Chapter 6 - Episode 6 and 7 the vose invitation

💔 OWNED BY A COLD heart

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📖 Episode 6 & 7 – The Voss Invitation

The air in the Voss estate still smelled faintly of rosewood and jasmine after Celeste Easton had left.

Vanessa Voss stood by her tall arched window, the hem of her silk robe brushing the marble floor as she stared into the late afternoon light. A silver tray of untouched tea rested behind her, and yet her mind wasn't on tea.

It was on a girl.

Celeste.

So graceful. So composed. So calculated.

Just like Isobel.

Vanessa let out a quiet breath. She hadn't seen Isobel Easton in years — not since the days when grand parties, whispered secrets, and velvet gloves had defined their youth. And now their children were grown. Powerful. Next in line.

And maybe... it was time to align the empires.

Vanessa reached for her phone. With elegant fingers, she dialed the number she knew by heart.

It rang once.

Twice.

Then—

"Mother."

The voice on the other end was low, smooth, and cold as winter.

Vanessa's lips curled faintly. "Still no warmth in your tone, Damian?"

A pause. "That depends on the reason for your call."

She chuckled softly. "Can't a mother call her son just to hear his voice?"

Another silence. Then: "Not in our family."

"Fair," she replied smoothly. "Still… I want to see you. Come by the house tomorrow. Early evening."

"Is this about business?"

"No," Vanessa said, her voice silk and smoke. "This is about legacy."

Damian didn't respond right away.

Then, with the kind of resignation only she could draw from him, he muttered, "Fine. I'll be there at six."

The line went dead.

Vanessa stood there a moment longer, her expression unreadable.

She whispered to herself, "Let's see if your heart is as cold as they say… or just carefully caged."

---

🏫 Meanwhile... at School

Liana stood by her locker, half-listening to the buzz of chatter around her.

Jayda leaned in close. "Okay, I've decided. You need to do something fun this weekend."

Liana blinked. "Fun?"

"Yes. As in, not working. Not sulking. Something that involves daylight and joy."

Liana gave a tiny smile. "I have to cover shifts, Jay. You know I—"

Jayda interrupted, "Girl, life isn't a survival game. You've been walking around like a ghost. What's going on with you lately?"

Liana hesitated.

Then slowly said, "I feel like I'm standing at the edge of something. And I can't tell if it's a cliff… or a beginning."

Jayda raised an eyebrow. "That's poetic. But also kinda scary."

"It feels scary."

The school bell rang.

As they walked to class, Liana didn't say much more.

But in her pocket — that black card still lived.

Heavy.

Unspoken.

Unanswered.

---

🌙 That Night…

At the Easton residence, Celeste twirled a wine glass in her fingers while her father read a file in silence.

"Did she like me?" she asked casually.

Silas didn't look up. "She did."

"And Damian?"

"He doesn't like anyone, Celeste. That's his flaw. Or his power."

Celeste smiled slowly. "Then I'll become the exception."

Her mother, Isobel, walked in just in time to hear that.

"Be careful what you chase, darling," she said. "Some men are frozen for a reason."

Celeste sipped her wine, eyes glittering with certainty. "Even ice can melt."

CAFÉ☕

---

The clock behind the café counter ticked louder than usual. The rush hour had ended, and most of the tables were empty — except for the corner booth where a couple whispered over cold coffee and the barista lazily wiped a mug for the third time.

Liana stood behind the staff door, tying her apron, her mind still wandering.

Her ankle had mostly healed. But the strange throb in her chest hadn't.

Before she could spiral too far, her boss — Mr. Callen, with his crooked tie and ever-barking voice — clapped his hands loudly from the hallway.

"Everyone! Gather up. Now!"

The workers trickled out: tired waitresses, yawning dish guys, and Liana, who wiped her hands and joined the small crowd around him.

Mr. Callen cleared his throat dramatically.

"We've got a one-night gig. Big. Rich. Private."

He paused for effect. "The Voss family. Tonight."

Liana's head snapped up.

"What?" someone whispered. "The Voss family?"

"Yep," Callen said. "The mother — Vanessa Voss herself — reached out to the agency and specifically requested our catering branch. They're hosting a private evening event. Formal. Classy. High stakes."

He glanced around with narrowed eyes.

"That means no mistakes. No broken plates. No weird attitudes. And no personal questions — especially about him." His voice dropped slightly. "Yes. He'll probably be there."

Liana's stomach flipped.

She didn't need to ask who he meant.

She could still feel the ghost of hot coffee running down her hands… and the chill in his eyes.

Mr. Callen continued, "Black uniforms only. Hair tied. Phones off. We meet at 6 p.m. sharp for prep. Transport provided. You represent my café — so act like professionals."

As the staff murmured and scattered, Liana stayed frozen for a second too long.

Jayda, who had taken a part-time gig at the café just for the free leftovers, nudged her elbow. "Girl. This can't be real. That same Voss? The one you spilled coffee on?"

Liana nodded slowly.

Jayda widened her eyes. "Fate's got jokes."

"I can't go," Liana whispered.

"You have to go," Jayda said. "The universe is doing something here. You don't just 'accidentally' keep crossing paths with a billionaire unless destiny is plotting something insane."

Liana chewed her lip. Her hands were trembling again.

"What if he recognizes me?"

"Then hold the tray tighter and pretend you don't recognize him."

Liana exhaled deeply.

Maybe it was coincidence.

Maybe it was punishment.

Or maybe… the door to something bigger had just cracked open.

---

🌆 Meanwhile, at the Voss Mansion…

Vanessa stood at the top of the staircase, instructing staff on place settings, wine pairings, and string quartet placements. She moved like a queen arranging a throne room.

Everything had to be perfect.

Tonight wasn't just dinner.

Tonight was a presentation.

And her son, Damian, would be walking into the lion's den — with Celeste Easton already waiting in the silk shadows.

Vanessa touched the pearls at her throat, watching the chandeliers glimmer to life.

---

📖 ✨

The black van pulled into the curved driveway of the Voss estate with the quiet obedience of something that didn't belong. Inside, trays clinked, shoes were adjusted, and staff whispered last-minute nerves to themselves.

Liana sat still in the third row, dressed in black. Her apron was ironed, hair tied back neatly, and her heartbeat was a steady drum in her chest.

It was the kind of house you didn't see in real life—only in movies or dreams. Marble pillars, endless glass, and lanterns glowing softly against the dusk. Music spilled faintly from somewhere inside—piano notes, drifting like perfume.

This was another world.

She wasn't supposed to be in it.

The moment she stepped out, cool air wrapped around her. She kept her head down, following the others. They were ushered in through a staff corridor, narrow and quiet, and into a pristine kitchen that gleamed like a museum.

"Alright," Mr. Callen whispered as he clapped. "We stay invisible, we serve without question, and we don't speak unless spoken to. Understand?"

Liana nodded.

Even though nothing inside her felt calm.

---

✨ Upstairs...

Celeste stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her earrings—gold, delicate, shaped like falling leaves.

Her dress was black velvet with a slit that was exactly inappropriate, and her lips were painted the same red that made men ruin reputations.

Behind her, her mother Isobel sipped white wine slowly.

"You look expensive," she said simply.

Celeste smirked. "Good. He should know I'm worth ruining his peace for."

Isobel raised an eyebrow. "You forget—Vanessa Voss doesn't want her son with a woman. She wants him with a dynasty."

Celeste turned, her smile sharp. "Then I'll be both."

---

💼 6:55 p.m. – The Drawing Room

The guests were elite. Politicians, board members, international investors. But they didn't matter. Not really.

All eyes were waiting for one man.

And when Damian Voss finally walked in, the air itself paused.

Tailored black suit. No tie. His presence silenced laughter. His silence demanded attention.

He greeted no one at first. He simply nodded once at his mother, then scanned the room like it was a battlefield.

From behind a pillar, Celeste stepped forward.

"Evening," she purred, holding two glasses of champagne.

Damian didn't take one.

"You again."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"I say that like it's a fact."

Celeste leaned in slightly. "You don't like people, Damian. That's your problem. You can't control people who don't fear you."

"I don't like distractions."

Celeste's eyes narrowed. "Well, too bad. I don't plan to go away."

---

🥀 In the ballroom...

Liana moved through the guests like air. Silent, trained, unseen.

Until she entered the main hall with a tray of wine glasses—and paused.

He was there.

At the far end of the room, tall, stoic, brutal in his elegance.

Damian.

Her hands trembled for a second. She looked away quickly, keeping her head down, her footsteps soft. But it was too late.

He saw her.

He didn't react.

Not with words. Not with a gesture.

But his eyes followed her.

Like recognition. Like challenge. Like fire frozen in place.

Liana set the tray on the bar with careful precision and backed away—straight into a server.

A glass tipped, fell, and shattered on the floor.

The music didn't stop. But Liana froze.

Before she could move, a voice echoed behind her—cool, controlled.

"Let her clean it up herself."

She turned.

It was him.

Damian.

Speaking directly to the head server—his eyes never leaving hers.

Not angry.

Not amused.

Just... watching.

Like she was a question.

Like she was an interruption he hadn't planned for.

Liana's breath caught in her throat.

She knelt to clean the glass, heart racing.

When she stood, he was gone.

But that didn't matter.

🙍🏼‍♀️

___

The evening flowed on—wine poured, strings played, and laughter floated beneath glistening chandeliers.

But for Liana, time was moving in fragments.

She clutched the tray tighter, every step carefully measured as she moved through the golden-lit ballroom. Her black uniform felt tighter now, her breath caught somewhere between her throat and her ribs.

She didn't belong here.

And yet… she was here.

She turned, one step at a time—then suddenly—

Splash.

A cold, sticky wave of red juice splattered across soft black velvet.

It took her half a second to realize what had happened.

Her hand had tilted the tray just enough… the glass had slipped… and the crimson liquid had found the worst possible target.

Celeste Easton.

The entire moment stretched like slow-motion film.

Celeste gasped aloud—her body flinching backward, her dress now ruined in the center of the room.

Liana's lips parted. "I— I'm so sorry—"

Smack.

The slap came without hesitation.

It landed hard against Liana's cheek, the sound sharp and echoing louder than the violins still playing.

Gasps fluttered around them.

Liana stumbled slightly, her face burning, but she didn't cry.

She couldn't. Not in this place.

The room tensed.

Celeste stood there, chest rising and falling, her fingers still curled from the hit… until her expression changed.

Something in her eyes wavered.

She was staring at Liana now—not with anger, not even shame.

With confusion.

Like she was looking at a mirror from another life.

Her eyes scanned Liana's face, slowly… carefully…

The shape of her jaw.

Her nose.

Her eyes.

Her anger faltered.

She blinked once. Then again. Her lips parted as if to ask a question—but no words came.

Liana, still stunned, stepped back.

"Celeste?" Isobel's voice called softly from the crowd, concerned.

But Celeste didn't respond.

She took one more breath—then straightened her spine, her voice cold again.

"Take her out of here."

Liana turned quietly, her cheek still burning, her chest full of questions she couldn't answer.

She followed the servant's corridor, silent, holding back everything inside her.

Behind her, Celeste remained frozen in place.

Because for a moment…

she saw herself.

In the face of a girl she had never met.

And she didn't know why.

Not yet.

But something had changed.

Forever.

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