Amara's POV
The phone felt warm against my ear as I paced across my tiny apartment, my eyes flicking to the blinking clock on the stove.
"Tessa, no," I said for the third time. "Absolutely not. I'm booked for the next two months. I can't just squeeze in some mystery client."
On the other end of the line, my best friend let out a dramatic sigh. "Amara, just listen."
"I am listening," I muttered as I slid open my balcony door to let some air in. The city traffic roared below, a constant growl mixed with the smell of rain and gasoline. "And I'm still saying no."
"I haven't told you the professional fee yet," she said, her voice light and teasing.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Tessa—"
"More than one hundred thousand dollars. For your first week."
I froze mid-step, one foot hovering near the balcony threshold. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me," she replied, clearly pleased with herself. "One hundred thousand. And that's only your professional fee."
My heart skipped. That amount alone could erase my sister's tuition debt and finally give me a down payment on the small cottage I dreamed of owning back home.
I swallowed. "Where exactly am I supposed to go?"
"The Alvarez mansion," she said casually, as if she hadn't just dropped a bomb.
My stomach dropped. "Tessa. No."
"Why can't I meet your cousin in a café or at my office?" I demanded.
"He's busy," she said smoothly. "He's paying you hourly. You don't have to worry about anything. I know you have plenty of clients now, but this is different. Trust me."
I stared at the slick rooftops below, my grip tightening on the phone. "I don't know. I work mostly with middle-class clients. How am I supposed to convince him I'm good enough when I'm not well known in your circle? I've only handled two really big accounts."
"And both were perfect," she reminded me. "The photos, the videos, the attention they got. You're the only one I'd choose for this. You know how our clan works. Once you handle one of our weddings, the elite will come running. This is your chance."
My voice softened. "Whose wedding is this, exactly?"
There was a pause. "Just my cousin's," she said lightly.
I frowned. "Which cousin?"
"Amara," she said, avoiding the question, "he trusted me to choose the coordinator. I chose you. I know what I'm doing. This is your break. Don't ruin it."
I rubbed the tight knot in my chest. She sounded so confident. Maybe I was overthinking it.
"Fine," I said quietly. "But only because of the fee."
"I knew you'd say yes!" she squealed. "I have to go. See you at the mansion this weekend. Wear something chic but practical."
Then she hung up, leaving me staring at my phone as the name Alvarez echoed in my mind like thunder.
When I dressed that morning, I chose my outfit carefully. An elegant navy dress that fit close without revealing too much. A slim belt at the waist. Heels that gave me a little extra confidence. I told myself it was about professionalism, about control.
But I hated that as I zipped it up, Trey crossed my mind. I hated that even after ten years, I still wondered how he would see me, whether he would notice the woman I had become.
Then everything went wrong.
My car battery died in the middle of the road, rain pouring so hard it turned the street into a silver river. The windshield wipers were useless. My hazard lights blinked like a warning signal as impatient drivers swerved around me.
My hands shook as I called roadside assistance, praying someone would come quickly. Every minute dragged. My phone buzzed nonstop.
Where are you?
He's waiting.
You can't be late.
By the time the tow truck jump-started my car, my dress hem was damp, my hair frizzed from the humidity, and my palms slick with stress. This was supposed to be the job that changed everything. Instead, I was arriving late and flustered at the one place where I needed to look flawless.
The rain was still falling when I pulled up to the marble steps of the Alvarez estate. My breath caught as I stepped out, heels clicking against stone I once polished as a child. I slung my bag over my shoulder like armor and stared at the mansion. It looked even larger than I remembered, its windows glowing gold against the storm, chandeliers sparkling like the stars I used to wish on.
Inside, the scent hit me first. Vanilla, antique leather, polished wood. Old money. The air itself felt like it remembered me, whispering secrets of the girl who once hid in its corners. I straightened my shoulders, clutching my portfolio, and forced myself to walk like I belonged.
