The car arrived precisely on time, the driver's eyes lingering on her as she slid into the backseat. She could feel his appraisal, his curiosity about who she was and why she was going to the Lux Hotel. But she kept her chin high, her posture elegant, refusing to give him anything to gossip about.

The ride was a blur, the tension in her stomach growing with every passing minute. When the car pulled to the hotel, she took another deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. The doorman held the door open, his eyes widening as he took in her outfit. She knew she looked the part but knew that looks could only get you so far in this world.

As she walked through the gleaming lobby, heads turned, whispers following in her wake. She ignored them, focusing solely on the task at hand. She knew Roman would be watching her, his eyes assessing her every move. She had to be perfect; she had to show him that she was worthy of his love and his trust.

When she reached the meeting room, her heart was pounding. She took a moment to compose herself, her hand shaking slightly as she knocked on the door. "Come in," a voice called out, and she stepped inside, her heels clicking against the marble floor.

The room was filled with some of the most influential people in the fashion industry, their eyes on her as she entered. Roman sat at the head of the table, his expression unreadable. She met his gaze, her own filled with determination.

This was it, the moment she had been waiting for. She was going to show them all what she was made of. And as she took her seat beside him, her hand in his, she knew that she had made the right choice. Together, they could conquer the world.

Roman leaned over, whispering in her ear, "You're going to do great, baby." His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt a surge of confidence. She stood before the room, her heart racing but her voice steady.

The look books were spread before her, culminating in months of hard work and passion. She began to speak, her voice clear and confident as she described the inspiration behind each piece, the fabrics, the colors, and how they would move on the runway. She could feel their eyes on her; their skepticism turned to intrigue and admiration.

Roman sent her a series of texts as she talked, each one a secret message of love and encouragement. She stole glances at her phone, his words a silent cheer that fueled her fire. "You're killing it," he wrote, and she couldn't help but smile.

The room was silent as she finished her presentation, the only sound being the faint rustle of pages as they flipped through the look books. Then, applause erupted, sounding like a thunderclap in the quiet room. Roman's hand found hers under the table, his grip firm and reassuring.

The first question came from a well-known editor, her eyes sharp and assessing. "Alyzs," she said, her voice cutting through the crowd's murmur. How do you intend to translate these runway looks to the everyday woman?"

Alyzs didn't miss a beat. "It's all about versatility," she said, her voice smooth and confident. "The key is to find the core elements of each look and adapt them to fit different lifestyles. A dramatic gown can be shortened, a bold print can be paired with neutral separates, and an avant-garde accessory can be toned down with a classic outfit."

The room nodded, the editors and buyers scribbling notes as they digested her words. Another question followed, this time about the inspiration behind her designs. "My home, Saint Lucia," she said, her eyes lighting up. "The vibrant colors, the rich textures, the way the light plays on the ocean... it's all there, in every piece."

Then, the inevitable question came. "Alyzs," a designer in the back row called out. "Who's the mastermind behind the stunning outfit you're wearing today?"

Her cheeks flushed with pride as she turned to Roman. "It's one of my creations," she said, her voice filled with quiet pride. "Roman encouraged me to wear it, and I'm so grateful for his support."

The room buzzed with excitement, the realization that she was not just a pretty face but a talented designer in her own right. They peppered her with questions about the dress, the cut, and the fabric, and she answered each one flawlessly, her confidence growing with every word.

The tension in the room was palpable, the energy electric. She had done it. She had proven herself in the most ruthless arena: the world of high fashion. And as the applause died down, she knew she had earned her place beside Roman, not just as his lover but as his partner in every sense.

Their eyes met across the table, his filled with pride and love. "You're more than I could have ever hoped for," he mouthed, his voice lost in the din.

And in that moment, she knew that she had made the right choice. The future was theirs for the taking, and together.

After the last guest had left and the room had emptied, Roman pulled her into his arms, his eyes shining with pride. "You were incredible," he murmured, his voice low and filled with awe. "They're going to be talking about this for weeks."

Alyzs's heart swelled with joy as she looked up at him, her eyes sparkling. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft. "I couldn't have done it without you."

He kissed her then, a gentle brush of his lips against hers that spoke of love and support. "You did it all on your own," he said, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. "But I'm here to help you soar even higher."

