Chapter 55

Agnes

When Ava handed me the folder, I didn’t expect much. If anything, I thought it might be a blatant attempt to one-up me or prove that she had some hidden edge in the department. But when I flipped open the cover of the folder and caught sight of the first sketch, I froze.

These drawings weren’t just good—they were stunning.

The clean lines and bold concepts were so detailed that they practically leapt off the page. Each design was both practical and eye-catching, with details that spoke to a deep understanding of the collection’s purpose.

There was a coat with detachable layers for all seasons, a pair of convertible pants that could easily transition from hiking trails to casual outings, and a dress with cleverly hidden pockets.

But what truly floored me wasn’t the quality. It was the fact that they were Ava’s. I still couldn’t entirely believe that she, of all people, had drawn such wonderful sketches.

I looked up, studying her face for any sign of smugness or insincerity. But Ava just stood there quietly, her arms crossed as she waited for my response.

“These are…” My voice faltered, and I swallowed, flipping through another page to confirm I wasn’t just imagining things. “These are really good.”

Her brow lifted slightly. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because I am.” The words left my mouth before I could stop them, and her smirk widened—no doubt with glee over seeing my facade crack for a split second. But it was true. I glanced back at the designs, shaking my head. “I didn’t even know you could draw, let alone sketch something like this.”

“Well,” she said, flipping a lock of hair over her shoulder and leaning a hip against the edge of my desk, “you’re not the only one who can surprise people, Luna. I’ve been dabbling here and there.”

“Dabbling?” I echoed, holding up one particularly detailed design of a pair of boots with a hidden slot on the inside to keep cash or other small necessities. “This looks like a year’s worth of practice, not dabbling.”

Ava shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but there was a flicker of something else in her expression—something I couldn’t quite read just yet. “Well, people change,” she said simply.

I stared up at her, narrowing my eyes slightly as I tried to comprehend what was happening. No matter what she said, this was still the same Ava who used to mock my mother’s designs and scoff at artists in general, calling them frivolous dreamers.

And yet here she was, presenting me with work that I couldn’t deny was exceptional. It was a little confusing, to say the least.

“Well, thank you,” I finally said after a long pause. “I’ll… I’ll definitely consider these for the collection.”

She gave a short nod before pushing off the desk and heading toward the door. “Let me know if you want any revisions,” she said coolly before striding out.

Once the door clicked shut behind her, I stared wide-eyed down at the sketches she’d done.

And then my gaze drifted to the pile of my own—crumpled up into balls, staring at me from the trash can like a mockery.

Dinner that evening was quiet, the kind of calm I hadn’t realized I needed after the chaos of the day. Elijah had ditched his tie and rolled up his sleeves, his forearms brushing against the edge of the table as he sliced into his steak.

I caught myself staring at him. Again. It was just… he had an effortless way of making even the simplest movements look deliberate, like every detail mattered to him. It was maddeningly attractive.

Sighing, I stared back down at my plate, cutting into my own food as I tried to focus on anything other than how unfairly good he looked in the warm glow of the dining room light. The roast chicken he’d made tonight was perfectly golden, paired with vegetables and a basket of warm bread that sat between us.

For a while, the only sounds were the clink of silverware and Thea’s occasional chatter about school projects. But as soon as Thea finished her meal and excused herself to go color in the living room, I took a deep breath and looked across the table at Elijah.

“Did you move Ava to the design department?” I asked, keeping my voice as neutral as I could.

He paused mid-cut, his knife resting against his plate as he glanced up at me. “No,” he said after a moment, then popped a bite of steak into his mouth and chewed slowly. “Why?”

“She showed up today with transfer papers that had been signed by one of her superiors,” I said. “It’s official. She’s part of my team now. I thought you knew.”

Elijah frowned, picking up his wine glass as he considered this. “Well, I certainly didn’t agree to this,” he said.

I figured as much, so I pulled the transfer papers out of my pocket and handed them to him. He scanned them for a moment, taking in the signature, before he shook his head. “I never agreed to this transfer. If it’s going to cause problems, I can have her reassigned. Just say the word.”

His offer made my chest loosen a little. I wasn’t sure why I had been half-expecting him to tell me to deal with it when he’d never made me do something like that before—maybe because he was really the first person in my life to give me so much say in what happened to me—but it was a relief to hear him say he’d fix it.

Still, I hesitated, thinking back on Ava’s sketches. As much as I wanted to hold onto my grudge and send her packing, I couldn’t deny the value she had brought to the table today. Maybe this was an opportunity, not a setback.

“No,” I said with a begrudging sigh. “I’ll give her a chance.”

Elijah’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re sure?”

I nodded, and his mouth tugged into a rare smile—the type of smile that always had a way of awkwardly reminding me just how attractive I found him, and how there was no chance of our relationship going in that direction.

“That’s admirable of you,” he said. “Most people wouldn’t have your patience.”

“It’s not exactly patience,” I said quickly, brushing a stray hair out of my face. “It’s practicality. She did some good work today. And if she has something to offer, then I’d be stupid not to use it.”

“Still,” he said, “it’s a good attitude to have. I’m impressed.”

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks before I could stop it. Cursing myself silently, I ducked my head and focused on my plate again. It wasn’t the compliment itself that flustered me—it was the way he said it, so matter-of-fact and sincere, like he truly saw me as his equal.

But I refused to let it get to me. He was an Alpha, after all, and his words carried weight. That was all this was. Nothing more.

Later that night, I tucked Thea into bed. She was already half-asleep by the time I started humming her a soft lullaby, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Goodnight, Mommy,” she murmured just before she drifted off, her voice barely audible.

My chest tightened, but I didn’t correct her. I never did. Instead, I leaned down and kissed her forehead, whispering, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

She sighed contentedly, her breathing evening out as she fell asleep. I stayed there for a moment longer, humming the rest of the lullaby, before finally standing and turning toward the door.

But I nearly yelped when I turned and saw a tall, shadowy figure standing in the doorway. My hand fluttered over my chest, my heart pounding.

“Elijah,” I murmured with a shaky laugh, “you startled me.”