Get her in

When they arrived at her apartment, the car eased to a smooth stop. The driver stepped out and opened her door.

Pearl gathered her dress and stepped out slowly.

Richard finally looked up from his phone. "Goodnight, Pearl," he said, his tone calm but distant. "Get some rest."

She gave a faint nod, clutching her purse a little tighter. "Goodnight," she murmured, not meeting his gaze.

With that, she turned and walked into the building, her heels clicking softly against the pavement, the weight of the evening pressing heavily on her shoulders.

Richard leaned back in his seat as the car eased away from her apartment building. He watched the reflection of streetlights ripple across the glass, his phone resting in his palm but untouched now.

Something lingered in the air, her silence, her restraint. It unsettled him more than he expected.

She had opened herself up to him in small, rare moments lately. And tonight… she'd tried again. But he'd let work, and his own guarded nature, draw the line too quickly.

He exhaled, rolling his wrist as he loosened his cufflink.

"Call Miranda," he said finally.

The line clicked.

"Sir?"

"Reach out to LuxeScript Media. See if there's an available role that fits Pearl Grey's qualifications. Editorial, creative — anything that matches her field."

There was a short pause. "LuxeScript? That's highly competitive."

"I know." His tone left no room for debate. "And she's qualified. She studied English, she's got the mind for it. Get her in.

"Understood."

"And Miranda?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Send her something. Not flashy. Something thoughtful."

He paused, eyes fixed on the passing blur of headlights.

"She deserves that much."

"Consider it done."

Back in her apartment, Pearl leaned her back against the door after locking it, exhaling deeply as silence wrapped around her like a blanket.

The glamour of the gala felt like a distant dream now — the glittering lights, the whispers, the weight of eyes watching her every step. Her heels dangled from one hand as she padded barefoot toward her room, the emerald gown flowing behind her like a fading memory.

It had been a long day.

Aunt Mabel.

The emotional visit.

The transformation.

The gala.

The questions.

The stares.

Cassandra.

She didn't even want to remember Mr Lucas and how he mocked her.

Pearl sighed and glanced at herself in the mirror. Her hair was still pinned up, her makeup barely smudged despite the earlier tears. Her eyes lingered on her reflection for a moment before she turned away and made her way into the bathroom.

The warm water was a balm to her tense shoulders. She stood under the stream longer than necessary, letting it wash away the weight of the day, the ache in her legs, the noise in her head, the twist in her chest.

By the time she stepped out wrapped in a towel, she felt lighter. Tired, but lighter.

She slipped into a soft cotton shirt and shorts, then dropped onto her bed with a groan. Her phone blinked on the nightstand with a few messages, but she ignored them for now.

Her thoughts drifted to Aria.

"She's going to kill me," Pearl mumbled with a weak smile, staring up at the ceiling. "Or beg for every single detail."

She made a mental note to call her in the morning. Tonight, she didn't have the energy to retell the madness. But she knew Aria, her best friend, would be bouncing with curiosity, probably already typing out a storm of texts.

Pearl grabbed her pillow and hugged it close.

One part of her still couldn't believe any of this was real. From a quiet bookstore life to rubbing shoulders with billionaires and wearing gowns designed for royalty… It was more than a whirlwind.

It was chaos in heels.

With a sleepy sigh, she turned off the bedside lamp and let the darkness pull her in. Tomorrow, she'd call Aria. Maybe even laugh about a few things. But for now, she needed sleep. Deep, dreamless sleep.

Because if life was going to keep spinning this fast… she'd need all the rest she could get.

Richard leaned back in his chair, finally pushing his tablet aside. Hours had passed, the night deepening outside his penthouse window. Work had been relentless, but productive.

His phone buzzed.

Miranda:

What should I have delivered to Miss Grey as a gesture? Flowers? Jewelry?

He stared at the screen for a moment, his mind briefly flickering back to Pearl—tired, quiet, but strong.

He typed back a reply without hesitation.

Richard:

Diamonds will be fine.

Tossing the phone onto the desk, he stood and stretched. His muscles ached with exhaustion, but the buzzing in his chest had quieted. For now.

Crossing the room, he shrugged off his blazer, letting it drop onto the arm of the couch. The city lights outside blinked softly through the glass, but for once, Richard didn't pause to admire them.

He was too tired to think. Too tired to overanalyze.

Tomorrow, there will be more to handle. More layers to navigate.

But tonight… just this once… he allowed himself the peace of silence.

With slow steps, he moved toward the bedroom, the door clicking softly shut behind him.