The world outside her workshop had lost meaning weeks ago.Gie had been holed up in her studio, lost in the rhythmic process of creation—melting gold, shaping metal, carving designs, setting stones. It was an endless cycle of precision and passion, one that left little room for distractions.
So when Alina barged in one evening, hands on her hips and eyes alight with irritation, Gie barely glanced up from the magnifying loupe she was using to inspect the engraving on a platinum band.
"Gie," Alina sighed dramatically, "I swear to God, I will physically remove you from this place if I have to."
"That sounds violent," Gie muttered, adjusting the angle of her light to better inspect the filigree work.
"Violence is the only language you understand." Alina marched over and snatched the loupe from her sister's hand. "No arguments. We're going out. Get dressed."
Gie blinked up at her, unamused. "I'm busy."
"You live in here," Alina groaned, gesturing around the studio like it was a crime scene. "Look at you! Have you even seen the sun this week?"
Gie glanced at the tall windows at the back of the room. The sky was already dark.
"Technically, it's night now. So your argument is invalid."
Alina pinched the bridge of her nose. "You are impossible."
Gie smirked. "And yet, here you are, still trying."
Alina narrowed her eyes. "Put on a dress. Something nice. I made a reservation at Amalfi's."
Gie stilled. That was... serious. Not that they couldn't afford dinner at one of the city's most exclusive restaurants, but Alina never made reservations unless she meant business.
Sensing her hesitation, Alina softened her tone. "Come on, Gie. Just one night. No gemstones. No commissions. No emails from billionaires. Just food, wine, and your favorite sister."
Gie exhaled, giving her a long look. Then, reluctantly, she muttered, "Fine. But you're paying."
Alina grinned. "Deal."
**The restaurant was as extravagant as expected—**gold chandeliers, white linen tablecloths, soft jazz humming in the background. The kind of place where waiters glided across the floor like shadows, refilling wine glasses with quiet precision.
Gie had dressed for the occasion, though she'd grumbled the entire way. A sleek black dress hugged her frame, and her curls tumbled over her shoulders, catching the light and drawing more than a few lingering glances as they walked to their table.
Alina, of course, looked effortlessly radiant in emerald green, the color complementing her warm brown skin perfectly. She took her seat across from Gie, swirling her wine with a satisfied sigh.
"See?" she said, taking a sip. "Civilization isn't so bad."
Gie stabbed a piece of burrata. "Debatable."
Alina rolled her eyes. "You're such a hermit."
"I'm an artist."
"You're obsessed."
Gie smirked. "That too."
They ate in relative peace for a few minutes, enjoying the richness of the food and the crispness of the wine. But when Alina set her fork down and fixed Gie with a mischievous gleam in her eyes, Gie knew something annoying was about to happen.
"So," Alina drawled, "how's the new piece for Alexander Millers coming along?"
Gie didn't look up. "It's fine."
Alina wiggled her brows. "Just fine? Come on, Gie. The man is a walking Greek god. You should be enjoying this commission."
Gie sighed. "I don't work for him. I work with him. He commissions, I create. That's it."
Alina huffed. "You are so boring. Do you even realize how stupidly hot that man is?"
"I've seen his pictures. I'm aware."
"Aware?" Alina gaped. "Gie, that man is the kind of beautiful that ruins women. Dark blond hair, sharp jawline, stormy gray eyes that look like they could read your deepest secrets. And the body—have you seen him in a suit? Or better yet, out of one?"
"Christ, Alina." Gie rubbed her temples. "Do you need a moment alone?"
Her sister cackled. "Shut up. I'm just saying—you should be getting in on that."
Gie shot her a look. "I don't need a man."
"Maybe not, but you could enjoy one."
Gie leaned back, swirling her wine. "No one's ever interested me, and I don't think that's going to change now."
Alina raised a brow. "No one? Ever?"
Gie shrugged. "I've tried. Women, too. Nothing. Turns out I just prefer my art."
Alina sighed dramatically. "You are the most beautiful, unattached woman I know, and yet you refuse to even try romance. How is that fair?"
"I'm happy with my life."
"You could be happier with a ridiculously attractive billionaire spoiling you rotten."
Gie snorted. "You change boys like the seasons. Forgive me if I'm not taking relationship advice from someone who can't keep one longer than a limited edition lipstick drop."
Alina grinned, unbothered. "I like variety. Nothing wrong with sampling the menu."
"Except you never finish the meal."
"Some meals are better as appetizers," Alina shot back.
Gie groaned. "You are impossible."
Alina smirked. "And yet, here you are—still listening."
Gie rolled her eyes, but the edge of her mouth twitched with a smile. "So what do you suggest? I throw myself at Alexander Millers's feet and beg to be his next conquest?"
Alina tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Not beg. Maybe just… fall into his lap in a conveniently sexy way."
Gie gave her a flat stare. "That's not happening."
Alina sighed. "Such wasted potential."
Gie finished the last sip of her wine, ignoring her sister's smug expression.
Alexander Millers was nothing more than a client.
Nothing more.