Chapter 5

Gie was possessed.

There was no other way to describe it.

The moment she saw that ring on his hand, something ignited in her—the kind of fire she usually reserved for her most ambitious designs, the kind that kept her awake through the night, sketching, refining, creating.

But this time, the obsession had a name.

Alexander Millers.

The man looked sinful in her work, like the piece had been sculpted for him before he even commissioned it. And now, she couldn't stop herself.

A ring wasn't enough.

He needed more.

So she spent days, weeks, lost in the fever of creation.

She neglected other commissions—pieces that needed her attention, pieces for actual clients, pieces that would be paid for. But she didn't care.

Instead, she crafted something new.

A suit ornament—a sleek, bold accessory designed to fasten onto a lapel or the breast of a jacket. Not quite a brooch, not quite a pin. Something custom. Something only he could wear.

The metal was dark, almost gunmetal in its finish, with veins of deep red like the garnet of his ring. It was sharp, intricate—subtle in size but commanding in design. A statement without arrogance.

It was perfect.

When she finally set her tools down, exhausted and exhilarated, she stared at the finished design, her heart pounding in her chest.

And then, without a second thought, she locked it away.

Because this piece wasn't a commission.

It wasn't meant to be made.

She had no right designing another piece for a man who hadn't even asked for it. Who hadn't even acknowledged her beyond the payments and brief emails.

What the hell was she doing?

Forcing herself to breathe, she tucked the design into a special box—one filled with pieces she had never brought to life, designs she would never make. The never-made collection. The impossible ones.

And then, she forced herself to move on.

Or she tried.

The phone rang as she was setting new diamonds into a commission she'd actually been paid for.

Gie nearly ignored it, but when she saw the name flashing on the screen, she sighed and pressed accept.

"Marina."

"Gie!" The singer's voice was as smooth as the champagne she probably had in her hand. "Please tell me you've seen the absolute storm happening because of your necklace."

Gie rubbed her temple. "You mean the one you wore? Yes, I've heard."

"'Heard' is an understatement, babe. Your necklace is everywhere. It's not just a piece anymore—it's an artistic revolution. People are obsessed. It's the talk of the fashion world, high jewelry collectors are frothing at the mouth, and the industry wants to know you."

Gie leaned back, unimpressed. "I already have my clients."

Marina groaned. "And that is the problem. You're a mystery, babe. An untouchable legend. And do you know what legends need? Interviews. Stories. A face to put behind the magic."

"No."

"Gie—"

"I don't do interviews, Marina."

There was a pause, and then a long, dramatic sigh. "You know, at some point, you're going to have to step into the light."

"No, I don't," Gie said, swirling her coffee lazily. "My work speaks for itself."

"And that's exactly why people want you, not just your work."

"Let them wonder."

Marina clicked her tongue. "You are so damn stubborn."

"Thank you."

"Not a compliment, babe. The fashion world is dying to meet you, and instead, you're holed up in your studio, probably designing something insane for some billionaire with more money than taste."

Gie flinched, eyes darting to the locked box where his design sat.

Marina didn't know how accurate that was.

"Look," the singer continued, her voice softening, "I get it. The recluse thing? The mystery? It makes your jewelry even more legendary. But don't you ever want to—I don't know—be there to see it? To watch people admire what you create?"

Gie's fingers tightened around the edge of her workbench.

She didn't answer.

Because no—she didn't want to be there.

Because if she was there, she would become the story. And if she became the story, it wouldn't be about her work anymore. It would be about her.

And that was the one thing she never wanted.

Marina exhaled, sensing the battle was lost. "Fine. Be a mystery. Just know that if you ever change your mind, the world is waiting."

Gie smiled faintly. "I won't."

And with that, she hung up.

But the words lingered.

And for the first time in a long time, she wondered.

The problem with obsession was that it didn't fade.

No matter how many projects Gie finished, no matter how many new commissions she took on, that one design never left her mind.

It haunted her.

Every time she worked on a new piece, she found herself drifting back to it—the sleek lapel ornament, the veins of dark red against the metal, the way it would sit perfectly against a tailored jacket.

Against his jacket.

She had locked it away, shoved it deep inside the never-made collection, and yet…

It wasn't enough.

One evening, when she should have been finishing a custom bracelet for an actual paying client, her hands moved on their own. She opened the cabinet, pulled out the sketch, and placed it in the center of her worktable.

And just looked at it.

The design was already flawless, but her fingers itched to refine the details, to make it perfect.

So she started working again.

Tweaking the engravings. Adjusting the angles. Visualizing how the light would hit it in motion.

She didn't even notice when Alina stepped into the studio.

"Oh my God, Gie, you're still on that?"

Gie barely looked up. "It's not finished."

Alina crossed her arms, leaning against the workbench with a knowing smirk. "You've been obsessing over that for weeks. Why don't you just make it?"

Gie exhaled sharply, rubbing her forehead. "Because it's not for a client."

Alina raised a brow. "So?"

"So, it would be pointless."

Alina rolled her eyes. "Please. Don't act like you haven't made jewelry just for the sake of making it before. You don't always need a reason."

Gie hesitated. That was true—some of her best work had come from moments of inspiration, designs she had created just because they needed to exist.

But this…

This wasn't just a random design.

This was his.

Even if he never saw it. Even if he never wore it.

The thought alone made her stomach tighten.

Alina's smirk widened, her teasing tone cutting through the silence. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're making this for someone."

Gie's eyes flickered up, glaring at her. "I'm not."

Alina's laughter was pure evil. "Oh, please. We both know exactly who this is for."

"It's not for anyone."

Alina leaned in, her voice full of mischief. "He's like your muse now, isn't he?"

Gie stiffened.

"Shut up," she muttered.

Alina grinned, unfazed. "You're obsessed, babe. And honestly? I love it."

Gie groaned, dropping her head onto the worktable.

Because she couldn't deny it anymore.

Alexander Millers had gotten under her skin.