Chapter 1: A walk down memory lane

1309 Words
Dear Diary, I saw him again last night. After all these years, there he was—interacting with the crowd so nonchalantly, like he could do no wrong. I was mad at him. Furious, even. Just like I’ve been all these years. But I had braced myself with the comforting thought that I’d never have to deal with him again. Turns out, I was wrong. Apparently, if you want it badly enough, even mountains can meet. I avoided his gaze and stayed in the far corner of the yard, hiding behind groups of people. He didn’t see me, but I watched him. I watched as he effortlessly gallivanted through the crowd like the snake that he is—chatting lightly with each guest he came across, slipping in a compliment to random women. I could tell by the way they blushed so diligently that he still hadn’t lost his charm. My heart clenched painfully in my chest when he eventually looked at me. Except… he looked right through me. Like he didn’t know me. Or maybe, he had already forgotten me. Once again, here I go—giving him too much credit. While I’m still here, kicking myself for past mistakes. --- Naya nearly fell face-first onto her bedroom floor as she stumbled out of bed. Half asleep, half awake, she rushed into the shower, praying she wasn’t as late as she feared. She had snoozed her alarm twice that morning, only to wake up to the pale light of dawn spilling through her window. This was not the day to be late. Not today. She had just moved to Dubai after working insanely hard to secure a position in one of her dream companies—Nadeem’s World Market. An international marketing agency with branches all over the globe, its main office stood tall in Dubai. Naya had worked in their Egyptian branch in Cairo for two years, and thanks to her productivity, they had accepted her into the main team as part of their creatives department. Today was her first day at the headquarters. And she had overslept. Her heart pounded as she pulled on the outfit she had laid out the night before. Her makeup was already done—simple but elegant. Sliding into her heels, she avoided looking at the clock. If she was late, she didn’t want to know how late. That would only add pressure and worsen her anxiety. This was a mentality she had borrowed from one of her college roommates. The thought made her smile faintly as she grabbed her golden purse and headed out the door. She wore long cream-colored palazzo pants that covered her shoes, making her look taller than she really was. A cream silk sleeveless blouse was neatly tucked into the pants, and over it all she draped a flowing golden-and-cream Arabian kimono that trailed at her feet. Her thick dark hair was tied into a sleek ponytail, hidden beneath a silk scarf she had fastened into a bun. The style framed her delicate features beautifully, leaving her face uncovered. Naya was born into an Arabian family, but her mother was Ethiopian. She had inherited most of her father’s features—skin tone, sharp eyes, and smooth hair texture—while her long, thick curls came from her mother’s side. She always said that of all the gifts her parents had given her, she was most grateful for that hair. Her warm brown eyes radiated gentleness, her button nose sat perfectly above full lips, and her baby face often masked her true age—for better or worse. She locked her apartment door and hurried to the elevator. On the street, she flagged a cab. Finally daring to check the time, she sighed with relief. She was fifteen minutes early. But her calm vanished the moment she remembered him. Cain. He had been at the party last night. The company had hosted a celebration for its thirty years in business, and at first Naya hadn’t wanted to attend. But she had convinced herself it was a good chance to meet the people she’d be working with. She had been mingling when she spotted him in the crowd. Now, as the cab rolled smoothly toward the office, her chest tightened. The driver, a kindly man in his thirties, kept sneaking glances at her in the rearview mirror. Naya gave him a polite smile once or twice, but her nerves were impossible to hide. It’s okay, Naya. He doesn’t even know who you are, she whispered to herself as she stepped out of the cab and approached the office building. The four-story building stood elegantly against the towering skyscrapers around it, designed in unique colors that matched the company logo. “It’s promising,” she murmured, inhaling deeply before walking toward the front desk. Behind it sat a stunning blonde receptionist whose eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings. Naya smiled. “Hello.” “Hi!” the receptionist exclaimed brightly, batting her lashes. “I’m Naya—Naya Adam. The new employee. I was told to report today and get my file from you,” she explained, resisting the urge to stare at the woman’s enormous, fairy-tale-like eyes. “You have beautiful eyes, by the way,” Naya added. “Aw, thank you! Yes, here’s your file. Welcome to NWM. You can call me Lisa,” the receptionist said warmly, handing Naya a folder. Lisa guided her to the office floor. The space buzzed with energy—staff working at open tables, sketching on boards, or tucked into cubicles. Glass walls divided most of the rooms, allowing everyone to see in and out. Lisa stopped in front of a private office with solid walls. Inside, a massive desk faced a comfortable gray couch and glass coffee table. A floor-to-ceiling window overlooked the city. “All mine?” Naya muttered in awe. “You share it with Ryan,” Lisa replied with a smile. “Fair enough. But why do we get an office when everyone else is in cubicles?” “The new CEO prefers creatives to have quiet spaces,” Lisa explained. Naya chuckled. She had once said the same thing to a professor in college. “The new CEO?” she asked. “Isn’t Mr. Nadeem the boss here?” Lisa shook her head. “He retired last year. His eldest son runs the company now. Mr. Cain Nadeem.” Naya froze. The air caught in her throat. “Cain?” she whispered, just to make sure she hadn’t misheard. “Yes, Mr. Cain,” Lisa confirmed. Naya’s stomach dropped. He’s everywhere. literally under every rock I turn. “Oh, and by the way, you actually share a wall with him,” Lisa added casually, pulling open the blinds. Through the glass, Naya saw his office—dark, masculine, and intimidating. Black wallpaper. A mahogany desk. Files neatly stacked in shades as dark as his soul. Her anxiety twisted into defiance. She silently vowed to keep up her façade. Pretend not to know him. Keep the blinds shut. Avoid him at all costs. She rubbed her stomach gently, closing her eyes as she sank into the couch. This ritual always helped her keep the demons of her past at bay. But now, their master sat in the office across from hers. And she knew he wouldn’t rest until he summoned them out. Still, she promised herself she would stay in control. No matter how sweet the music, she would not dance to his tune. Cain wasn’t in today. That gave her room to breathe. She walked to the blinds and closed them firmly. “Once bitten, twice shy,” she whispered, sinking into the massive chair behind her desk. It swallowed her small frame, but she leaned back, smiling faintly. “It was all worth it,” she murmured.
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