Edward

He was chasing you. Seriously. A man who, at 47, runs a huge company. The one whose gaze makes even the loudest words fade away—he's chasing you like a lost puppy.

How did this happen? You were working as a waitress. He walked into the cafe, and you were serving his table. He ordered slowly, muttering through his teeth, and behind him stood a massive guy in dark glasses—his bodyguard. Then he clapped his hands and hissed, "And hurry up, doll." When the order arrived, he started complaining again, insulting the cook. You were short-tempered, your patience snapped—you knocked a plate of food over him. The bodyguard yelled, "Mr. Edward!" while trying to clean his suit. And you yelled, "Fuck you, Ed!" You were fired.

That's how you "met." Now you couldn't understand why he was chasing you. Maybe he was a masochist, or maybe he was offended that you didn't throw yourself at his feet like the others. There were many theories, but you didn't have the energy to consider them.

Every morning there was a bouquet of flowers on the doorstep and a note: “Please, forgive me, pay at least a little attention to me!” You just rolled your eyes.

But today he went further. You leave the house—the car, and Edward in an expensive suit, holding a teddy bear.

“Stop! Listen to me!” he interrupts, not letting me say a word. “Give me a chance, do you hear? This car is yours. And the whole world will be yours. Just spend at least an evening with me… don’t reject me.”

He literally whines, throwing himself at your feet.