Camilla returned to the office the next morning, half-expecting the walls to whisper. After the gala, the photos, and the online frenzy, she knew the environment would be... different.
But she didn't expect the silence.
As she walked past the usual cliques—marketing huddles, finance murmurs, HR corner gossip—she felt their eyes on her. Yet no one said anything. Not even a passive-aggressive smile. It was unnerving.
That was until Lucia intercepted her by the elevators.
"Well, if it isn't Manhattan's new 'It Girl,'" Lucia teased with a smirk. "Come with me. We need coffee. And I need details."
Camilla let herself be dragged away, grateful for the normalcy of Lucia's drama.
As soon as they sat down in the nearest café, Lucia leaned in.
"So? How does it feel to be a trending topic?"
Camilla groaned. "Exhausting. I feel like I should crawl under my desk and stay there."
Lucia sipped her latte, eyes twinkling. "Oh, please. You were stunning. He couldn't take his eyes off you. And neither could half the city."
"I didn't ask for this," Camilla muttered.
"No," Lucia agreed, "but you're handling it like a damn queen. Own it, Cam. You love him. It shows."
Camilla blinked. She hadn't said that out loud before. Not even to herself. The word love lingered in the air like a forbidden melody.
Did she?
Back in the office, Camilla tried to drown herself in emails and schedules. Anything to avoid Dominic. She wasn't ready for more questions—not from the press, not from him, not even from herself.
But Dominic didn't care about timing.
He knocked once before stepping into her office.
"I thought we agreed no hiding," he said gently.
"I'm not hiding," she replied, eyes on her screen.
"Camilla."
His voice had that tone again—the one that made her spine tingle.
She finally looked up.
He closed the door and walked in, his expression unreadable.
"I know this isn't easy for you. I made a bold move—maybe too bold—but I don't regret it."
She stood slowly, crossing her arms. "It's not about regret. It's about... consequences. People don't just see me as your secretary anymore. I'm a target. For assumptions. Gossip. Judgment."
Dominic stepped closer. "Then let me protect you."
"You can't control what people say."
"No," he admitted, "but I can control how I respond. I can show them I'm not just toying with you."
He paused, reaching into his jacket.
Camilla's breath caught as he pulled out a small black box.
Not a ring. But a key.
"To my apartment," he said quietly. "A spare. No pressure. Just... an open door."
She stared at it.
This wasn't about moving in. This was about trust. Vulnerability. Choice.
"Why now?" she asked softly.
"Because I'm tired of pretending I don't need you," he replied. "And because I want you to know—this isn't a phase. You're not just my distraction, Camilla. You're the reason I look forward to waking up."
The silence stretched between them.
Then, slowly, she reached out and took the key.
"I'm not moving in," she said with a faint smile.
"I know."
"But I'm not walking away either."
His smile broke through then—quiet, relieved.
That weekend, they went grocery shopping together for the first time.
It wasn't planned. It wasn't glamorous. But it was real.
Camilla wandered the aisles barefoot in his oversized hoodie, a shopping basket in one hand, and a list in the other.
Dominic trailed behind her, adding random snacks she didn't approve of.
"You're a billionaire," she pointed out, "and you still buy instant noodles?"
"I'm a man of taste and convenience," he replied proudly.
At checkout, the cashier asked, "Date night?"
Camilla laughed. "Something like that."
Dominic just reached for her hand and gave it a light squeeze.
That night, they cooked together—badly.
Camilla burned the garlic.
Dominic dropped a whole carton of eggs.
They ended up ordering takeout and eating on the couch, legs tangled, wine in hand.
"You know," Camilla murmured, "this feels more intimate than the gala."
"That's because it is," Dominic replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "This is you. Me. No pretense."
"And you like that?"
"I love it."
There it was again.
That word.
Camilla looked at him carefully. "You said love."
He nodded slowly. "I did."
Her heart fluttered. "Are you sure?"
"I've never been more sure about anything."
She set her wine down and turned fully to him.
Then kissed him.
Slowly. Deeply. Like she was answering a question neither of them had dared ask out loud before.
Later that night, wrapped in sheets and shadows, Camilla whispered, "What happens if this goes wrong?"
Dominic kissed her shoulder. "Then we figure it out. Together."
She turned to face him. "And if it goes right?"
His eyes met hers. Warm. Unwavering.
"Then I wake up next to you for the rest of my life.