Chapter 51: She was his
Nicholas couldn’t sit still.
He’d already checked his watch for the fifth time in two minutes, pacing the length of the penthouse living room like a man waiting for news that might change the course of his entire life.
"Sir," his assistant offered gently, peeking around the corner, "she’s still with the stylist team. They said they’re almost done."
"I’m not nervous," Nicholas muttered, adjusting the cuff of his tuxedo jacket for no reason at all. "I just—don’t like waiting."
The assistant wisely excused herself before he could ask her to check again.
Nicholas raked a hand through his hair, exhaling a sharp breath. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the stylists. He did. He’d hand-picked them—only the best. But part of him had been imagining this moment all day. The moment he saw her. Not Ella in her usual oversized sweaters or tired jeans. But her—the version of her no one had seen yet. The version he suspected had always been there, just quietly hidden beneath layers of practicality and survival.
He turned toward the hallway at the sound of soft footsteps. Then, a voice floated in:
"Ready?"
His heart skipped.
And then she stepped out.
Nicholas froze.