Chapter 9
2002 Words
Miguel Anguer had discovered something terrible.
He was jealous.
Not mildly jealous.
Not secretly jealous.
Not the kind of jealousy that could be dismissed as concern.
He was completely, hopelessly, ridiculously jealous.
And the worst part?
Christopher Picque wasn't even trying to hide what he wanted.
He wanted Anya.
Everyone could see it.
Everyone except Miguel, apparently.
Or rather, Miguel could see it perfectly.
He simply refused to admit how much it bothered him.
It began with flowers.
Again.
Anya was sitting in the garden one afternoon when Christopher arrived carrying a bouquet.
"These are for you."
Anya smiled.
"Again?"
"Again."
"You don't get tired of bringing me flowers?"
"Not when you smile like that."
Anya laughed.
"You know you're very charming."
"I've been told."
"By many women?"
"Several."
Anya shook her head.
"You're honest."
"I don't see the point in lying to you."
From the second-floor balcony, Miguel watched them.
He was holding a cup of coffee.
He was supposed to be reviewing financial documents.
Instead, he was watching Christopher give Anya flowers.
Again.
Miguel muttered:
"Ridiculous."
Harris stood nearby.
"Sir?"
"Nothing."
"You seem upset."
"I'm not."
"You're crushing your coffee cup."
Miguel looked down.
The cup was, indeed, beginning to c***k.
He loosened his grip.
"I wasn't aware."
Harris smiled.
"Of course."
Miguel glared at him.
"Don't."
Harris wisely walked away.
The next day, Christopher walked Anya home from the market.
Anya had gone out to purchase ingredients for dinner.
Christopher happened to be nearby.
At least, that's what he claimed.
"I can walk with you."
"You don't have to."
"I know."
"But you want to."
"Very much."
Anya smiled.
"All right."
They walked together.
Christopher matched his pace to hers.
He didn't grab her arm.
He didn't pull her along.
He simply walked beside her.
Anya appreciated that.
Most people treated her blindness as if it made her fragile.
Christopher didn't.
He spoke to her normally.
Joked with her.
Teased her.
And never once treated her like someone who needed pity.
It was refreshing.
"You know," Christopher said, "I like talking to you."
"Why?"
"Because you're honest."
"So is Miguel."
Christopher laughed.
"Miguel is many things."
Anya smiled.
"But honest?"
"Sometimes."
"You're not afraid of him."
"Should I be?"
"No."
"Then why do you sound concerned?"
Christopher smiled.
"Because he's intimidating."
Anya laughed.
"He is."
They reached the mansion.
Christopher stopped at the gate.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"I promised you something."
"What?"
"A book."
Anya smiled.
"You remembered."
"Of course."
"Thank you."
Christopher walked away.
Anya entered the mansion.
She didn't notice Miguel standing near the window.
He had seen everything.
Every word.
Every smile.
Every moment.
He wasn't happy.
Not remotely.
The next afternoon, Christopher kept his promise.
He brought Anya a book.
"What's this?"
"The novel you mentioned."
Anya touched the cover.
"You found it?"
"It took some searching."
"Thank you."
She smiled.
Christopher sat beside her.
"Would you like me to read it?"
Anya hesitated.
"Are you sure?"
"I wouldn't offer if I wasn't."
She nodded.
"Yes."
Christopher opened the book.
He began reading.
His voice was warm and steady.
Anya listened.
She relaxed.
She enjoyed the sound.
Not because she couldn't read.
She could.
But there were some things she missed because of her vision.
Reading aloud made stories feel alive.
Christopher understood that.
Miguel entered the library halfway through the chapter.
He stopped.
Christopher was sitting beside Anya.
Reading.
Anya was smiling.
Miguel stared.
Christopher noticed him.
"Miguel."
Miguel nodded.
"Christopher."
Anya turned toward Miguel.
"Do you need something?"
"No."
"Then why are you here?"
"I was looking for a book."
Christopher glanced at the shelves.
"Which one?"
Miguel looked around.
"That one."
He pointed randomly.
Anya laughed.
"You don't even know what it's called."
Miguel frowned.
"I'll find it."
He walked toward the shelves.
Christopher continued reading.
Miguel stood with his back to them.
He couldn't believe this.
He was jealous of a book.
