CHAPTER 3:
The news spread faster than wildfire. Every gossip column in Milan and Bologna had the same headline.
Billionaire CEO Troy Moretti Linked to Unknown Designer Elena Rossi
For Elena, it felt like the world had turned its eyes toward her cold, judgmental eyes that whispered, she doesn't belong
And for Troy, it was worse. Investors called. Partners questioned his focus. The board demanded explanations.
He stood before them in the glass conference room, jaw clenched.
"My personal life is not a company matter," he said evenly. "It becomes one," his vice president replied, "when it affects your image. Or your decision."
He dismissed the meeting, but inside, a storm was brewing.
That night, he went to Elena's studio. The moment he saw her paint on her hand, a stubborn park in her eyes, he wanted to forget the world. But the pressure from his empire followed him like a shadow.
"They say you are a distraction," he said finally. "And what do you say?" she asked quietly.
He hesitated. That hesitation said everything.
Her smile faded.
"You're not the man who came to me in the rain," she whispered. "You're the man who rejected me all over again."
He walked away before he could speak. And for the first time in years, Troy felt something he didn't know how to handle: "helplessness,"
Days turned into silence. Elena threw herself into her work. Her new collection, "Embers," was her best yet. Each dress carried pieces of her heartbreak; fierce lines, wild color, emotion stitched into silk.at'
When the show opened in Milan, Troy was nowhere to be seen. But he watched from a distance, hidden in the back, as Elena stood on stage under the light, strong, graceful, and radiant.
The audience rose in applause. Cameras flashed. Her name was everywhere, and in that moment, Troy understood; he had tried to own everything in life, his company, his image, his future. But love? Love could never be owned.
After the show, he waited for her backstage. She froze when she saw him.
"What are you doing here? She asked, "apologizing," he said simply, "not as the CEO. Not as the man who hurt you. Just as me."
Her eyes softened, but her voice was steady.
"You don't get to walk in and out when it's convenient, Troy." "I know," he said. "That's why I'm here to stay."
He reached into his pocket and handed her something small, a golden thread bracelet.
"You gave me fire," he said. "I want to wear it, so I never forget what I almost lost."
Elena hesitated, then tied it around his wrist herself.
"Then don't forget, she whispered.
"Never," he replied.