Chapter 3 A Dress, A Door, A Dream

The next morning came too fast.

Ivy stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, brushing her hair with tired fingers. Her eyes were puffy-probably from not sleeping. Her stomach flipped every few minutes, like butterflies were practicing gymnastics inside her.

The gala was tonight.

Adrian Blackwood-the cold, mysterious billionaire who made rooms go silent when he walked in-had invited her. Her, the girl who wore $12 sneakers and ate instant noodles for dinner.

It didn't make sense. None of it did.

Still, she had said yes.

And now she had to figure out how to enter his world without falling flat on her face.

---

After work, Ivy went straight to the second-hand store near her street. The smell of old wood and fabric hit her nose as she stepped in.

"Help you find something?" asked a friendly woman with silver hair and reading glasses.

"I need a dress," Ivy said quietly. "For a formal event. Like... a charity gala."

The woman raised an eyebrow, then smiled.

"Big night?"

"Very," Ivy whispered.

The woman disappeared into the back and returned with three dresses: one deep red, one soft lavender, and one black with glittery detail on the waist.

The black one caught Ivy's breath.

It wasn't flashy. But it shimmered just enough to feel like magic.

She tried it on in the dressing room and stared at herself in the cracked mirror.

Her heart swelled.

It wasn't about how expensive the dress was. It was about how she felt wearing it-like someone who could be seen.

---

By 7:00 p.m., Ivy stood in front of the grand hotel where the gala was held.

She had never seen anything so beautiful. Golden lights sparkled like stars above the entrance. Elegant people in gowns and tuxedos arrived in shiny black cars.

Ivy walked slowly up the steps, heels clicking, her black dress hugging her in all the right places. She wore her hair in soft waves, pinned lightly on one side. Her makeup was simple-just eyeliner and the same lip gloss from the café.

But she felt new.

She felt different.

You can do this, she told herself.

---

Inside, the ballroom was enormous. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling like frozen fireworks. Music played softly from a live band in the corner. Waiters carried trays of champagne and caviar.

Ivy stood near the entrance, unsure of where to go or what to do.

Then she saw him.

Adrian Blackwood stood across the room, dressed in a black tuxedo that looked like it was made for him. His dark hair was neatly styled, his jaw sharp, his expression unreadable as always.

But when his eyes found hers, they softened.

He didn't smile.

But he walked toward her-and the crowd seemed to part like he was made of gravity.

---

"You came," he said.

"You invited me," she replied.

He looked her up and down, slowly, deliberately. "You look... stunning."

Ivy's heart skipped.

"Thanks," she said, feeling heat rise in her cheeks.

"You're the only real thing in this room tonight," Adrian added.

"I'm also the most nervous thing," she admitted with a small laugh.

"Stay close to me," he said. "You'll be fine."

And just like that, he offered his arm.

She took it.

And suddenly, she belonged.

---

They walked through the room together. Heads turned. Whispers followed.

"Who's she?"

"New girlfriend?"

"She doesn't look like the usual type."

Ivy heard them, but Adrian didn't care. His hand rested gently at her back, guiding her through the storm of eyes and opinions like she mattered more than any of it.

He introduced her to a few people, business partners with stiff smiles and cold eyes. She nodded politely, unsure of what to say. But Adrian always stepped in when things got awkward.

At one point, he leaned down and whispered, "You're doing better than half the people here."

She smiled, and for a second, the nerves faded.

---

An hour later, they stood by a small corner table with two glasses of sparkling water.

"I didn't expect you to show up," Adrian said.

"Why not?"

"Most people say yes, but don't have the courage to walk through that door."

"I guess I'm not most people."

He looked at her then-really looked.

"No," he said quietly. "You're not."

They stood in silence for a moment. The music played. Glasses clinked. The city lights sparkled through the windows like fireflies.

"Tell me something real," he said suddenly.

"What?"

"Something about you. No filters. No lies."

She hesitated, then spoke.

"I'm scared of being forgotten."

Adrian didn't blink. "Why?"

"My mom died when I was six. My dad worked two jobs to keep us alive. I always felt like I had to be invisible to survive. Like if I took up space, someone would get tired of me."

Adrian stared at her, his expression unreadable.

"You think I'll forget you?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "But this-being here-it feels like a dream. And dreams don't last."

He stepped closer. "You're not a dream, Ivy. You're a storm I didn't see coming."

Her breath caught.

Then someone interrupted.

"Adrian," came a woman's voice. Sharp. Cold.

A tall, model-like woman in a deep blue gown walked up, her eyes narrow.

"Didn't expect to see you here tonight. And with... her."

Ivy froze.

Adrian's jaw tightened. "Samantha."

"New flavor of the month?" she said, giving Ivy a fake smile. "She looks... unpolished."

"She looks perfect," Adrian replied without blinking.

Samantha raised an eyebrow. "Careful. This city eats sweet little girls like her."

Then she turned and walked away like a storm in heels.

Ivy felt her throat tighten.

"I shouldn't be here," she whispered.

Adrian turned to her, voice firm. "Yes. You should."

---

Later, as the night began to wind down, Adrian took her out to the terrace. The city sparkled below them, and the cool night air felt like a quiet escape.

"You did good tonight," he said.

"I didn't spill anything or fall on my face. That's a win."

He chuckled-soft and low. It was the first time she'd ever heard him really laugh.

Then he looked at her again-this time softer, slower.

"I don't know what it is about you," he said. "But you make everything else feel... smaller."

Ivy's heart pounded.

She wanted to say something, but the words tangled.

Instead, she looked up at him.

And he leaned in.

---

His lips brushed hers-just barely. A whisper of a kiss. Like he was giving her a chance to pull away.

She didn't.

She kissed him back, slowly, softly, like a secret she'd been waiting to tell her whole life.

When they pulled away, her eyes were still closed.

"That was my first kiss," she whispered.

Adrian was quiet.

Then, in a voice so low it almost disappeared into the night, he said:

"I'm honored."

---

The ride back to her apartment was quiet.

He insisted on sending a car.

When it stopped at her building, he stepped out and opened the door for her.

"I'll see you again?" she asked.

He nodded. "Soon."

Then he leaned in, brushed a strand of hair from her face, and said something she'd never forget:

"You don't belong in my world, Ivy. But that won't stop me from pulling you into it."

Then he was gone.

---

Ivy stood there in her black dress, holding her breath.

Everything had changed.

The girl who served coffee yesterday had just kissed a billionaire under the stars.

And somehow, it felt like just the beginning.