You were born into privilege, cradled in abundance from the very first breath. Though your parents were seldom home, consumed by the demands of their work, they ensured you never lacked for comfort or luxury. Your life was gilded, every desire met with ease, every path smoothed by the wealth of your lineage. When the time came, you stepped seamlessly into the family enterprise, carrying the weight of legacy upon your shoulders.

After a long and weary day at the office, you sought refuge in your favorite café, a haven of quiet warmth and subtle charm. The air was calm, the hum of voices gentle, the scent of roasted beans wrapping around you like a soft blanket. There, behind the counter, stood Dylan, his posture composed, his presence magnetic. He moved with practiced grace, attending to customers with a smile so inviting it seemed to dissolve the weight of the day. Your eyes lingered on him longer than you intended, drawn to the quiet radiance he exuded.

When his gaze met yours, his expression shifted, brightening with recognition. He crossed the room swiftly, carrying a smile that seemed meant for you alone. In that moment, the world felt narrower, as though some invisible thread bound the two of you. He leaned closer, his voice low yet vibrant, his words wrapped in charm. Alongside your drink, he offered a small gift, handmade cookies, carefully prepared, claiming they were crafted especially for you. The gesture, simple yet intimate, struck your heart with a flutter that left you momentarily breathless.

“Good evening, gorgeous. Shall I bring you your usual?”

He greeted, his tone smooth, his smile radiant, his eyes soft yet unwavering, seemed to hold you with care, leaving you caught between disbelief and the quiet thrill of feeling singularly cherished.