Page 8 of Sexted By a Stranger

Sheila

My phone rang. It was Luca.

"Sheila." His voice came through the receiver. "How's Leon?"

"The doctor says he's stable. Rejection reactions are within the expected range." I leaned against the wall, trying to make my voice sound relaxed. "I just found out you arranged for the doctor, too. Thank you, Luca."

"No problem." He paused. "Free tonight? Let's have dinner."

My heartbeat kicked up half a notch—was this... a date?

I pressed the back of my hand to my burning cheek, hearing myself say, "Sure."

"Seven o'clock. Lennox will pick you up." Clean and efficient, he hung up, leaving a string of dial tone echoing softly in my ear.

Dinner.

With Luca.

Not in my leaky apartment, not at some greasy deli, but a proper dinner with candles and tablecloths.

I looked down at myself—gray cotton shirt, faded jeans. I couldn't find a second decent outfit in my closet. My only "dress" was the black uniform from Celestial. I couldn't help feeling troubled.

Back in the ward, Mom was peeling an apple for Leon. He looked much better, with some color back in his face. Seeing me enter, he grinned. "Sheila, I'm really recovering. You don't need to worry so much."

Mom looked at me with concern. "Sheila, you've been up all night. Go home and sleep."

"I know, Mom." I was indeed exhausted. "I'll go in a bit."

After the doctor's third round, confirming everything was fine, I left the hospital.

Back home, I relaxed, and the fatigue from days of caregiving surged up. Dinner was still eight hours away. I couldn't help falling into a deep sleep.

I didn't know how long it had been before knocking woke me.

Outside stood a woman in a suit with a gentle smile, holding two beautifully wrapped boxes in her arms.

"Miss Stella? Mia Davis from éclat Lumière. Mr. Bellomo asked me to deliver these."

My heart leaped. I took them with both hands.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Have a pleasant evening." Mia nodded slightly and left.

Closing the door, I placed the boxes on the dining table.

Untying the ribbons, the large box's black velvet cradled a pearl-gray sleeveless satin gown.

No ostentatious decorations—just the flowing sheen of the fabric itself and tailoring precise to the millimeter, outlining breathtaking elegance.

The waistline was dotted with small diamonds, almost invisible, occasionally catching the light with tiny sparkles.

Beside the dress was a matching clutch, already containing a rose gold phone and lipstick. At the far right of the box was a black velvet jewelry case.

I carefully picked up the jewelry box and opened it. Inside was an ultra-fine platinum necklace with a small, perfectly cut diamond pendant—a six-pointed star that refracted dazzling light even in my apartment's dim lighting.

I set them down reverently and opened the small box—a pair of pale gray-purple suede heels with soft lambskin soles, completely different from my hard, blister-inducing shoes.

Setting down the shoes, my fingertips brushed the cool, silky dress and that cool diamond. He'd thought of everything.

He invaded my life so forcefully, in every aspect, like being carefully wrapped in an expensive cocoon—warm, secure.

My alarm suddenly rang. I quickly threw away all those chaotic thoughts and started getting ready.

Once dressed, I did a final check of the clutch—phone and lipstick. That necklace still lay in its velvet box. I didn't wear it—too precious.

When I pushed open the rusty iron door of my apartment building, Luca's car was already parked at the curb. Lennox leaned against the car door, smoking. Seeing me appear, he immediately stubbed out the cigarette, revealing a well-trained smile.

"Miss Stella." He opened the door. "Boss is waiting at Helioson Grand."

I nodded in acknowledgment and slid into the back seat.

Lennox glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his gaze lingering on the dress for half a second.

"The dress suits you well." He started the engine.

"Thank you." I unconsciously smoothed non-existent wrinkles.

Lennox turned the wheel onto the main road, chatting casually. "I heard your brother's surgery went well?"

"Still in the rejection period," mentioning Leon, my lips curved up unconsciously, "but the doctor said it's the smoothest bone marrow transplant in the past six months."

"Thanks to Manhattan's best medical team." He said meaningfully.

I looked out the window—yes, Luca had arranged it. My chest warmed slightly.

After a few seconds of silence, Lennox's fingers tapped the steering wheel lightly. "Speaking of which, you were at Celestial for four years?"

"Yes."

"That place is a mire." Gray-blue eyes locked on mine in the rearview mirror. "Lasting four years isn't easy. Does Connor visit often? Besides checking the books."

I recalled that nauseating face. "Before that incident, I didn't even know he was the owner."

"Does he ever give you trouble?"

"Apart from that confrontation, he never noticed me." I frowned. "Why are you asking..."

"We're here." Lennox interrupted, the car stopping silently.

He got out to open my door, bowing slightly. "Enjoy your dinner."

I took a deep breath, shaking off my doubts as I walked into the restaurant.

The restaurant's interior was elegantly decorated, with crystal chandeliers casting warm light, and the air filled with a subtle fragrance. The waiter politely asked for my name, then guided me inside.

The private room door was half-open. I saw Luca first. His dark gray suit emphasized his sharp shoulder line, but the top button was undone, revealing a careless shadow at his collarbone. Laziness and danger achieved a delicate balance in him.

But the next moment, my steps froze.

A blonde beauty leaned against his table, red lips curved in a seductive smile.

She wore a form-fitting sequined gown that left nothing to the imagination, her red-polished fingernails resting lightly on Luca's shoulder as she leaned down to whisper something in his ear.

Luca had a faint smile on his lips, nodding slightly.

My chest suddenly felt squeezed by something, sour and bitter all at once. Nails dug into my palms, but I felt no pain.

"Miss?" The waiter reminded softly.

I couldn't just turn and leave. I forced myself to stay calm, walking slowly toward their table.

Luca looked up and saw me, immediately standing. In that instant, all the sharp shadows in his eyes gathered into gentle light. "Sheila, you're here."

I nodded, trying to make my voice sound calm. "Sorry I'm late."

"Right on time." He walked behind me, pulling out my chair. "Sit."

The blonde woman studied me with interest, amusement lifting the corners of her eyes. "So this is the girl you mentioned?"

My face instantly burned. I didn't know how to respond.

"Weren’t you in a hurry to catch a flight?" Luca spoke, his voice carrying the quality of cold metal.

"Indeed." She stood gracefully, saying to Luca, "Don’t forget what we just talked about."

With that, she picked up her purse from the table and left in her high heels.

I sat in the chair, emotions complicated.

"Sheila," Luca sat across from me, "she was just asking for directions."

"In a restaurant?"

"She couldn't find the restroom. I pointed the way."

Though the explanation was weak, I was too tired to keep questioning. For someone of Luca's status, it was actually normal.

"That outfit looks good on you." He suddenly changed the subject.

"Thank you." I tried to keep my tone calm. "But the necklace is too expensive. I really shouldn’t—"

"Put it on."

He interrupted, standing to move behind me.

The jewelry box opened, the cool platinum chain touching the skin at my nape.

His warm fingertips accidentally brushed past, sending tiny shivers through me.

Click—the clasp closed. That small Starlight diamond settled between my collarbones, cool but carrying his warmth.

He stepped back, his gaze lingering on the diamond for a moment before sitting back down.

My heartbeat was so loud that the entire restaurant must have heard it.

The waiter presented the menu. Beautiful gold-embossed cover, printed with ornate French script, numbers followed by zeros that made me dizzy.

Luca seemed to need no menu at all. He lounged lazily in the high-backed chair, but his gaze stayed fixed on me.

My fingertips traced over "Brittany Blue Lobster with Beluga Caviar," "Périgord Black Truffle Gold Leaf with Wagyu Tartare," "Alba White Truffle Risotto"... My gaze lingered a few extra seconds on "French Pressed Duck with Blackcurrant Sauce" and "Wagyu Filet with Black Truffle Gold Leaf."

"Brittany blue lobster," Luca suddenly spoke, voice low and certain, "with ten-year beluga caviar.

Main course—Kobe filet, Périgord black truffle shavings, gold leaf.

Medium rare, asparagus tips, change the sauce to black truffle port reduction.

" He paused slightly. "For dessert, fresh-shaved Alba white truffle ice cream. "

Every dish he ordered was an expensive dream my eyes had coveted. The waiter bowed and retreated.

When the appetizer arrived, the waiter was about to serve it when Luca raised his hand. He took the knife himself, the blade gliding through the shell and glistening pearls, movements as elegant as opening a secret letter.

A small piece of lobster was gently placed on my plate, topped with trembling caviar pearls.

"Try it," he said.

Sweet and briny exploded on my tongue. I froze, as if hearing my taste buds speak for the first time.

Looking up, he was watching me with a smile. My ears burned.

The main course followed. Luca picked up the knife again, placing perfectly cut beef wrapped in gold leaf and black truffle slices steadily on my plate.

"Try this one."

I forked a small piece. It melted on my tongue, the exotic fragrance of black truffle and cool gold leaf spreading simultaneously. Sauce accidentally touched the corner of my lips.

The next second, his fingertip had swept across my lips, wiping away that dark spot.