Inside, the chaos of a high-end photoshoot hummed with controlled urgency. Stylists whisked fabric, makeup artists dabbed at foreheads, and assistants adjusted massive reflectors like soldiers preparing for battle.

Then the door opened.

She stepped through the frame like she owned the very air around her. Tall, effortless, dressed in a simple silk blouse that seemed to hold its own light. Emerald eyes swept the room before landing—briefly, accidentally—on him.

Ethan forgot to breathe.

A single, suspended moment stretched between them. The hum of the studio faded. Her lips curved into the ghost of a smile—polite, practiced, professional.

And then it was gone, swallowed by the swarm of assistants converging around her.

He raised his camera. Click.