold without being over the top. As I stepped out of the fitting room, the girls erupted into cheers.
“Oh, honey,” Isa grinned, “you’re going to break hearts in that dress.”
“You’ll definitely find a man to take home,” Mara teased, winking at me.
I rolled my eyes, laughing. “I’m here for fashion, not romance.”
After purchasing our dresses, we decided to celebrate with dinner at one of London’s most exclusive restaurants. The city’s skyline twinkled as we made our way through the bustling streets, our laughter mingling with the sounds of the night.
When we arrived, the hostess greeted us warmly, leading us to a private corner table with plush velvet seats. The ambiance was perfect—dim lighting, soft jazz playing in the background, and the clink of fine china adding to the sophisticated atmosphere.
We ordered drinks first—a round of cocktails to toast my new beginning—and then moved on to the food. I chose a shrimp salad, Arabella opted for a chicken salad, Lana ordered a delicate soup, while Isa and Mara went all out with juicy steaks, claiming they were “starving after all that shopping.”
Dinner was a whirlwind of laughter and stories. We shared embarrassing moments, swapped tales of disastrous dates, and bonded over our love for late-night snacks and bad reality TV. For the first time since moving to London, I felt a genuine sense of belonging.
Halfway through our meal, a waitress approached our table, balancing a tray with a beautifully crafted cocktail. She set it down in front of me with a polite smile.
I blinked in surprise. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t order this.”
“It’s from the gentleman at the bar,” she replied, subtly nodding in that direction.
Curious, I followed her gaze and felt my heart skip a beat.
There, lounging at the bar with effortless confidence, was he.
The man from yesterday. The one I’d bumped into.
His piercing blue eyes met mine across the room, a slow, knowing smile curving his lips. He raised his glass slightly in a silent toast, the dim lighting casting shadows that only emphasized the sharp angles of his face.
Arabella leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. “Oh. My. God. Do you know him?”
“Not really,” I murmured, unable to tear my gaze away. “We… bumped into each other yesterday. Literally.”
Mara’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Well, looks like fate’s giving you a second chance.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. Something told me this wasn’t the last time our paths would cross—and I wasn’t sure if that excited or terrified me.
What was he doing here? The question looped in my mind like a broken record, each repetition tightening the knot in my stomach. I turned back to the girls, masking my turmoil with a smile, determined not to let the mystery man at the bar rattle me. But I could feel his gaze, heavy and persistent, like a shadow I couldn’t shake.
He was impossible to ignore. The black tailored suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, the crisp white shirt beneath left carelessly unbuttoned at the top. A gleaming Rolex hugged his wrist, catching the light with every subtle movement. Everything about him screamed power, authority—and danger.
Mara, always the observant one, noticed my distraction. “Do you know him?” she asked, her voice low but insistent.
“No,” I replied casually, taking a sip of my wine, “I just… bumped into him yesterday.” I shrugged, trying to dismiss it like it was nothing.
Isa’s eyes widened, and her fork paused mid-air. “You bumped into him?” There was a tremor in her voice that hadn’t been there before.
I sighed, setting my glass down. “I was walking, he appeared out of nowhere, and yes, I bumped into him. Honestly, it was more his fault than mine.”
Arabella, who’d been unusually quiet, suddenly leaned in. “Wait,” she said slowly, “you mean to tell me you bumped into Xavier Lexington, and he didn’t do anything?”
The table fell silent, all eyes on me.
“He yelled at me,” I admitted, “but I yelled back and walked off. What’s the big deal?” Their stunned expressions made me feel like I’d just confessed to slapping the Queen.
Isa practically choked on her wine. “You yelled at Xavier Lexington? Are you insane? Do you have a death wish?”
“Okay,” I said, raising my hands, “who exactly is this guy?” The headache that had been brewing all evening throbbed behind my temples.
Arabella exhaled deeply, as if bracing herself. “Xavier Lexington isn’t just some rich guy, Katherine. He’s one of the wealthiest men in London—hell, in the whole country. Officially, he’s a businessman, but everyone knows he’s got ties to the mafia. Rumors say he’s the leader of the London mafia. People are terrified of him. Cross him, and you’re lucky if you just disappear.”
My heart sank. Shit.
Arabella reached over, placing a reassuring hand on mine. “I’m sorry, Katherine. Maybe it’s nothing. But please, stay away from him.”
I forced a smile. “Look, guys, it was just a bump. I doubt he even remembers me. The drink… it’s probably just some weird power move.”
Isa didn’t look convinced. “Let’s just hope it stays that way.”
We returned to our meals, but the uneasy tension lingered. I tried to shake off the feeling, convincing myself it was all an overreaction. But deep down, a gnawing sense of dread settled in my gut.
We finished dinner, laughing nervously over wine, trying to reclaim the lightheartedness we’d lost. But just as I started to relax, a shadow loomed over our table. The girls’ faces drained of color, their eyes widening in silent horror.
My hands trembled as I reached for my wine glass, but I barely tasted it.
I looked up—and my heart stopped.
Because no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise...
I had the sinking feeling this guy wasn’t just a passing stranger in my life.
He was about to become a problem. A very dangerous one.
