Chapter 5 Unspoken Tensions

Two weeks had passed, and the painting was nearly finished. Every brushstroke felt like a piece of my soul poured onto the canvas, and I couldn't deny the thrill of seeing it come to life.

During that time, Alexander had kept in touch-calling, texting, making sure I wasn't overwhelmed with work trying to be nice, loving and all that. And then there were the roses, it was literally my first time getting one

The first bouquet arrived the morning after our last conversation, a deep crimson arrangement with a note that simply read:

I don't want that moment to define us. I'll wait for you to decide what it meant. And since you go by the name Rose, it's only right that you get roses.

I had stared at the words for a long time before tucking the card away, my heart unwilling to admit how much it had calmed me.

By the time the second bouquet arrived-soft pink roses this time, carrying no message at all-I knew I had already forgiven him.

But while the roses softened something in me, they seemed to harden something in Alice.

She had noticed the flowers, of course-how could she not? They were impossible to ignore, a bright, fragrant reminder of something I hadn't fully admitted to myself. Yet, despite seeing them, she kept her expression unreadable, her reaction carefully measured.

Not a single teasing comment. Not a raised eyebrow. Nothing.

And that silence made me more uncomfortable than if she had outright confronted me.

Because I knew Alice. I knew her well enough to understand that her silence wasn't indifference-it was restraint. And when she held back like this, it was usually because she was waiting for the right moment to speak.

Or worse... the right moment to act.

I tried to shake off the unease, focusing instead on the final strokes of my painting. But even as I worked, I could feel her presence lingering in the back of my mind, a quiet storm waiting to break.

Then, as if on cue, my phone buzzed on the table.

Alexander.

I hesitated for only a second before answering. "Hello?"

"Tell me it's finished," he said, skipping any greeting. His voice was smooth, edged with excitement.

"Almost," I replied, tilting my head as I studied the canvas. "Just a few details left."

"Perfect. Then it's time we celebrate."

I frowned, picking up a paintbrush and absentmindedly twirling it between my fingers. "Celebrate?"

"Yes. You've worked hard. I want to take you out."

I let out a soft chuckle. "Alexander, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he cut in. "No business. No painting talk. Just dinner. You and me."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, but before I could get lost in whatever feeling that was, an idea struck me.

"Actually..." I started, hesitating slightly. "Would you mind if I brought a friend along?"

There was a beat of silence before he responded, his voice unreadable. "A friend?"

"Yes," I said quickly, forcing enthusiasm into my tone. "Alice. She's been... curious about you. And I think it would be good for her to see you're not as intimidating as she thinks."

Another pause. This one longer.

Then-

"If that's what you want."

His agreement should have reassured me, but something about his tone made my stomach tighten.

"Great," I said, trying to shake off the unease. "I'll let her know."

But just as I was about to hang up, his voice came through again-softer this time, almost amused.

"Rose."

"Yes?"

"You should be careful what you wish for."

My breath caught in my throat.

"What does that mean?" I asked slowly.

But he only chuckled, the sound smooth and effortless. "I guess you'll find out at dinner."

The call ended.

I stood there, staring at my phone, a chill running through me.

What had he meant by that?

And more importantly... had I just made a mistake?

But he only chuckled, the sound smooth and effortless. "I guess you'll find out at dinner."

The call ended.

I stood there, staring at my phone, a chill running through me.

What had he meant by that?

And more importantly... had I just made a mistake?

I set my phone down, exhaling slowly, trying to push the unease away. This was a simple dinner-nothing more. Alice would be there. It wasn't like it was a real date.

Right?

I stepped out of my room to find Alice sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She barely looked up when I entered, but I could feel the tension in the air. Her silence still lingered from earlier-the roses, the calls, my growing connection with Alexander.

I cleared my throat. "So... Alexander invited me to dinner."

That got her attention. She looked up, raising a brow. "Dinner?"

I nodded, taking a seat across from her. "Yes. He said it's a way to celebrate me finishing the painting."

She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. "Celebration? Or an excuse to get you alone?"

I expected the teasing, but her tone held something else-something sharper.

I smiled tightly. "Actually, I told him I'd be bringing you along."

That made her pause. Her lips parted slightly before she quickly masked her reaction. "Wait... you invited me?"

"Yes," I said, holding her gaze. "I figured it would be nice for you to see that he's not some manipulative billionaire trying to buy me. Maybe then you'd relax a little."

Alice tilted her head, tapping her nails against the armrest of the chair. "Huh."

"That's all you have to say?"

She shrugged. "I just didn't think he'd agree to that. He seems like the type who wants you all to himself."

I rolled my eyes. "You've barely spoken to him."

"And yet," she dragged out the words dramatically, "I have instincts."

I sighed, not wanting to go in circles. "Look, I just want you there. You're my best friend, and your opinion matters. So, will you come or not?"

Alice studied me for a moment before giving a small smirk. "Of course I'll come. Someone has to make sure you don't get blinded by all that billionaire charm."

I let out a small laugh, relieved.

But something in her expression told me she wasn't coming just to be supportive

I kept wondering if i was not making any mistakes with this, alex gave me my first contract so forgetting the advances he as been making towards me, he still as a special place in my heart being the first person to give me the opportunity to believe in myself and my work that would help me make a name for myself which is quite rare.

I decided to grab chilled water and just head to my room to finish the painting and not let all this drama consume me.

The next afternoon, a package arrived at my door, it was for me.

I did not order anything, so when I saw the package in a sleek black box with a gold ribbon, my stomach flipped.

Inside, nestled in delicate white tissue paper, was the most breathtaking gown I had ever seen. Midnight blue, with subtle shimmering details that caught the light like stars. The fabric was soft under my fingertips, the silhouette designed to hug the body in all the right places.

A note was placed on top:

Every artist deserves to stand out. See you tonight.

But that wasn't the only surprise. As I continued to unbox the package, I found a second box. This one was smaller and flatter. Opening it, I found a pair of sleek, black flats-elegant, simple, and comfortable. Along with them, a note that made me smile:

I want you to be totally comfortable, so no need wearing heels to impress me.

Impress you?? I gave a smirk while reading it.

I hadn't expected such thoughtfulness. The flats were practical, yes, but it was clear Alexander had been paying attention to what mattered to me since the first day we met, which gave me a deep feeling of warmth inside me.

Alice, who had been watching from the kitchen, finally spoke. "You cannot be serious."

I turned to her. "What?"

She gestured toward the dress and shoes. "Rose, he bought you a gown and shoes?"

I hesitated. "I guess so."

She folded her arms. "And you don't find that... a bit much?"

I knew what she was implying. That this was another way for Alexander to exert control-to turn me into someone molded by his wealth.

But looking at the gown and shoes, I didn't feel controlled. I felt seen.

"It's just a dress, Alice," I said, brushing past her skepticism.

She scoffed. "It's never just a dress with men like him."