A Vision in the Spotlight
Ezra Raphael Sinclair wasn't easily impressed.
Growing up surrounded by wealth, power, and polished perfection, he had seen it all—luxury at its finest, beauty in every form, and brilliance wrapped in expensive suits and designer dresses. Yet, nothing had ever made him pause. Nothing had ever made his heart race.
Until now.
Standing at the heart of a grand exhibition hall, amidst the gleaming lights and hushed admiration of the elite, he saw her.
Tyla.
She stood at the center of her masterpiece—a breathtaking space she had designed for a high-end European brand. The hall was a fusion of elegance and innovation, a symphony of textures and colors, modern yet timeless. It was art, but the real masterpiece wasn't the exhibition.
It was her.
Dressed in a sleek black ensemble, sharp yet effortlessly alluring, she commanded the room without trying. Her bold red lips curved into a confident smile as she spoke, her voice smooth yet playful. She laughed, she charmed, she owned the space as if the world revolved around her.
Ezra had never met her before. He barely knew anything about her. But in that moment, he knew one thing.
He was completely, utterly doomed.
---
The Pull of a Star
"You're staring," a voice murmured beside him.
Ezra didn't have to turn to know who it was. Xavier Ryan Monroque—his childhood best friend, business ally, and occasional source of unsolicited commentary.
Ezra exhaled, still unable to tear his eyes away. "Who is she?"
Xavier followed his gaze, smirking as he sipped his champagne. "Tyla. Youngest billionaire in the interior world. She's a legend already."
"Tyla…" Ezra echoed, tasting her name.
His heartbeat picked up when she turned, golden-brown eyes scanning the room before landing—briefly—on him. Their gazes locked. Ezra felt it like a spark, a flicker of something dangerous and consuming.
Then she looked away, back to her conversation, utterly unaware of the way she had just unraveled him.
Xavier chuckled. "Careful, Sinclair. That one doesn't fall easily."
Ezra smirked, a challenge glinting in his usually composed eyes. "Good. I wouldn't want her to."
---
First Words, First Sparks
It wasn't enough to admire from afar. Ezra had never been the kind of man to hesitate.
He moved.
Tyla had just finished answering a guest's question when she sensed someone approaching. Without looking, she could already tell they were important. There was a certain energy, a weight in their presence that demanded attention.
She turned.
Ezra Sinclair.
She recognized him, of course. Who wouldn't? A royal-blooded billionaire, actor, singer, and heir to the Sinclair empire. He was famous, yet reclusive—known for his sharp intellect, serious demeanor, and complete disinterest in romance.
He wasn't supposed to be here.
"Ms. Tyla," Ezra said, his voice rich and smooth, like velvet over steel. "Your work is remarkable."
Tyla arched a brow, the corner of her lips curving. "Flattery? You must be new to my exhibitions."
Ezra's lips twitched, amused. "On the contrary, I'm wondering how I never attended one before."
She tilted her head, assessing him. Most men would have already crumbled under her gaze—she was used to being in control, to watching them fumble and grasp for her attention. But Ezra… he was steady. Confident.
Interesting.
"And what does the great Ezra Sinclair find so remarkable?" she mused.
"You," he said without hesitation.
Tyla blinked, caught off guard for half a second before she laughed, shaking her head. "Smooth. Does that line work on everyone?"
"I wouldn't know," Ezra admitted. "I've never used it before."
Tyla narrowed her eyes, intrigued. He was different.
---
The Beginning of the Unraveling
Ezra didn't believe in love at first sight.
But standing there, watching Tyla command the room, challenge him, tease him, he realized—he was already willing to break every rule for her.
Even if she didn't know it yet.
Even if she pushed him away.
Even if it took forever.
Because Ezra Sinclair never gave up on what he wanted.
And right now, he knew—he wanted her.