The air in Los Angeles felt different — thick with sunshine, the scent of jasmine and ocean breeze drifting through the warm morning. The city moved around her in golden waves — palm trees swaying, people hurrying with purpose, dreams tucked in briefcases or balanced in coffee cups.
She is DAPHNE BELL, stepped onto the pavement, the wheel of her suitcase rolling beside her, unnoticed. Her heart was louder than the city.
This wasn't just a move to another country. It was a rebirth.
A quiet dream, stitched together over years of wishing and waiting, now unfolding under this very sky. She wasn't here just for the job, or for the chance to live in a postcard-perfect city. She was here for something… more.
She was here for him.
OMAL BLACK.
The boy whose voice had once traveled oceans in Zoom calls and company emails. The one who had never looked at her the way she looked at him — quietly, fully, like he was already part of her story.
She remembered every glimpse of him through screens — his laugh muted by microphones, his eyes pixelated but unforgettable. She remembered how her chest would tighten when he appeared on a virtual meeting, how his name sounded like a secret she wasn't allowed to say out loud.
Now, she was in his city. In his orbit.
And soon, in his office.
The LA branch of the company stood like a glass castle on the edge of Wilshire Boulevard — tall, proud, and full of windows that caught the morning sun just right. As she walked into the building, nerves danced along her spine. The lobby smelled of fresh coffee and ambition. Polished marble floors stretched endlessly ahead, reflecting her image — a girl caught between bravery and fear, chasing something she never said out loud.
Her reflection surprised her. She looked like she belonged here.
Her soft brown-blonde hair was freshly trimmed, catching light as it swayed around her shoulders. Her fair skin glowed from days of careful skincare and restless anticipation. She had chosen her outfit carefully — elegant, soft, and just enough to feel like armor.
People had always told her she looked younger than her age — maybe it was her soft voice, round cheeks, or the spark in her eyes that hadn't yet been dulled by disappointment. But inside, she was older than she seemed. Wiser. She had loved quietly, longed patiently, and now she was finally stepping into her dream.
And then —
he appeared.
Omal.
He stood near the reception desk, talking to a colleague with his phone in one hand and his other tucked into the pocket of his tailored pants. He was taller than she remembered — or maybe it just felt that way now. Six feet of calm confidence, wrapped in simple elegance. A white shirt, sleeves casually rolled. Navy pants that framed his lean figure perfectly.
His skin, fair with a soft yellow undertone, looked warm under the California sun pouring through the glass walls. His jet-black curls were neatly trimmed, not a strand out of place. The beard he wore was light but defined, adding a quiet maturity to his otherwise youthful face.
But it was his eyes that stopped everything.
Hazel. Luminous. Deep.
Framed with thick, soft lashes that made them look like a painting — unreal. They were eyes that had once looked into a camera without seeing her, and now they were only a few feet away.
He looked at her then. Just for a second. A polite glance.
A nod.
"Welcome Daphne," he said, in a voice she'd heard only in company meetings — soft, young, warm like a familiar song played at a lower volume. There was a small smile on his lips, professional and kind.
She smiled back — or tried to. Her dimples betrayed her nervousness.
"Thank you Omal" she whispered, barely.
And just like that, he was gone — disappearing down the hall with his usual grace, a paper cup in one hand, her heartbeat in the other.
He didn't know.
He didn't know that the girl with the quiet smile and hopeful eyes had crossed oceans for something more than a job.
He didn't know that he had been the star in her silent sky for years.
He didn't know… that the heir to the company was also the heir to her heart.
But maybe one day, he would.