Page 32 of Sexted By a Stranger

Sheila

"The thorn elements on the necklace need modification." I pointed to the lines on the piece. "The curve here is too rounded—it lacks power. The ends need to be drawn tighter to make the lines more decisive."

George slowly moved his magnifying glass, carefully examining the area I'd indicated.

"Well," he mused, "indeed, this would better capture the Rebirth symbolism. But after the changes, the requirements for metal shaping and setting techniques will be much higher." He looked up. "Are you sure the structure around the main stone can handle it?"

"I've calculated it," I grabbed the blueprint, circling an area with my pencil. "The thorn base can be slightly thickened, the prongs designed more delicately, and we'll use high-strength platinum alloy for the material."

George bent his head again, taking up calipers to measure several key distances and angles on the blueprint. His brow furrowed in concentration.

"Structurally feasible. But the craftsmanship won't be easy."

"That's why I need you to handle the finishing, George."

"Understood." George's expression grew serious. "I'll refine the blueprints further."

I leaned in to work alongside George when the studio door suddenly swung open. Luca's tall figure appeared in the doorway.

"Quitting time, designer." He walked straight toward me, his hand settling on my waist. "Williams says you've been working overtime."

"I still want to adjust the cutting angle of the main stone…" I tried to negotiate.

"No." His tone brooked no argument, though his embrace remained gentle. "Your health and the baby's come first. Continue tomorrow."

George immediately took the hint, packing up his tools. "Sheila, Mr. Bellomo's right. Health comes first."

On the drive back to the estate, I reclined in the passenger seat, fingers tracing over the design sketches.

"Still thinking about details?" Luca covered my hand with his.

I turned my palm to intertwine our fingers. "Harper Hopkins is one of the judges. Last year, she eliminated a designer because their metal structure calculations were off by 0.3 millimeters."

Luca chuckled. "That 'Millimeter Lady'? When she sees how the thorns around the main stone will refract different light with the wearer's movement, I bet her calipers will hit the floor."

I couldn't help but laugh.

Luca always knew how to dissolve my anxiety.

"Sheila," his voice was steady, "this piece carries your soul—that unique depth and vitality is the most powerful impact of all. The judges will see it."

"You're right." I exhaled, my heart settling with certainty. "Competition ultimately comes down to skill. And I'm confident."

Three weeks flew by in intense refinement and anticipation. Finally, the glittering awards night at the New York Arts Center arrived.

"The winner of this year's design competition gold award is—" the host deliberately drew out the suspense, "Sheila Stella's 'Rebirth when despair sought to crush me, there were hands that held tight and never let go."

"Thank you to everyone who helped bring this collection to life, and to the most steadfast guardian in my life."

Applause crashed over the venue like a tidal wave. I bowed gracefully as tears slipped from my eyes.

That evening, the estate's ballroom blazed with light.

Massive crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead while the air filled with the mingled scents of champagne, fresh flowers, and expensive perfumes. Guests in formal attire raised glasses and conversed.

"Miss Stella, congratulations. Your 'Rebirth & Guardianship' collection is breathtaking."

"Especially the dynamic mechanism design in the main necklace—you've given metal a soul."

"Thank you for your kind words, Mr. White." I clinked glasses with him lightly.

"Mr. Bellomo," Jacob White turned to Luca with admiration, "it seems you've found a true gem."

Luca and I exchanged a smile. "She was never a gem, Jacob. She is the light source itself."

Jacob paused, then broke into an even deeper smile.

"Miss Stella," he turned back to me, "White Jewels is launching our brand-new Legacy series, requiring extremely high innovation in craftsmanship and profound emotional storytelling. Would you be interested in serving as our chief designer?"

This was an incredibly significant olive branch.

"Mr. White," I was delighted and surprised, "thank you so much for your trust and such a precious invitation. Participating in the Legacy series would be my honor."

Just then, Elena Rossi, jewelry editor for Vogue, approached with champagne and an enthusiastic smile.

"Jacob, Mr. Bellomo, Sheila. What's got you all so excited? Oh, Jacob, don't tell me you're trying to poach our rising star for your Legacy series?" Elena's gaze shifted between the three of us. "Sheila, darling, your work conquered everyone tonight."

"Thank you, Elena."

Jacob raised his glass to Elena. "We're exploring that possibility, Elena. Miss Stella has shown tremendous interest in the Legacy concept."

"Jacob, this is major news. White Jewels' Legacy series with our shining new star—Vogue must have exclusive coverage rights. Darling, you'll agree, won't you?" Her expectant gaze settled on me.

"Of course, I'd be honored."

Midway through the gala, melodious dance music began.

Luca took my hand and led me onto the dance floor. In the gentle music and swirling lights, he leaned down to whisper in my ear,

"How does it feel, stellina? Your talent has attracted real hunters. They see the value of 'Sheila Stella' herself, not just the éclat Lumière designer."

I spun with his guidance. "You predicted this all along?"

"Of course." His mouth curved in a confident smile. "Go for it, Sheila. Your worth deserves the most brilliant stage."

