Manufactured Fate
1244 Words
Adrian
Adrian Black had never believed in fate.
He believed in leverage.
He believed in timing, positioning, and preparation. Every alliance he built, every enemy he dismantled, every business deal he closed was the result of careful planning. Nothing in his world happened by accident.
So when Mila Torres began appearing in his days again, it wasn’t destiny.
It was design.
He told himself it was harmless.
He told himself he was simply making sure she stayed within sight. That he wanted to understand her routines better, to anticipate danger before it reached her. That he was still operating from a place of protection.
But deep down, Adrian knew he was lying to himself.
He wasn’t protecting Mila.
He was pulling her closer.
It started small.
He adjusted his schedule so his morning meetings ended near the café she sometimes visited. He instructed Marco to reroute one of his drivers through her neighborhood in the evenings. He moved a lunch appointment to a restaurant he knew she liked, based on a casual comment she’d made at the bar.
None of it felt dramatic.
It felt… precise.
And every time he saw her, every time their eyes met in another “unexpected” place, something in his chest loosened just a little.
That scared him.
⸻
Mila
The first time felt like coincidence.
Mila stood in line at a coffee shop near her apartment, scrolling through emails on her phone, when a familiar presence settled behind her.
She didn’t need to turn around.
She felt him.
“Good morning,” Adrian said quietly.
She glanced back.
“You stalking bar staff now?”
He smiled faintly.
“I drink coffee too.”
She eyed him skeptically.
“You live across the city.”
“Meetings nearby.”
She accepted the answer because it was reasonable.
They ordered.
He paid before she could protest.
She let it go.
They stood at the counter waiting for their drinks.
“Did you sleep?” he asked.
She shrugged.
“Eventually.”
He studied the faint shadows beneath her eyes.
“You should rest more.”
She snorted.
“You should smile more.”
His lips twitched.
They parted ways outside the café with a casual goodbye.
She walked home thinking nothing of it.
⸻
The second time made her pause.
She was leaving the community art center after dropping off supplies when a black car pulled up to the curb.
Adrian stepped out.
Her brows lifted.
“Do you teleport?”
He closed the door behind him.
“I had business in the area.”
“Uh-huh.”
He ignored the skepticism in her tone.
“You volunteer here?”
“Once in a while.”
His gaze softened as he glanced at the mural-in-progress on the building’s wall.
“You’re good with kids.”
She shrugged.
“They’re honest. I like that.”
He nodded slowly.
They talked for ten minutes about paint colors and stubborn teenagers.
Then he left.
Again, Mila told herself it was chance.
⸻
The third time, she stopped pretending.
She exited a bookstore downtown with a used novel tucked under her arm—and nearly walked straight into Adrian.
She stared at him.
He stared back.
They both went quiet.
“Okay,” Mila said slowly. “Now you’re definitely following me.”
Adrian hesitated.
That was all the confirmation she needed.
She crossed her arms.
“You promised.”
His jaw tightened.
“I didn’t put anyone on you.”
“Then how do you keep showing up?”
He held her gaze.
“I make choices.”
Her stomach dropped.
“Choices,” she repeated.
“About where you’ll be?”
“Yes.”
Realization spread through her.
“You’re engineering this.”
He didn’t deny it.
Her voice sharpened.
“Adrian, that’s not romantic. That’s controlling.”
His eyes darkened.
“I just wanted to see you.”
“You don’t manufacture coincidence to see someone.”
He exhaled slowly.
“I don’t know how to do this any other way.”
The honesty in his voice knocked the anger slightly off balance.
She studied him carefully.
“That’s not my problem.”
“I know.”
They stood there on the sidewalk, people flowing around them like water around stones.
“You said you didn’t want to be watched,” Adrian said quietly.
“And you ignored that.”
“I didn’t watch. I walked.”
She shook her head.
“That’s semantics.”
He stepped closer.
“I missed you.”
Her breath caught despite herself.
“That doesn’t give you ownership.”
“I’m not trying to own you.”
“Then stop arranging my life.”
His shoulders dropped a fraction.
She had never seen him look unsure.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he said.
The words were quiet.
Bare.
Real.
Mila’s anger faltered.
“You never had me,” she said softly.
That hurt him more than she intended.
He nodded once.
“You’re right.”
She took a step back.
“This is dangerous territory, Adrian.”
“For both of us.”
She hesitated.
Then sighed.
“Coffee,” she said suddenly.
He blinked.
“What?”
“You owe me coffee. Real coffee. Not accidental coffee.”
A faint smile curved his mouth.
“Deal.”
⸻
Adrian
They sat at a small outdoor table, steam rising from ceramic cups between them.
Adrian watched Mila stir sugar into her drink with unnecessary force.
“You don’t trust me right now,” he said.
She snorted.
“Insightful.”
He leaned forward.
“I’m trying to learn.”
She looked up.
“You don’t get to practice on people.”
“I know.”
Silence settled.
Then Mila spoke quietly.
“You scare people because you control everything. But control isn’t connection.”
He absorbed that.
“You don’t know how to let things happen.”
“No,” he admitted.
She nodded.
“That’s the problem.”
He studied her face.
“I’m not good at this.”
She softened.
“I can tell.”
They drank in silence.
Adrian felt something unfamiliar settle in his chest.
Patience.
He had spent his life forcing outcomes.
Mila was teaching him how to wait.
⸻
Mila
Walking home later, Mila replayed everything.
The engineered meetings.
The confession.
The way he’d looked at her like he was afraid she’d disappear.
She wasn’t blind.
She knew this wasn’t normal.
But she also knew Adrian wasn’t pretending.
He was a man who solved problems by moving pieces on a board.
She was teaching him that some things couldn’t be positioned into place.
She stopped outside her building and turned.
He was still there, lingering by his car.
“You don’t have to hover,” she called.
He smiled faintly.
“Old habits.”
She shook her head.
“Goodnight, Adrian.”
“Goodnight, Mila.”
She went inside.
Her heart felt heavier.
Not with fear.
With possibility.
⸻
Adrian (Later)
Adrian returned to Blackspire Tower with a strange sense of calm.
He had crossed a line.
He knew that.
But he had also learned something.
Mila didn’t want to be pursued like prey.
She wanted to be chosen.
And she wanted to choose back.
He stood by the window once more.
Manufactured fate had brought her closer.
But now he understood.
Real connection would require something far more dangerous.
Letting go of control.
- Writer
