Chapter 56 First Encounter with Ryan
"It's Ryan, the chief designer at Radiant Charm Jewelry Group. Have you heard of him?" Francis asked, his tone casual, as if it were nothing.
Jennifer's head snapped up, her voice breaking into an excited gasp. "Ryan? He's my favorite designer!"
She'd just read an article about him a few days ago, hoping she might catch a glimpse of him at the upcoming competition. She hadn't expected the chance to come this soon. Throwing the covers aside, she darted toward the walk-in closet.
Francis caught her easily, pulling her back against him. "Where do you think you're going?"
"I need to figure out what to wear," she said gladly. "Is it a dinner party? Is there a theme? A dress code?"
His brows drew together, and he pinched her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You weren't this happy when I gave you gifts. Now you're practically glowing over meeting some old guy. Should I be jealous?"
Jennifer's eyes widened. "No, you've got it all wrong. I admire Ryan—he's my role model. That's completely different. And he's not just ‘some old guy.' He's elegant, refined; calling him that is so disrespectful!" Her voice rose without her realizing it, her admiration momentarily overriding her instinct to stay gentle with Francis.
"I don't care," Francis said flatly, scooping her up and tossing her onto the bed. "You're mine. You don't get to give another man that much attention. Even if he were seventy, I'd still be pissed."
Before she could argue, his mouth was on her, biting at the buttons of her nightshirt.
She tried to protest, but his kisses were relentless, stealing her breath until all she could manage were soft, helpless sounds. Her pajamas slid off the bed in a crumpled heap.
"Can we… turn off the lights?" she whispered, almost pleading. "I'm not used to this."
"No." His voice was low, commanding. "I like seeing everything." He pushed her legs apart, settling between them. "So pink, very cute." His words were shameless, his fingers teasing her nipples until she squirmed, covering her eyes as if that could hide her from the moment.
But there was no hiding from the way he knew her body—every sensitive spot mapped out, every reaction coaxed with precision.
He caught her wrists, pinning them above her head. "Open your eyes, or I'll punish you."
She didn't dare ask what kind of punishment he meant. Her lashes fluttered, and slowly she obeyed.
"Good girl," he murmured, stroking her cheek. "I like you watching me. Especially when I'm inside you. Your eyes should only have me in them."
The night blurred into indulgence. Worse, the next morning was a day off, and she woke to Francis's mouth on hers, his desire already pressing against her. Half-asleep, she let out a startled sound, but soon her body was responding again, swept along by his tireless rhythm.
When the day of Ryan's party arrived, Francis—jealous or not—took it seriously. He sent Jennifer to be styled, knowing her appearance reflected on him.
When they entered together, the reception was warmer than ever. Word had spread that Francis doted on his current girlfriend, and people greeted Jennifer with respectful enthusiasm. She stayed close to him, her smile poised, her words carefully measured.
Across the room, Eugene stood beside Aria. His eyes kept straying toward Jennifer, noting how close she was to Francis—closer than last time, almost pressed against him. Shameless. Leonard's fate was fresh in his mind, a clear warning: stay away from Jennifer, or end up ruined.
Aria chatted happily, oblivious to Eugene's distraction.
Ryan finished speaking with a couple and made his way toward Francis, wine glass in hand. He'd been living in Valdoria for years and was unfamiliar with many faces here; tonight was about reconnecting.
"Francis," he greeted warmly, raising his glass. "Long time no see. You've grown into your own."
"Good evening, Mr. Mitchell." Francis clinked his glass slightly lower—a subtle show of respect. "This is my girlfriend, Jennifer. She's a jewelry designer too, and she admires your work."
Jennifer's smile lit up her face. "Mr. Mitchell, I got into jewelry design because of your piece 'First Love.' The lines were so clean, and the colors so vivid. I really love it."
Ryan's brows lifted. "First Love" was from over a decade ago, rarely mentioned now. Her description was precise, not the empty praise he often heard.
He studied her more closely. Something about her stirred a memory—Skylar. She'd been about Jennifer's age when he met her, though Skylar had been bold and willful, unlike Jennifer's gentle gaze. Skylar was the daughter of a wealthy merchant; he was a struggling nobody. Yet she'd loved him enough to stand in the rain gathering discarded sketches, sharing cheap boxed meals without complaint.
His failure wore on him, breeding insecurity. One fight turned cruel, and she left. He assumed she'd returned to her comfortable life. Years later, after he'd found success, he learned she'd cut ties with her father rather than abort his child. He searched for her everywhere, but she was gone.
"Mr. Mitchell, why are you staring at Ms. Brown?" Aria's voice cut in.
Ryan blinked, pulling himself back to the present. "She mentioned my early designs. It reminded me of the past."
"What story?" Aria asked, curious.
Ryan shook his head. "Better not to mention it. And who's this?" He nodded toward Eugene.
Aria beamed. "Too bad you came back a few days late—you missed my engagement party. This is my fiancé, Eugene. Handsome, right?"
Ryan smiled politely. "A talented young man."
Jennifer stayed quiet, but she'd seen the flicker of sadness in Ryan's eyes. He hadn't let go of that first love. To create work that moved people so deeply, he must have lived through a love story just as unforgettable.