CHAPTER 2

Whirlwind Romance

I should have known better.

Fairytales don't happen in real life, not the way they do in books or movies. But with Alex Blackwood, it felt real—like I had stepped into a world where magic existed, where love wasn't just a slow burn but a fire that consumed everything in its path.

It started with a single text the morning after the gala.

Good morning, Sophia. I hope last night wasn't just a dream.

I stared at the message longer than I should have, my heart beating faster than I wanted to admit.

I typed back. If it was, I don't want to wake up.

A few hours later, a sleek black car arrived at my gallery. The driver handed me a small box wrapped in silver ribbon. Inside was a single white rose and a note:

Dinner. Tonight. Don't say no.

I should have hesitated. I should have questioned why a man like Alex was so determined to sweep me off my feet.

But I didn't.

---

That night, I found myself on a rooftop terrace high above the city, where soft candlelight flickered against the dark sky. A long table was set for two, draped in white linen, surrounded by delicate roses. The scent of them mixed with the cool night air. The world below us felt miles away as if this place existed outside of time.

Alex stood by the table, waiting for me. The moment his eyes met mine, something inside me shifted.

"You look beautiful," he said, his voice low, almost reverent.

I smiled, but there was a nervous flutter in my chest. "You don't waste time, do you?"

He pulled out my chair, waiting for me to sit. "Life's too short for waiting."

As we ate, conversation flowed easily, but beneath it, something deeper pulled at me. He asked about my childhood, my dreams, my fears. He listened like no one else ever had, like my words held weight.

"You make everything feel effortless, Alex," I admitted softly, watching him over the flickering candle.

He reached across the table, taking my hand in his. His fingers were warm, strong, and steady. "That's because I know what I want."

I swallowed. "And what is that?"

His eyes locked onto mine, unblinking. "You."

A breath hitched in my throat. The intensity in his voice, the way he said it without hesitation, without doubt—it should have scared me. But it didn't.

Instead, it made me feel weightless like I was falling and didn't care if I ever hit the ground.

---

Days turned into weeks, and every moment with Alex felt like something out of a dream.

A weekend getaway to a private villa by the ocean, where the waves crashed against the shore as we drank wine on the balcony.

A midnight drive through the city, where we parked on an empty street and danced under the glow of streetlights.

A surprise visit to my gallery, where he walked through the exhibits with his hands in his pockets, studying each piece as if he were seeing the world through my eyes.

Every time I thought I had figured him out, he did something unexpected. Something that made me fall a little deeper.

But in the quiet moments, when the lights dimmed, and the world fell away, I could feel it—that unspoken truth hiding just beneath the surface.

He was holding something back.

---

One evening, after another perfect dinner, Alex drove me home.

He walked me to my door, his hand resting lightly on my waist, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

"Stay," I whispered, surprising even myself.

A flicker of hesitation crossed his face—so quick, I almost missed it. Then he cupped my face in his hands, his thumb tracing my cheek.

"Sophia…" His voice was soft, but there was something underneath it. A warning.

I didn't want warnings. I wanted him.

I leaned in, closing the distance between us. He kissed me then—slow, deep, consuming. The kind of kiss that made the rest of the world disappear.

When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine.

"I don't want to hurt you," he murmured.

My fingers curled around his jacket, pulling him closer. "Then don't."

He exhaled as if the words carried more weight than I understood. But he didn't leave.

Not that night.

---

The next morning, I woke up to the smell of coffee and the sight of Alex standing by my window, looking out at the city.

For a moment, he looked… different. Not the confident, charming man who always seemed in control. He looked lost.

I wrapped the sheet around me and walked over, touching his arm. "Alex?"

He turned, and just like that, the mask was back. He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "I was just thinking."

"About what?"

His lips pressed together for a brief second before he answered. "About how I don't deserve this."

My stomach tightened. "Don't say that."

He kissed my forehead, lingering for a moment. "You don't know everything about me, Sophia."

"Then tell me," I said, searching his face. "Whatever it is, I can handle it."

Something flashed in his eyes—something dark, something almost painful.

Before he could answer, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and his jaw clenched.

"I have to go," he said, already grabbing his jacket.

Just like that, the moment was gone.

I watched as he walked to the door, hesitation in his step. Then, at the last second, he turned back.

"I'll see you tonight," he promised.

And then he was gone.

---

But he never came back that night.

Or the next.

I called. No answer.

I texted. No reply.

Something was wrong. I could feel it in my bones.

Then, on the third day, a single message appeared on my phone.

Forget me, Sophia.

I stared at the words, my chest tightening, my hands shaking.

No.

Something had happened. Something he wasn't telling me.

And I wasn't about to let him disappear without a fight.