Chapter 6
944 Words
The Man Who Looked at Her
Sleep did not come easily to Bea anymore.
It came in pieces.
Broken by memories she did not want to keep.
A hand brushing her hair back.
A voice lowering just for her.
A moment that had felt almost gentle.
Almost.
She turned on her side in the dark, staring at the faint light from the street outside her window. Her apartment was small, quiet, nothing like the house she grew up in. No marble floors. No high ceilings. No staff moving softly in the background.
Just her.
And the weight of choices she could not undo.
She had worked hard to build walls after everything collapsed. After the funerals. After the auctions. After strangers walked through her childhood home deciding what her life had been worth.
She survived that.
So she did not understand why one man’s quiet voice saying her name could shake her more than losing everything ever did.
The next morning, she arrived earlier than usual.
The building lobby was still half empty, the echo of her footsteps louder than normal. She liked this time of day. No noise. No expectations. No women in expensive heels walking past her desk like she did not exist.
She reached the executive floor and stopped.
Someone was already there.
A man stood near her desk, facing the window, hands in his pockets. His suit was dark, but not sharp in the aggressive way corporate men often dressed. It fit him naturally, like he did not need clothes to prove anything.
She almost turned around, thinking she had come to the wrong floor.
Then he turned.
Warm eyes. Calm expression. A face that carried quiet confidence instead of performance.
“Good morning,” he said, offering a small, polite smile. “You must be Miss Bea.”
She blinked, caught off guard by the softness in his tone. “Yes… I am. And you are?”
“Adrian Vale. I have a meeting with Mr. Monteverde at ten.”
His voice did not rush. Did not command. Did not expect her to move faster because he existed.
For the first time since working here, someone looked at her like she was a person.
Not furniture. Not background. Not invisible.
Something in her chest loosened, just slightly.
“I’ll inform him you’re here,” she said.
She pressed the intercom.
“Sir, Mr. Adrian Vale has arrived.”
There was a pause.
Longer than necessary.
Then Ace’s voice came through, colder than usual. “Send him in.”
Adrian gave her another polite nod. “Thank you.”
She watched him walk into the office. The door closed behind him.
And strangely… she did not feel that familiar tightness in her chest.
There was no laughter echoing. No lipstick stains. No silent humiliation she had to swallow.
Just a meeting.
Just business.
Inside the office, Ace remained standing.
He did not offer a seat immediately.
Adrian noticed.
Still, he did not seem uncomfortable.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Adrian said calmly, extending his hand.
Ace took it. Their handshake was firm, measured. Two men assessing each other without words.
“Likewise,” Ace replied.
But his eyes flicked, just once, toward the door.
Toward where Bea sat outside.
Adrian followed the glance, then looked back at him. “Your secretary is efficient. Not easy to find people like that these days.”
Ace’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “She does her job.”
Adrian’s expression did not change. “Some people are more than their job.”
Silence fell.
Sharp. Heavy.
Ace did not like the way the conversation tilted. Not the direction. Not the implication. Not the fact that another man had noticed something he had tried to treat like nothing.
He shifted the discussion to numbers, contracts, expansion plans.
But his mind did not stay on the deal.
It stayed outside that door.
On the thought of another man looking at Bea.
Noticing her.
Seeing her.
The meeting lasted an hour.
When Adrian stepped out, Bea stood slightly, professional as always.
“It was nice meeting you, Miss Bea,” he said with a genuine smile. “I hope we cross paths again.”
She nodded politely. “Have a good day, Mr. Vale.”
Inside the office, Ace watched through the glass panel.
Watched the way Adrian spoke to her.
Watched the way she answered.
Watched the way she did not look uncomfortable.
And something unfamiliar curled low in his chest.
Not anger.
Not irritation.
Something tighter.
Darker.
Possessive.
He pressed the intercom button harder than necessary.
“Miss Bea. Inside.”
She entered moments later.
“Yes, sir?”
His gaze held hers longer than usual. Searching. Measuring.
“Did he say anything unnecessary to you?”
She frowned slightly. “No, sir.”
“You seemed comfortable.”
It was not a compliment.
It was an accusation.
She straightened. “I treat all visitors professionally.”
His eyes narrowed.
He did not like that answer.
Did not like that another man could speak to her without fear.
Did not like that she did not look like she was enduring something.
“Return to your desk,” he said finally, voice colder.
She nodded and left.
But as she sat down, she felt it.
A shift.
Like a game had changed rules without warning.
Inside, Ace stood by the window again.
But this time, the city did not feel like something he owned.
Because for the first time…
He felt like something that belonged to him had just been noticed by someone else.
And he did not like it.
Not one bit.
- Writer