The design work for the Legacy series proved far more challenging than I'd anticipated.

Outside the windows, night had fallen deeply, but my studio in the estate still glowed with light.

Daniel and Ana, two artisans from White Jewels, and I were still refining details of the Legacy series. The dull ache in my lower back forced me to constantly adjust my position.

Spread across the desk was the seventeenth draft of the "Tempus Undae" necklace sketch. The flowing metal lines and main stone setting points still hadn't achieved the perfection I envisioned.

"Daniel," I rubbed my throbbing temples, "the sense of movement here still isn't enough. I need it to look more like a water droplet about to fall, not a frozen arc. Can you think of another approach?"

He leaned closer to the magnifying glass, his brow knitting into a tight knot.

"Damn, Sheila, these requirements are nearly impossible.

One wrong move and it'll either snap or spring back too much.

" He looked up, dark circles clear under his eyes.

"The prongs around the main stone have to balance this flowing sensation with stability, but the space is so small—there's virtually no margin for error. "

Ana sighed too. "Sheila, the color changes in Paraiba are so subtle. To ensure it still perfectly displays that neon glow under flowing metal lines, I've tried dozens of prong angles, but something's always missing."

Exhaustion mixed with anxiety washed over me, my body's weight reminding me I was nearing my limits.

I forced myself to stay calm. "I know it's difficult, but Jacob doesn't want 'fine'—he wants 'stunning.' He wants the metal to truly come alive and tell a story." I picked up my pencil, attempting to sketch another solution on the blueprint.

"Sheila, let's continue tomorrow." Ana looked worriedly at my hand constantly rubbing my lower back. "You need rest right now, not a wrestling match with metal."

My body's discomfort left me unable to argue.

"Alright, everyone, get some rest. We'll continue tomorrow."

Day after day of research and collaboration finally paid off—the Legacy series achieved a key breakthrough, and Jacob gave the preliminary models high praise.

At the same time, the dream I'd been nurturing—establishing my personal brand studio "Starlight"—became increasingly clear.

One ordinary morning, Luca led me down a quiet street I'd never explored before.

At the lane's end, the view opened to reveal a serene courtyard. Red brick walls spoke of history while enormous floor-to-ceiling windows and intricate metal structures injected modern flair.

At the courtyard's center stood a building constructed almost entirely of glass, its elegant curved glass dome gleaming in the morning light.

"Welcome to Starlight."

Before I could recover from my shock, Luca was already leading me into the glasshouse.

Before me stretched an incredibly spacious workspace, fully equipped. There was even a reading and meditation corner with thick carpeting, beside which colorful fish swam leisurely in a transparent aquarium.

Just then, a heavy oak door opened and George's familiar figure emerged, his face bright with excitement.

"Sheila. Mr. Bellomo." George approached us. "All the basic tools are in place—just waiting for you to bring this place to life."

"George. You all…" I was thrilled and surprised, never expecting Luca to have arranged the entire team.

Looking at George and his team, I knew "Starlight" was no longer just a blueprint.

Luca had given me the wings of my dreams.

With Starlight's support, the Legacy series progressed steadily toward its global launch.

The cover of Vogue's jewelry special issue featured none other than "Tempus Undae."

On publication day, White Jewels' consultation lines were flooded with calls. "Tempus Undae" and several pieces from the same series sold for jaw-dropping prices at Sotheby's charity auction.

The massive success of the Legacy series completely illuminated "Starlight's" path forward. We became extraordinarily busy.

Meanwhile, the little one in my belly grew increasingly active. Luca had practically become my "rest supervisor," and as my due date approached, he no longer allowed me to go to "Starlight"—I had to work from the estate's studio instead.

"This line is still wrong…" I muttered to myself, leaning against cushions. My swollen belly made sitting awkward, and the little one seemed to sense my frustration, giving a gentle kick.

Hearing this, Luca looked up. "Then rest, stellina."

He set down his tablet and walked around the desk, pulling the pencil and sketchbook from my hands. "Inspiration doesn't come when you're exhausted."

Before I could protest, he bent down and scooped me up horizontally. I gasped softly, instinctively wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Luca. I can walk by myself."

Well, protests were useless.

He carried me to the spacious sofa nearby.

His warm palm covered my aching lower back, gently massaging in soothing circles that nearly made me moan with relief.

"Little one's very active today," Luca's hand slid to my rounded belly, feeling the strong movements within. "Just like you—can't sit still."

I enjoyed the peace, my mouth curving upward. "Yeah, I hope the baby…" My words cut off as a sudden, gripping contraction exploded from deep in my lower abdomen.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my body instantly tensing as my fingers gripped tightly onto Luca's arms wrapped around me.

"Sheila?" Luca's voice turned sharp with concern. "What's wrong? What hurts?"

I panted heavily against his chest, fine beads of sweat forming on my forehead.

"Luca…" my voice trembled slightly, "it hurts…"

Immediately afterward, a warm gush of fluid completely beyond my control flooded out, soaking the sofa cushion beneath me.