Invisible to My First Love by Lypstical Novel

BLUEPRINT 119 Summary Harper arrives in Paris after a long flight and is greeted by a chauffeur who takes her to a limousine. Despite trying to suppress her emotions and push away Grayson's earlier words, she feels a mix of anticipation and nostalgia as she nears the restaurant Uncle Sebastian recommended, hoping to reunite with Maddox. The familiar gesture of Maddox opening the car door is now replaced by the chauffeur, stirring a strange feeling in her.

Inside the restaurant, Harper is struck by the romantic and empty setting: a room decorated with red rose petals, candlelight, and a single table set for two. Maddox, dressed in a beige suit, stands silently by the window holding a bouquet of roses while pianist Clara Edevane plays softly. Maddox initially greets Harper coldly, signaling her not to come closer, but then playfully hides behind the flowers, making Harper smile and rekindling warmth between them. Maddox offers Harper the bouquet, which includes roses and exquisite chocolates, and compliments her stunning appearance in red.

He reveals that the entire restaurant is reserved just for them, emphasizing the special nature of their meeting. Maddox then presents Harper with a wrapped gift-a painting of her face that he proudly claims as his own creation, showing the depth of his feelings and the time he spent perfecting it. As their reunion continues, Maddox expresses how much he has thought about Harper, and she senses the importance of the moment. She asks him to listen before speaking, highlighting the mix of affection, longing, and unspoken emotions between them, setting the stage for a meaningful conversation.

BLUEPRINT 119 Summary Harper arrives in Paris after a long flight, greeted by a chauffeur who escorts her to a limousine. Despite her efforts to suppress her emotions and ignore Grayson's earlier words, she feels a mix of anticipation and nostalgia as she approaches the restaurant recommended by Uncle Sebastian, hoping to reunite with Maddox. The familiar ritual of Maddox opening the car door for her is replaced by the chauffeur's actions, stirring a strange sensation within her.

Inside the restaurant, Harper is struck by the emptiness and the romantic setup: a room adorned with red rose petals, candlelight, and a single table set for two. Maddox, dressed in a beige suit, stands silently by the window with a bouquet of roses, while renowned pianist Clara Edevane plays softly in the background. Maddox's initial coldness surprises Harper, but his playful gesture of hiding behind the flowers soon brings a smile to her face, rekindling the warmth between them.

Maddox offers Harper the bouquet, which contains beautiful roses and exquisite chocolates, and compliments her stunning appearance in red. He reveals that the entire restaurant space is reserved exclusively for them, emphasizing the special nature of their meeting. As they share a tender moment, Maddox presents Harper with a wrapped gift-a painting of her face, which he proudly claims as his own creation. His words reveal the depth of his feelings and the time he invested in capturing her likeness perfectly.

The chapter ends with Maddox expressing how much he has thought about Harper, and Harper, sensing the importance of the moment, asks him to listen before speaking. The reunion is filled with a mixture of affection, longing, and unspoken emotions, setting the stage for a meaningful conversation between them. Chapter 119 Harper As the private jet touched down in Paris, a chauffeur dressed impeccably in a classic black and white suit awaited me, greeting me warmly with a polite smile. He promptly guided me toward the sleek limousine parked just a few steps away from the aircraft.

I had been confined to that flight for so many hours that I managed to keep my emotions tightly controlled, consciously pushing Grayson's earlier words to the farthest corner of my mind. I wasn't ready to let them disturb me just yet. The limousine slowed to a stop outside a restaurant shortly after 7 PM. I smiled softly as I glanced at the restaurant's name, elegantly scripted in a graceful font. It was the very place Uncle Sebastian had recommended-a reassuring sign that I was one step closer to finally seeing Maddox again.

When the chauffeur opened the door for me, a strange sensation washed over me. Maddox had always been the one to do this. If there had been an occasion when he didn't, it was fewer than two times. I had grown so accustomed to the ritual: him opening the door, extending his hand, and me taking it without a second thought. By the end of tonight, I hoped with all my heart that things could return to the way they were-that I would once again experience the simple joy of him opening the car door for me. The chauffeur led me inside, and the first thing that struck me was the emptiness of the lobby.

It felt almost deserted, as if no one was coming or going. The quietness added an odd weight to the atmosphere. Turning the corner toward the main dining area, I found myself halted in awe. The glass doors separated me from Maddox, but the sight beyond them stopped me cold. The floor of the room was lavishly covered in red rose petals, their rich color glowing under the soft candlelight placed strategically in the corners. In the center stood a single round table, modest in size, with just two chairs set opposite each other.

