She Called Me Hers'

Five years later "

It was a Saturday morning, and the West family kitchen smelled like toasted bread and fried eggs. Aria sat by the window with her sketchbook open, watching the birds fight over breadcrumbs outside.

Her mom was humming some old song she didn't recognize, flipping pancakes. Her dad sat at the dining table with a coffee mug in one hand and the newspaper in the other. Across from him, leo was typing furiously on his phone, probably arguing with someone over anime again.

"Egg or toast?" her mom asked.

"Both," Aria replied.

"You'll eat both and still go steal leo's cereal," her dad teased.

"I heard that," Aria said without looking up.

"You were meant to."

This was home now. Simple. Warm. Familiar. Her life had become quiet since graduation. She still painted nearly every day. portraits, emotions, scenes she'd seen only in her dreams. but nothing had taken off yet. No exhibitions. No gallery shows.

Still, her parents supported her. Her dad had turned the garage into a tiny studio with two windows and a paint-splattered table. Her mom bought her sketchbooks every other week, even when they couldn't really afford them.

"You okay?" Leo suddenly asked from across the table.

"I'm fine," Aria said, caught off guard.

"You've been quiet," he replied. "Like… extra quiet."

She shrugged. "Just thinking."

About him. Again.

Even after five years, it still happened. Not every day. But some days hit harder. Days like this, when things felt too peaceful. Too good to be real.

Lucien Gray.

The name echoed like something she wasn't allowed to remember. She hadn't seen him. Hadn't heard from him. No messages. No signs.

She told herself it was for the best.

She needed space. Growth. Time to become someone new.

And she had.

Later That Afternoon

She was back in the garage studio, wiping charcoal from her fingers and fixing the shadows on a girl's face she'd been sketching for hours. The power flickered once, then came back on.

Her laptop dinged.

She ignored it for a second. Then glanced over.

An email sat in bold at the top of her inbox.

Subject: Congratulations you are Selected for the Artspire Residency

From: The Artspire Foundation

Headquarters: Bellwood Heights, New York

Private Funded Art Collective

Her heart skipped.

She clicked.

Dear Aria West,

We're excited to inform you that you've been selected as one of 20 artists for the prestigious Artspire Residency Program.

Your portfolio was reviewed anonymously by our panel, and your work stood out as bold, emotionally raw, and technically remarkable.

This is a fully covered, two-week program at the Bellwood Creative Estate, where you'll live, practice, and prepare for the upcoming New Voices Art Showcase.

All accommodation, travel, meals, and materials will be provided.

You'll also receive private mentoring, networking opportunities with global collectors, and exposure to our exclusive sponsors.

You leave in two weeks. Pack light. Create freely.

Welcome to Artspire.

--Management Team

The Artspire Foundation

She stared at the screen, breath caught in her chest.

"Mom!" she shouted.

"Aria?" her mom called from the kitchen.

Aria rushed in, laptop shaking in her hands. "Read this."

Her mom took the laptop, eyes scanning. "You got in?"

Aria nodded. Her voice cracked. "After two years of submitting and getting rejected, I finally got noticed."

Her dad came over. "What's going on?"

Leo leaned in too. Aria read it aloud this time.

When she finished, the room went quiet.

Then her mom pulled her into a hug. "You did it. This is huge."

Her dad kissed her forehead. "We're proud of you, baby."

Leo just grinned. "Two weeks in a rich people's art castle? You better not come back with rich taste and no common sense."

She laughed. Tried to hold back the tears.

That Night

When the house had gone quiet, Aria lay in bed with her sketchbook beside her and her laptop still open.

She scrolled through the Artspire website.

It was real. It looked expensive. Established. Nothing about it seemed off.

Still, she had a weird feeling. A shiver that crawled over her skin.

She had submitted to Thornecrest Art Residency two years ago. twice, actually.

Both times, silence.

But now?

She was in.

Twenty artists. Fully funded.

Two weeks of training.

And then… the competition of a lifetime.

Her fingers shook as she held the acceptance letter.

After years of rejection…

She was finally seen.

She smiled. She laughed. She hugged her little brother so tight he yelped.

Her dream was happening.

What she didn't know was:

It had nothing to do with her submission.

And everything to do with the man who'd been waiting.

The one who never moved on.

The one who built her future just to step back into it.

He made sure she'd say yes.

Because she wouldn't have… if she knew.

Lucien POV.

They thought the army would break him.

His parents, his commander… even he believed it once.

But he didn't break. He bent. He sharpened. And when he came back, he didn't just return. he took over.

Gray Enterprises had never been cleaner, colder, and more efficient. Within six months, profits tripled. Their competitors started watching. His father called it brilliance. His mother said they were finally proud.

But Lucien didn't care.

They were background noise. Always had been.

He had one goal. One name that never left his chest, even when the training drills nearly split his ribs.

Aria West.

He'd watched her from the sidelines of his own life for years.

Letting her walk away was the only war he'd lost. But not again.

He let her go once to become the man he needed to be.

Now, he was back. And this time, he wouldn't let her run.

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the surveillance screen tucked behind a hidden shelf in his office.

Her laugh echoed through the speakers.

From a gallery camera.

She didn't know she was being watched. not yet.

But she would.

Soon.

Lucien stood. Walked to the window of his penthouse suite that overlooked half the city. The glass reflected his face. sharpened, matured, the edges no longer boyish.

"You'll come to me," he murmured to the glass. "Because I gave you a reason you can't say no to."

And she had said yes.

Of course she had.

The Thornecrest Art Residency had prestige, power, and the illusion of distance.

And it belonged to him.

He didn't sign the papers in his name. He made sure she wouldn't trace it back.

But everything about it… the timing, the offer, the "coincidence" of her selection. it was all him.

Lucien walked to a drawer and pulled out the worn bandana she once tied to his wrist.

He kept it.

He kept everything.

A sketch she threw away. A photo she once folded into a book. Her voice saved in voicemails never played out loud.

This wasn't obsession.

This was inevitability.

His parents wanted him to settle, to marry a woman they picked. He smiled politely, shook hands, pretended to consider.

But his mind was already made up.

Aria.

Even if she hated him now, she was still his.

She'd always been his.

And if someone stood in the way?

Then they simply wouldn't stand for long.

Lucien tucked the bandana back into the drawer, closed it, and walked to the elevator.

It was time.

Time for her to step into the world he built for her.

And time for him to make sure no one else ever touched what was his..