Mordred clenched his jaw and forced himself to look away from Nevaeh. He knew better than to act on impulse.
If he approached her, if he showed even a sliver of interest, rumors would spread like wildfire. His life was too public, too scrutinized, and he wasn't ready to deal with the storm that would follow.
So he stayed put, acting as if he wasn't watching her.
But then, something unexpected happened.
Nevaeh noticed him.
Not in the way others did—not with admiration, lust, or curiosity about his fame. She just… noticed. Like she would any other person standing alone in a crowded room.
After finishing her interview, she walked over to him, her steps casual, unfazed by his presence.
"Hey," she said simply, stopping a few feet away.
Mordred blinked.
No Mr. Mordred. No awkward fangirling. No nervous hesitation. Just hey.
He straightened slightly. "Hey."
"You okay?" she asked, tilting her head. "You look kind of out of it."
Mordred hesitated. People rarely asked if he was okay. They assumed he was—after all, he was rich, famous, and adored by millions. What could possibly be wrong?
But Nevaeh asked. And from the way she looked at him, she actually wanted an answer.
"I'm fine," he said automatically.
She raised an eyebrow as if she didn't quite believe him, but she didn't push. Instead, she nodded and shifted her bag on her shoulder.
"Alright. Just checking," she said. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away.
Mordred stared after her.
That was it? No attempt to impress him? No effort to prolong the conversation? No lingering glances?
She had just checked on him and left.
And somehow, that made her even more intriguing.
After this unexpected moments , Mordred decided to go visit his best friend Jayden who's a model and owns his own brand to calm himself down ...And ask him a question which he felt his own feelings were betraying him for ...
Because for the first time in his life , he wanted more from a journalist.
Mordred sat in the sleek, modern loft of his long-time friend, Jayden. The place smelled of expensive cologne and leather, with racks of designer clothes lined up against the walls. Models came and went like the wind, flashing bright smiles and fake affection, but Mordred barely noticed them. His mind was somewhere else.
Or rather, on someone else.
Jayden, dressed in a casual silk shirt and loose jeans, leaned back against the couch, sipping his drink. He had always been the confident type—the kind of man who took what he wanted without hesitation. Women adored him, and he adored them right back.
"So, let me get this straight," Jayden said, smirking as he swirled the ice in his glass. "You're asking me if it's normal to want more of a journalist? Of all people?"
Mordred sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know, man. It's weird."
Jayden chuckled. "Weird? That's the understatement of the century. You're you, Mordred. You have supermodels and actresses throwing themselves at you daily, and the one girl who finally catches your attention is some random reporter?"
"She's not random," Mordred muttered.
Jayden's smirk widened. "Oh? So, what is she, then?"
Mordred opened his mouth but hesitated. What was she?
Someone different. Someone who didn't look at him like he was a trophy to be won. Someone who saw him as a person before anything else.
"I don't know," he admitted, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "I just know that when she's around, I want more of her. I don't know why, but I do. Is that normal?"
Jayden studied him for a moment before shaking his head with a grin. "Nah, man. That's not normal. That's attraction."
Mordred frowned. "Attraction?"
Jayden laughed. "What, did you think you were immune to it? Bro, you've been living like some untouchable god for too long. You finally find a girl who doesn't worship the ground you walk on, and now you're hooked."
Mordred scoffed. "It's not like that."
Jayden shrugged. "Sure, keep telling yourself that. But let me warn you—if you don't figure out what you want from her soon, someone else will."
Mordred went quiet.
Jayden had a point.
And for the first time in his life, he wasn't sure what to do about it.