I followed the butler through the wide foyer toward the living room. My heart pounded harder with every step. Then I saw them.
Tessa stood near the marble fireplace, smiling nervously. Beside her was a man in a charcoal suit, taller than I remembered, broader, sharper. Storm light framed him like a portrait. Even before I saw his face, I knew.
Trey.
My knees almost gave out. Ten years had changed him completely. The boy who once smelled of soap and liniment now looked like a man carved from control and power. His suit fit perfectly, outlining broad shoulders and a disciplined body.
His jaw was sharper, his cheekbones more defined. A faint shadow of stubble framed a mouth that no longer smiled easily. His eyes, still dark as a storm, carried an intensity that felt dangerous.
Even the way he stood had changed. Still. Commanding. The kind of presence that silenced rooms.
I forced a smile at Tessa. "So... where's the groom?"
She froze. In that silence, my stomach dropped.
"I'm the groom," Trey said.
His voice was low and smooth, cutting through the room.
I turned toward him. Our eyes met, and I knew instantly that Tessa had lied. This was not a break. It was a trap.
Trey looked back at Tessa, his gaze flicking to my damp dress, my frizzed hair, and the clock on the wall. "Where's the wedding planner you promised?" he asked coolly. "She was supposed to be here an hour ago."
My mouth opened, but no sound came. Tessa faltered.
"I'm the wedding planner," I said at last.
The air shifted. Trey's eyes moved over me slowly, critically. His lips curved, not in a smile, but in disbelief.
"You're joking." He looked at Tessa. "This is her?"
Tessa tried to speak, but Trey lifted a hand. "She's late. She looks unprepared. And this is who you hired?" His voice turned colder. "Do you even know what you're doing? This isn't a birthday party. It's my wedding. I don't need someone young and inexperienced turning it into a mess."
Heat rushed up my neck. My throat tightened.
"She's one of the best," Tessa tried.
Trey laughed softly. "The best? She barely looks old enough to drink."
The words stung. My portfolio felt heavier. Every part of me wanted to shrink, but I lifted my chin.
"I'm right here," I said quietly. "And I'm not a child."
He raised an eyebrow. "Then impress me. Because all I see is the maid's daughter pretending she belongs."
Something inside me cracked.
I took a breath, steadying myself. I would not let him see me bleed.
The room blurred. Marble floors. Rain tapping against windows. His words echoing, the same ones from ten years ago. The same tone. The same judgment.
But I hadn't built my life from nothing just to be humiliated again.
I stepped forward, my heels striking the floor sharply. "Enough."
His eyes flicked to mine.
"You don't know me anymore, Mr. Alvarez," I said steadily. "You don't know what I've built. And you don't get to define me based on who my mother worked for."
His jaw tightened.
"You're judging my age and my background," I continued. "That isn't confidence. It's prejudice."
Tessa looked panicked. "Amara—"
"No." I didn't look away from him. "I've handled events bigger than this for people with less patience. I've earned my reputation. You haven't seen me in ten years. You don't get to call me inexperienced."
For the first time, Trey looked unsettled.
"Careful," he said. "I'm the one who signs your checks."
"And I'm the one who can make your wedding perfect," I replied. "Or unforgettable for all the wrong reasons. You hired me. Either trust me, or fire me and see how hard it is to replace me now."
Silence fell.
Finally, he exhaled. "Fine. Prove me wrong."
"I already have," I said quietly. "You just haven't noticed."
I turned and walked past him, my legs shaking but my head high.
Behind me, thunder rolled.
Then Tessa blurted, "Amara already signed the contract. The deposit cleared this morning."
I stopped.
Trey turned sharply. "She signed yesterday?"
Tessa nodded. "It's binding."
The floor tilted beneath me.
"Then she stays," Trey said coldly. "And she delivers."
I tightened my grip on my portfolio and lifted my chin. "Understood."
The word tasted like iron.