Ordered To Remember Her
1379 Words
Adrian
Adrian Black did not chase women.
He had never needed to.
If someone wanted him, they found a way into his orbit. If they didn’t, he respected the distance. Desire had always been something that came easily to him—simple, uncomplicated, and disposable.
Mila Torres was none of those things.
She had walked away from him.
Not dramatically. Not angrily.
Just… quietly.
Like he was ordinary.
The thought scraped against something raw inside his chest.
He returned to Blackspire Tower long after midnight, the city sliding past in blurred streaks of neon and shadow. His driver said nothing. Marco sat in the passenger seat, tapping at his phone, aware enough not to ask questions.
Adrian stared out the window, replaying the way Mila had looked at him beneath the streetlight.
I won’t be caged.
The words repeated in his head like a challenge.
Back in his penthouse, Adrian stripped off his coat and loosened his collar. He poured himself a drink, lifted it to his lips, then set it back down untouched.
He didn’t want whiskey.
He wanted clarity.
He walked into his office, switched on the desk lamp, and sat heavily in his chair. The city hummed quietly beyond the glass walls, a living organism that answered to him in a thousand invisible ways.
He opened his laptop.
He stared at the blank screen longer than he should have.
Finally, he pressed the intercom.
“Marco.”
Marco appeared moments later.
“Yes, boss?”
Adrian leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled.
“I want everything on Mila Torres.”
Marco didn’t react.
Not visibly.
But Adrian saw the subtle tightening of his jaw.
“You already have the basics,” Marco said carefully.
“I want more than basics.”
“How much more?”
Adrian exhaled slowly.
“Daily routines. Favorite places. Who she talks to. What she cares about.”
Marco hesitated.
“That’s crossing a line.”
Adrian’s eyes lifted.
“Since when do we worry about lines?”
Marco met his gaze evenly.
“Since it stopped being about security.”
The silence between them thickened.
Adrian didn’t deny it.
“I need to understand her,” Adrian said quietly.
Marco studied him for a moment longer.
Then he nodded once.
“I’ll assign two men. Discreet.”
“Make sure they remember her face,” Adrian added. “I don’t want mistakes.”
Marco paused at the door.
“You’re ordering us to remember her.”
“Yes.”
Marco left without another word.
Adrian leaned back and closed his eyes.
He told himself it was strategy.
He told himself it was precaution.
But deep down, he knew the truth.
He didn’t want to forget Mila Torres.
⸻
Mila
Mila woke the next morning with a dull ache behind her eyes and a strange heaviness in her chest.
She lay in bed for several minutes, staring at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of the city waking up outside her window.
She hadn’t dreamed about Adrian.
That almost bothered her more.
She rolled out of bed, made coffee that tasted burnt, and opened her laptop at the tiny desk wedged between her couch and kitchen counter.
Three new emails waited for her.
Two were client revisions.
One was overdue rent.
She sighed and got to work.
Life didn’t pause because powerful men decided to take interest in you.
By noon, she had finished one design and started another. She put on music and lost herself in colors and shapes, forcing her mind to stay grounded in normal things.
Around two, she realized she was out of groceries.
She grabbed her jacket and headed to the corner market.
The streets were busy, full of people rushing between obligations. Mila blended easily into the crowd. She liked it that way.
She didn’t notice the man in the gray hoodie until he stopped walking when she stopped.
She didn’t notice the woman pretending to browse magazines across the street.
Not at first.
It was only when she left the market and felt that familiar prickle between her shoulders that she slowed her pace.
She glanced at a*****e window and caught their reflections.
Her stomach tightened.
Not obvious.
Not aggressive.
Just present.
She kept walking.
They kept following.
Her pulse quickened, but she didn’t panic.
Instead, she turned abruptly into a small café and took a seat by the window.
A minute later, the woman entered and ordered coffee.
The man lingered outside.
Mila exhaled slowly.
So Adrian hadn’t listened.
She pulled out her phone and texted Jasmine.
Mila: Are you busy?
Jasmine: Always, but for you? Never. What’s up?
Mila: I think your favorite crime lord has upgraded his interest in me.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Jasmine: Mila. That is NOT funny.
Mila watched the woman take a seat two tables away.
Mila: I’m serious.
Jasmine: Do you want me to come get you?
Mila hesitated.
Her pride told her no.
Her instincts told her to stay smart.
Mila: Not yet. I just need to breathe.
She put her phone down and stared out the window.
She wasn’t scared.
But she was angry.
⸻
Adrian
By evening, Adrian had a full report.
Marco laid it out without commentary.
“She works from home three days a week. Bartends Fridays and Saturdays. Visits the corner market every other day. Takes walks at night when she’s stressed. She sends money to an elderly neighbor occasionally.”
Adrian listened intently.
“She volunteers once a month at a community art center.”
Adrian lifted his eyes.
“She didn’t mention that.”
“She doesn’t talk about herself much.”
No.
She didn’t.
Adrian absorbed every detail, each piece fitting together into a picture that felt dangerously intimate.
“She confronted the surveillance today,” Marco added.
Adrian’s gaze sharpened.
“How?”
“She didn’t make a scene. She noticed.”
Of course she did.
“She went into a café and waited them out.”
Adrian closed his eyes briefly.
“She’s not stupid,” Marco said quietly.
“No.”
“She’s also not impressed.”
Adrian opened his eyes.
“Pull them back.”
Marco blinked.
“Boss?”
“She made her point.”
Marco nodded. “I’ll handle it.”
Adrian stood and walked to the window.
He watched the city again, but this time he wasn’t seeing territory or assets.
He was seeing Mila walking down crowded sidewalks.
He was seeing her standing her ground.
He was seeing her looking at him like he was just a man.
It disturbed him how much he admired that.
⸻
Mila
The following day, the shadows disappeared.
No man in a hoodie.
No woman pretending to browse.
Just the city, loud and ordinary.
Mila felt relief—and irritation.
She didn’t want protection.
She wanted respect.
That night, Adrian returned to The Rusted Crown.
Mila saw him the moment he entered.
Their eyes met across the room.
She didn’t look away.
He approached the bar slowly.
“You pulled your people back,” she said before he could speak.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He studied her face.
“You noticed.”
She poured him a drink.
“I always notice.”
He accepted the glass.
“I crossed a boundary.”
She met his gaze.
“Yes, you did.”
He hesitated.
“That wasn’t my intention.”
Her eyebrow lifted.
“And what was?”
He answered honestly.
“I didn’t want to lose track of you.”
Her hand stilled.
“That’s not your choice to make.”
“I know.”
Silence stretched.
“You don’t like being watched,” he said.
“No.”
“You don’t like being controlled.”
“No.”
He nodded slowly.
“Then we understand each other.”
She studied him carefully.
“You don’t usually back down.”
“No.”
“Why now?”
His eyes softened just a fraction.
“Because I don’t want to become something ugly in your story.”
Her throat tightened unexpectedly.
She looked away first.
They stood there in quiet tension, neither sure what this thing between them was becoming.
But both aware that it was no longer nothing.
- Writer
