Chapter 2
536 Words
The Game He Started
Bea learned the rhythm of the office in three days.
Women came in the mornings. Meetings filled the afternoons. Silence ruled the evenings.
And Ace Monteverde noticed everything.
He noticed how she never stared when someone walked past in a tight dress.
How she never lingered near his office door.
How she kept her voice calm, her eyes lowered, her presence small.
It annoyed him.
Women usually reacted to him. They tried to impress him. Flirt with him. Fear him. Want him.
Bea did none of it.
Which made him watch her more.
“Cancel my three o’clock,” he said one afternoon without looking up from his phone.
“But sir, the investors—”
“Cancel it.”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He watched her from the corner of his eye as she made the call. Calm. Efficient. No hesitation.
“Stay late tonight,” he added.
Her fingers paused for half a second before continuing to type. “Of course, sir.”
No complaint.
No question.
That irritated him more than defiance would have.
By eight in the evening, the floor was empty except for them.
City lights blinked outside like distant stars. Bea gathered files on his desk, careful not to brush against him.
“Why did your family’s company collapse?”
The question came out of nowhere.
Her back stiffened.
She did not turn. “It was a long time ago, sir.”
“I did not ask when.”
She swallowed. “Debt. Bad timing.”
“Or bad decisions?”
Her jaw tightened, but her voice remained steady. “I am not here to discuss my past.”
Finally, she looked at him.
And for the first time, he saw it.
Pride.
Not arrogance. Not entitlement.
Pride that had survived ruin.
Something inside him shifted.
He stepped closer.
Too close.
“You were rich once,” he said quietly. “I can see it in the way you stand.”
“And now I work for you,” she replied. “Life changes.”
His gaze dragged slowly over her face, searching. Testing.
“Does it bother you,” he murmured, “seeing women come and go?”
Her breath hitched before she could stop it.
“That is not my concern.”
“Answer the question.”
She held his eyes this time. “My feelings are irrelevant here.”
That answer did something to him.
Because it meant she did feel.
She just refused to show it.
His hand moved to the desk beside her again, trapping space, not touching. The air thickened.
“You are very good at pretending,” he said softly.
“So are you.”
Silence fell.
Dangerous silence.
For a moment, it felt like something might snap between them — tension pulled too tight.
Then his phone buzzed.
The moment broke.
He stepped away first.
“Go home, Bea,” he said coldly, like nothing had happened.
She walked out with steady steps.
But inside, something had shifted.
Ace Monteverde had stopped seeing her as furniture.
Now he saw her as a challenge.
And men like him did not walk away from challenges.
They conquered them.
- Writer