From where I stood, that was all I could see, and though the scene was breathtaking, my heart ached to actually see Maddox. Sliding the glass doors open, I stepped inside, my eyes immediately searching to the left. There he was, dressed in a beige suit whose subtle tones perfectly matched his blond hair. He was staring out of the large window, utterly still, not even flinching when the door opened. Beside him rested a small table, adorned with a large bouquet of red roses. In the far left corner, a pianist was seated at a grand piano.

It was Clara Edevane-one of the most renowned pianists in the world. While I was momentarily mesmerized by her presence and the delicate music flowing from her fingers, my focus remained fixed on Maddox. I longed for him to turn around, to finally meet my gaze. It had been two long weeks since I last saw that handsome face. "Hey," I whispered softly as I approached him. He didn't respond or look back but raised a hand in a silent gesture, signaling me not to come any closer. I stopped immediately. Even Clara shifted the melody, playing something more suspenseful to suit the mood.

Despite his coldness, I wasn't upset. Instead, I found myself amused by what he did next. Without hesitation, Maddox lifted the bouquet, holding it up to conceal his face. Then, slowly, he turned to face me, still hiding behind the flowers as if he wasn't quite ready to reveal himself. The sight made me giggle quietly. I knew it was only a matter of moments before he would show me his face fully-he was already moving closer. When he finally stopped in front of me, I waited patiently, but he stubbornly kept the bouquet in place, obscuring his face.

Growing slightly impatient, I gently rested my hand atop the flowers and pushed them downward. I expected resistance, but instead, he relaxed, allowing me to guide the bouquet down. Our eyes met as the roses lowered to reveal his entire face-and there it was, that familiar smirk I loved so much. "These," he said, holding the bouquet out toward me, "are definitely not for me." He pressed the flowers softly against my chest, and I took them gratefully, inhaling the sweet fragrance with closed eyes. Clara's music shifted again, this time playing something tender and romantic.

When I opened my eyes, I noticed nestled among the roses some of the most exquisite chocolates I had ever seen. My eyes widened in surprise. "They're beautiful!" I exclaimed, my smile radiant. "The roses or the chocolates?" Maddox teased, raising an eyebrow as he adjusted his bow tie. My grin grew even wider. "Both... thank you." "There's plenty more where that came from. Now..." He trailed off, gently taking the bouquet from me and lifting my hand. "Show me." I followed his lead as he spun me around lightly. When I faced him again, he didn't immediately meet my eyes.

Instead, his gaze roamed appreciatively over my curves. "When you look this stunning in red, it's no wonder you outshine every rose in this room." His compliment made me blush, and I covered my mouth with a soft laugh. "Stop it." "It's the truth." He bit his lower lip. "Just look around this room, and then look at you." "Speaking of this room," I said, curiosity getting the better of me, "isn't this the restaurant?" "Yeah," he replied, leading me to the table in the center while holding my hand firmly. "No one else is allowed to dine here tonight. This space is ours for as long as we want.

I made sure of that." I could only imagine the amount he must have spent to arrange such exclusivity. When he pulled out a chair for me, I sat down, expecting him to take the seat opposite me. Instead, he walked over to Clara Edevane, and I wondered what he was up to now. He moved to the back of the piano, picked up a flat, rectangular object wrapped neatly in paper, and made his way back to the table. My curiosity peaked, and I craned my neck, hoping to catch a glimpse of what he was holding. He sat down first, placing the mysterious package on the table. "Open it," he said with a flourish.

I took a few moments to unwrap the gift, all the while feeling his eyes on me, watching eagerly for my reaction. When I finally revealed the contents-a painting of my face-I gasped loudly, startled enough that I might have swallowed a bug if one had been nearby. "You... you made this?" I stammered, eyes flicking between him and the portrait. "Yup." He leaned back confidently in his chair. "I love it!" I exclaimed. As I lifted it to place it beside my chair on the floor, he quickly grabbed the other side, pulling it back. "I never said it was yours," he said with a sly smirk.

"Wha-why?" I asked, confused. "I just wanted to show you what's mine." He set the painting down beside his chair, then picked it up again, tracing the lips in the portrait with his fingertips. "When you're as good as me, you can create something like this and hang it wherever you want. This is mine to keep. You have no idea how long it took to get it just right. I wanted it to be perfect. And now that I see you, it was absolutely worth it. There hasn't been a single day when I haven't thought about you." He rested his hand on the table, waiting for me to take it.

Without hesitation, I placed my hand in his. "I know you have a lot to say," I began before he could speak again, "but first, I need you to listen to me." Sara Lili Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland's breathtaking cold.