A book.
He had never thought his life would come to this.
Later that evening, Miguel sat across from Anya at dinner.
"What did you do today?"
Anya smiled.
"Christopher read to me."
Miguel's fork stopped.
"Christopher?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because he offered."
Miguel nodded.
"Right."
"He has a nice voice."
Miguel's jaw tightened.
"I'm sure."
Anya smiled.
"You sound jealous."
"I'm not."
"You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"That angry floor face."
Miguel sighed.
"I don't have an angry floor face."
"You do."
Anya laughed.
Miguel tried not to smile.
He failed.
She caught it.
"You smiled."
"No."
"You did."
"I didn't."
"You're getting worse at lying."
Miguel returned to his dinner.
"Eat."
"Bossy."
"You're welcome."
Christopher's courtship continued.
He learned Anya's favorite food.
He brought her pastries from a bakery across town.
He discovered that she liked cinnamon tea.
He brought it every morning.
He remembered that she hated overly sweet desserts.
He remembered that she loved rainy weather.
He even learned which songs she enjoyed.
He didn't simply want to impress her.
He wanted to know her.
And Anya appreciated it.
Miguel noticed every single detail.
One morning, Christopher arrived carrying a bag.
"I brought your favorite."
Anya smiled.
"How did you know?"
"You mentioned it once."
Miguel walked into the room.
"What did he bring?"
Anya laughed.
"My favorite pastries."
Miguel looked at Christopher.
"How did you know?"
Christopher smiled.
"She told me."
Miguel looked at Anya.
"You told him?"
"Yes."
"You never told me."
Anya raised an eyebrow.
"You never asked."
Miguel opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Christopher smiled.
"I'll leave you two."
He walked away.
Miguel watched him.
Then looked at Anya.
"What's your favorite?"
"What?"
"Food."
She smiled.
"Why?"
"I want to know."
"Now you want to know?"
"Yes."
She laughed.
"You're late."
Miguel frowned.
"Tell me."
Anya leaned closer.
"Chocolate cake."
Miguel nodded.
"Noted."
"Why?"
"Nothing."
But the next morning, there was chocolate cake on her breakfast tray.
Anya smiled when she discovered it.
She immediately knew who had ordered it.
One evening, Anya sat in the garden.
Christopher joined her.
He had brought a book.
"More reading?"
She smiled.
"I thought you'd never stop."
"Would you like me to?"
"No."
"Good."
He sat beside her.
They talked for a while.
Then Christopher reached for her hand.
He held it gently.
Anya didn't pull away.
She wasn't sure what to make of the gesture.
Christopher looked at her.
"Anya."
"Yes?"
"I want you to know something."
"What?"
"I don't care that you can't see."
She became still.
"I know."
"I don't mean that I ignore it."
He gently squeezed her hand.
"I mean it doesn't change how I see you."
Anya smiled.
"Thank you."
"You are independent."
"Yes."
"Strong."
"Sometimes."
"Funny."
"Always."
He laughed.
"And beautiful."
Anya became quiet.
Christopher's voice softened.
"I want to court you."
Anya didn't answer immediately.
She had suspected it.
Now he had said it directly.
"Christopher..."
"You don't have to answer now."
He smiled.
"I just wanted you to know."
Anya nodded.
"Thank you for being honest."
Then footsteps approached.
Fast.
Heavy.
Familiar.
Miguel.
He had seen Christopher holding Anya's hand.
Something inside him snapped.
He walked directly toward them.
His expression was dark.
Anya heard his footsteps.
"Miguel?"
He stopped in front of them.
His eyes went immediately to Christopher's hand.
Christopher was still holding Anya's.
Miguel's voice was cold.
"Remove your hand."
Silence.
Christopher looked at him.
Then smiled.
"Why?"
Miguel opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Because he didn't have an answer.
He couldn't say:
Because I love her.
He couldn't say:
Because I'm jealous.
He couldn't say:
Because I can't stand seeing another man touch her.
He couldn't say any of it.
So he simply stood there.
Christopher's smile grew.
Anya tilted her head.
"Miguel?"
Miguel looked at her.
Then at Christopher.
Then at their hands.
His face became red.
Christopher raised an eyebrow.
"Well?"
Miguel finally said:
"Because..."
