Page 9 of Sexted By a Stranger

I jerked back as if burned. "You—"

"Sauce," he withdrew his hand.

I lowered my head, heart pounding. For years, I'd been Mom and Leon's shield, but now he handled me like fragile porcelain.

"Luca," I heard myself ask, "do you do this with every girl?"

He set down his knife and fork, gaze piercing through candlelight straight into my eyes.

"Only you, stellina."

My fingers unconsciously clutched the napkin, heart beating so fast it might burst from my chest. His focused gaze left me nowhere to hide.

Before I could recover, Luca forked another piece of gold-wrapped beef to my lips, eyes gentle. "Try more."

His gentleness was like the finest wine. I was drowning in it.

After dinner, I walked out of the restaurant on Luca's arm.

"Come somewhere with me," he suddenly turned his head, lips curving with an enigmatic smile. "You'll like it."

"Where?"

"Somewhere we can see stars."

Lennox was already waiting in the portico. Seeing us emerge, he immediately opened the rear door respectfully.

Luca released my hand, letting me enter first. Then he sat beside me, our shoulders touching, his presence instantly filling every inch of space.

Twenty minutes later, the car stopped before a brightly lit building. Massive glass walls reflected the city lights. At the entrance stood an elegant sign: Venus's Eye - Contemporary Fine Jewelry Art Exhibition.

Blood instantly rushed to my fingertips, bringing a slight tingling. This was the place I'd seen countless times in magazines, fantasized about entering in dreams—gathering the latest works from the world's top designers, the holy grail of jewelry design.

I turned to him in disbelief. Luca had already exited, extending his hand to me.

"Let's go."

Inside the vast exhibition hall, lighting was carefully sculpted into soft spotlights.

Dazzling jewelry pieces were housed in individual bulletproof glass cases, emanating intoxicating brilliance under the lights.

The air carried a unique blend of expensive agarwood, leather, and the jewelry's own cool essence.

Well-dressed guests conversed in low voices, moving with elegant steps.

"Oh my!" I stopped at the first display case, unable to look away.

It was a brooch.

"Platinum Grain's Neptune's Drop." The words burst out in barely a whisper. "The texture of these vines, this layering and light-shadow effect, and the color saturation, it's perfect!" I pressed against the glass, almost forgetting someone else was there.

But Luca wasn't looking at the brooch at all. His gaze rested quietly on my face, as if finding more brilliant refractions there.

"Not bad," he affirmed softly.

I belatedly felt my ears burn. But he lifted his chin. "Go on."

Those two words were like pressing a switch. I moved forward, steps growing faster, language unable to keep up with my eyes.

Luca stayed half a step behind. He didn't interrupt or agree, only making a small nod when I spoke disjointedly, like a distant lighthouse's response. When I pointed to some detail, his gaze would follow my fingertips.

His tall, quiet form blocked all prying or curious looks for me, like an invisible barrier keeping the noise outside.

"Luca?"

Just as I was marveling at an antique necklace full of Eastern charm, an elegant female voice sounded behind us.

I turned.

Isabella Winston.

Cream wool-satin pantsuit, shoulder line sharp as light. Silver-gray hair tucked behind her ears, revealing a mother-of-pearl profile. She stood three steps away, smiling at us with warm certainty.

My breath caught—that was the face I'd cut from magazines and pasted in the center of my inspiration board for four whole years.

"Luca," her tone was familiar, but her gaze fell on me. "Won't you introduce this spiritually striking young lady? Seems you've discovered a pearl."

Luca stepped forward half a pace, lightly circling my waist. "Sheila Stella, my new assistant." His gaze fell on my face, flushed with excitement and nerves, lips curving in the faintest arc as he added, "She indeed has remarkable talent and passion."

"Ms. Winston." Massive surprise and nervousness left me instantly flustered. "H-hello. I-I never expected—"

Isabella approached, her gaze sweeping over my hand still suspended in mid-air. She smiled. "Your insights are very unique. Especially your understanding of enamel techniques—very thorough."

"Y-yes. I just love your Stardust Traces series from last year so much. The asymmetric orbital structure, turning celestial randomness into wearable mechanics..."

"Thank you." Her smile deepened as she extended her hand. "Nice to meet you, Sheila."

I was overwhelmed with honor, quickly grasping her hand with both of mine. "Meeting you is my honor."

The next ten minutes passed like an incredible dream. With Luca's setup, I actually had a brief conversation about jewelry design with Isabella. I gathered the courage to share my thoughts. She nodded slightly after listening and said, "Sheila, you really have potential."

That evaluation was like a shot of adrenaline. I was so moved I nearly cried. To receive her recognition, even just a simple "has potential," was enough to remember for life.

Then others called for Isabella. She smiled in farewell. "Keep your passion and unique perspective, Sheila. I look forward to seeing your growth."

I stood there, watching Isabella's retreating figure, blood still burning with excitement, cheeks hot, feeling like I was floating. Everything that just happened was too unreal.

"So happy?" Luca's low voice sounded in my ear.

I snapped back to reality, looking at him. The exhibition hall's soft light fell on his sharply defined profile. Massive gratitude and the flutter from his "only you" mixed with this dreamlike encounter, bringing my feelings for him to a peak.

"Luca..." My throat tightened. I looked up directly into his eyes. "Thank you—really, thank you. Not just for tonight, not just for Ms. Winston..." But for the touchable future he'd given me.

Luca looked at me deeply, that gaze seeming to pull me in. He didn't speak, just reached out, fingertips gently brushing my eyes, moist with emotion.

The temperature of those fingertips and his focused gaze at this moment made my heart skip more than any jewelry in the exhibition hall.

"It's nothing." His voice was low and calm. "As long as you like it—"

He leaned down slightly, close to my ear, warm breath brushing my earlobe with a thrilling tone, "There will be many more nights like this, stellina."