They decided to return to the office, the excitement of the evening still buzzing in the air. As they rode in the elevator, their bodies close together, Roman's hand found hers. "Alyzs," he said, his voice serious. It's time we tell the world about us.

Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes wide with excitement. "Really?"

He nodded, his expression unwavering. "Yes," he said. " You're part of me; everyone should know it."

When they reached the office, the lights were still on, the air thick with the scent of expensive cologne and ambition. Roman led her to his office, his stride confident and sure. Inside, his publicist, Monique, a sharp woman, was waiting for them. She had a plan, a strategy to announce their relationship in a way that would be both tasteful and impactful.

Monique's eyes widened when she saw Alyzs, her gaze taking in the stunning dress and the glow of newfound success surrounding her. "Mademoiselle Dubois," she said, her voice respectful. "You've made quite the impression."

Alyzs blushed, feeling both flattered and a little overwhelmed. "Thank you," she said, her voice small.

"Don't be shy," Roman said, his hand squeezing hers. "You're about to become the most talked-about woman in fashion."

The meeting was a whirlwind of ideas and strategies, Monique laying out a timeline for the announcement, the press releases, and the interviews. Alyzs listened, her mind racing as she tried to keep up. But Roman was there, his hand on her back, his voice calm and reassuring.

"We'll start with a joint statement," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "And then we'll take it from there."

Alyzs nodded, her heart racing. The thought of their relationship being out in the open was both thrilling and terrifying. But she knew that she could face anything with Roman by her side.

The next few days were a blur of activity, the anticipation building with every passing hour. They prepared for the announcement with the same meticulous care they put into their designs, every detail accounted for.

Finally, the day arrived. They stood before the cameras, their bodies tense with excitement. Roman took a deep breath, his eyes on hers. "Alyzs," he said, his voice strong and steady. "I'm so proud to introduce you as my partner, both in business and life."

The flashes went off, the cameras clicking in a cacophony of sound. Alyzs's heart was racing, but she knew she had never felt more alive. She was ready for this, prepared to face the world with the man she loved.

Their relationship wasn't a secret; it was no longer a guilty pleasure stolen in the shadows. It was out in the open, a beacon of love and strength in a cold and unforgiving world.

Roman took Alyzs back to his penthouse, his heart swelling with pride as he held her hand tightly in his own. The paparazzi had caught wind of their newfound openness and were camped out in front of his building, their cameras at the ready. He could see the flashes through the car's tinted windows as they pulled up, the clamor of their voices like a siren's call.

"Remember," he said, his voice low and intense. "Look confident, smile, and move gracefully." He handed her a pair of sleek, black sunglasses. "These will help."

Alyzs took a deep breath, her eyes meeting his in the window's reflection. She slipped on her glasses, feeling the weight of his words and the world's gaze upon her. She had never been one to shy away from a challenge, and this was the biggest one yet.

As they exited the car, the flashes went off like a thousand tiny suns. Roman shielded her with his body, his hand firm on the small of her back as they moved towards the building. She held her head high, her smile radiant as she walked, the clack of her heels echoing through the night.

The photographers shouted questions, but she remained poised, her eyes locked on the lobby doors. Roman could feel the excitement in her, the thrill of the moment. He knew she was made for this, that she was a star in the making.

Once inside, the chaos of the outside world was muffled by the thick carpets and marble walls. He turned to her, his own smile wide. "Welcome to the real world," he said, his voice teasing.

Alyzs laughed, the sound like music to his ears. "I've been ready for this," she said, her confidence unshaken. "Let's go upstairs."

The elevator ride was filled with the electricity of their shared victory. Roman couldn't keep his hands off her, and his kisses lit a fire down her neck. She leaned into him, her body responding to his touch with an eagerness that made his blood race.

When they finally stepped into the penthouse, the smell hit her like a wave from the Caribbean. It was a scent that brought back a flood of memories - coconut milk, thyme, and a hint of something spicy that could only be allspice. "Is that...?" she began, her voice trailing off as she sniffed the air.

Roman nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "Marcel, my personal chef, made a special dish for you tonight," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's a Saint Lucian classic, something I know you'll love."

Alyzs's eyes filled with tears as she took in the sight before her. The dining table was set with fine china and crystal, and a bouquet of tropical flowers was in the center. The room was bathed in a warm, golden light, the candles flickering in the soft breeze that drifted in from the balcony. And there, on a silver platter, was a steaming plate of her favorite childhood meal: breadfruit and saltfish with a side of green fig salad.

Her heart swelled with emotion as she took in the gesture. Roman had gone to such lengths to make her feel at home, to remind her of her roots amidst the glamour of their new life together. It contrasted the cold, sterile environments she had grown accustomed to in the fashion world.

They sat down to eat, and their silence filled with a newfound intimacy. She took a bite, the flavors exploding on her tongue, transporting her back to her youth's warm, humid nights. The breadfruit was tender, the saltfish flaky and flavorful, just as her grandmother had made it. The green fig salad was a perfect balance of sweet and tart, and the crunch of the vegetables was a delightful surprise with each mouthful.

They talked about their day, their hopes, and their fears. Roman listened intently, his eyes never leaving hers as she spoke. He was her rock, her sanctuary in a world that often felt like a storm.

After dinner, they moved to the living room, the soft notes of a jazz tune playing in the background. Roman poured them both a glass of wine.

"Alyzs, let me take care of you," he said, taking her hand and leading her to the plush couch. She sat down with a contented sigh, her feet aching from the day's events. Without a moment's hesitation, he knelt before her, his strong hands gently removing her shoes. He took one foot in his hands, his thumbs massaging the arch with a firm pressure that had her eyes rolling back in her head.

"Roman," she moaned, leaning back into the cushions. "Your hands are heavenly."

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I may love your feet more than I love orgasms," he confessed as he kissed them softly, his voice low and teasing.

Alyzs's cheeks flushed, but she couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up from her chest. "That's quite a statement," she said, her voice light.

He took her other foot, his touch growing more insistent as he worked his way up to her toes. "They're so perfect," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "Soft and delicate, yet strong enough to hold you up through anything."

Her laughter subsided as the tension in her body melted away under his touch. She had never felt more cherished, more desired. He kissed the top of her foot, his lips lingering for a moment before he began to massage her toes, one by one. She could feel the knots in her muscles loosening, the day's stress slipping away.

"I can't believe how much I missed this," she whispered. "This simple act of kindness means more than you know."

He looked up at her, his eyes filled with affection. "You deserve it," he said, his voice earnest. "You're going to change the fashion world, and I'm going to be right beside you every step of the way."

The words sent a warmth through her, a warmth that had nothing to do with the wine or the massage. It was the warmth of his love, the knowledge that she had someone who believed in her, who would support her no matter what.

The last of her tension dissipated as he worked his magic on her feet. When he was done, she leaned down to kiss him, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you," she murmured against his lips. "For everything."

Weeks had passed since her debut amongst the fashion elite, and despite the excitement of their newfound public relationship, Alyzs still had yet to move in with Roman. Her apartment remained her sanctuary, a place where she could retreat to when the world felt too much. But tonight, as they lay in his bed, the question hung like a fine mist.

"Alyzs," Roman began, his voice tentative. "It's been weeks now. Why haven't you moved in with me?"

Her heart skipped a beat. She had been avoiding this conversation, unsure of what to say. "I... I don't know," she stammered. "It's just... this place feels like home."

He studied her for a moment, his gaze intense. "But what if I could give you something more?" he asked, his voice low and seductive. "What if I could give you a home that's truly yours?"

Her eyes widened as he continued. "I want you to design your own penthouse," he said, his voice filled with excitement. It's right across the street from here. I'll take care of everything—the renovations, the furniture, the art. All you have to do is make it your own."

Alyzs was speechless. The idea was ludicrous and extravagant but also incredibly tempting. It was a place where she could truly express herself and create without the shadow of his wealth and power looming over her. "You're serious?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "I am," he said. "I want you to have your own space and place to call home. And when you're ready, we can be together in a way that's just as incredible as we are."

The offer was more than she could have ever imagined, a gesture that spoke of his understanding and respect for her independence. "I... I don't know what to say," she murmured.

Roman leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "Say yes," he whispered. "Let's do this together."

The proposal hung in the air, the silence stretching between them like a tightrope. Alyzs's mind raced, a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. But as she looked into his eyes, she knew she couldn't refuse. "Okay," she said, her voice shaking with excitement. "Let's do it."

Their kiss was filled with promise and excitement, sealing their future together. Roman's hands traced the curves of her body, his touch a silent reassurance that he was there for her, no matter what. As they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, she allowed herself to dream of a life more than she had ever dared to hope for.