He paused.
Anya waited.
Christopher waited.
Miguel looked completely defeated.
"Because..."
Nothing.
Anya suddenly started laughing.
She laughed so hard she had to cover her mouth.
Miguel stared at her.
"What?"
"You don't have an answer!"
"I do."
"What is it?"
Miguel looked at Christopher.
"He's..."
He stopped.
"He's what?"
"Annoying."
Christopher laughed.
"That's not a reason."
"It is to me."
Anya laughed harder.
Miguel's face became redder.
"This isn't funny."
"It is."
He looked at her.
"You think this is funny?"
"Very."
Christopher finally released Anya's hand.
"There."
Miguel looked satisfied.
Then Christopher smiled.
"Happy?"
Miguel nodded.
"Yes."
Anya shook her head.
"You two are ridiculous."
Later that evening, Miguel found Anya alone.
He stood in the doorway.
"Are you angry?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Anya smiled.
"You were jealous."
Miguel sighed.
"I don't like him."
"I know."
"He's too charming."
Anya laughed.
"That's not his fault."
"He brings you flowers."
"I like flowers."
"He reads to you."
"I like books."
"He remembers your favorite food."
Anya smiled.
"So?"
Miguel looked frustrated.
"He knows things about you."
"Then you should learn them too."
Miguel froze.
Anya's smile softened.
"You could ask."
He looked at her.
"You're telling me to ask?"
"Yes."
"What do you like?"
Anya smiled.
"You already know."
"Tell me again."
She thought for a moment.
"I like rain."
He nodded.
"Books."
He nodded again.
"Chocolate cake."
"I know."
"Music."
"I know."
"Flowers."
He frowned.
"Apparently."
She laughed.
"And I like people who don't treat me like I'm helpless."
Miguel looked at her.
"I don't."
"I know."
"And I don't pity you."
"I know."
"Good."
He took a step closer.
Anya remained still.
"What else?"
She smiled.
"I like people who are honest."
Miguel looked away.
"That's difficult."
"Why?"
"Because I have something to tell you."
Anya's heart skipped.
"What?"
He looked at her.
But before he could answer, Christopher's voice came from the hallway.
"Anya?"
She turned.
Christopher stood at the doorway.
Miguel's expression immediately darkened.
"Of course."
Anya sighed.
Christopher smiled.
"I brought something."
Miguel closed his eyes.
"Of course you did."
Christopher held up a small box.
Chocolate.
Anya laughed.
"Thank you."
Miguel looked at Christopher.
Then at Anya.
Then at the chocolates.
He walked away.
Anya called after him.
"Good night!"
Miguel raised one hand.
He didn't turn around.
That night, Miguel sat in his office.
He had spent the entire evening watching another man court the woman he loved.
Yes.
Loved.
The word finally appeared in his mind.
He could no longer deny it.
He loved Anya.
And that was terrifying.
Because Anya was not just the woman he wanted.
She was also hiding secrets.
Someone was following her.
Someone knew about her past.
Someone was trying to stop her investigation.
And Miguel knew there was something she wasn't telling him.
But he didn't care.
Not tonight.
Tonight, he only cared about one thing.
He didn't want to lose her.
Meanwhile, Anya sat in her room.
She thought about Christopher.
He was kind.
Charming.
Patient.
He treated her with respect.
But when she thought about the man whose footsteps she could recognize from across the mansion...
Her heart behaved differently.
Miguel.
The arrogant CEO.
The jealous fool.
The man who had almost kissed her.
The man who bought her a necklace and called it "employee appreciation."
The man who had nearly started a fight because Christopher held her hand.
Anya smiled.
She knew something now.
Christopher might be courting her.
But her heart was slowly choosing someone else.
Someone who still didn't know how to say what he truly felt.
Outside the mansion, however, someone else was watching.
The same mysterious figure who had been following Anya.
They watched Christopher leave.
They watched Miguel enter his office.
And they smiled.
The rivalry between the two men was becoming useful.
Because while Miguel was distracted by jealousy...
The enemy was getting closer to Anya's secret.
And soon, the truth about the blind maid's past would begin to surface.
When it did, Miguel would have to make a choice.
Trust Anya...
Or believe the evidence against her.
And that choice would change everything.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD