Mistake2
1036 Words
Unknown Caller
Arielle didn’t remember pressing the call button.
She only remembered staring at the empty space where Daniel’s number used to be saved… and then deciding she didn’t need it.
She knew it.
Her fingers moved on instinct.
Nine digits.
Her heart thudded violently in her chest as the phone rang. Once.
Twice.
Three times—
It clicked.
Arielle straightened on the bar stool, suddenly breathless.
“Hello.”
That voice.
Deep. Smooth. Controlled.
Not Daniel.
She blinked slowly. “You… sound different.”
A pause.
“I should hope so.”
Her brows furrowed. She pulled the phone away from her ear and squinted at the number. The screen blurred. She wiped it with the edge of her sleeve like that would fix her vision.
“Daniel?” she tried again, her voice softer now. Fragile.
“No.”
The single word was firm. Not confused. Not apologetic.
Just no.
Her stomach dropped.
“Oh.” She let out an awkward laugh. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I think I— I must’ve dialed the wrong number.”
Another pause.
Longer this time.
“You did.”
There was something about the way he said it. Not annoyed. Not amused either.
Interested.
She should hang up.
Instead, she sighed dramatically. “That’s so embarrassing. Can we both pretend this never happened?”
“That depends.”
Her lashes fluttered. “On what?”
“On whether you plan to cry again.”
Silence.
Her mouth fell open. “You heard that?”
“You were loud.”
Her face burned. “I was not.”
“You were.”
And there it was.
Something shifted in her chest. Not comfort. Not safety.
Awareness.
His voice was calm in a way that felt unnatural. Like someone who didn’t rush. Someone who didn’t react.
Someone used to being in control.
“Well,” she snapped defensively, “for your information, whoever you are, my ex ruined my life.”
“Mm.”
“Mm?” she mocked. “That’s all you have to say? Mm?”
“What would you prefer? Condolences? Threats?”
Her heart skipped.
“Threats?” she repeated, half-laughing.
“If he hurt you,” the man continued smoothly, “I could handle it.”
The way he said it made the noisy bar feel distant.
Arielle swallowed.
“Handle it how?”
Another pause.
Then softly, “You ask too many questions for someone who called the wrong number.”
Her breath caught.
This was strange. Very strange.
And yet…
She didn’t hang up.
“Why didn’t you hang up?” she asked suddenly.
“I was listening.”
“To a drunk stranger ramble?”
“Yes.”
“…Why?”
This time, the silence stretched so long she thought the call had dropped.
Then—
“You sounded honest.”
Her throat tightened unexpectedly.
No one had called her that in months.
Honest.
Not dramatic. Not emotional. Not unstable.
Honest.
She laughed weakly. “You don’t even know my name.”
“Tell me.”
She hesitated.
Why was she hesitating?
“It’s Arielle.”
The line went quiet.
And for the first time since the call started, something shifted on his end.
A subtle inhale.
“Arielle,” he repeated slowly.
Her name sounded different in his voice.
Measured.
Like he was committing it to memory.
“And you are?” she asked.
A faint exhale.
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed. “No?”
“No.”
“That’s not how introductions work.”
“I don’t do introductions.”
She scoffed. “Are you in witness protection or something?”
A beat.
“You could say that.”
She laughed again, shaking her head. “Okay, mysterious stranger. Well, thanks for not hanging up on me.”
“You’re welcome.”
She checked the time.
1:47 a.m.
“I should go before I embarrass myself further.”
“You already have.”
“Wow. Rude.”
A small pause.
Then—
“Get home safely, Arielle.”
Her stomach flipped.
“How do you know I’m not already home?”
“You’re not.”
She froze.
The music thumped around her.
“What makes you so sure?” she asked carefully.
“I can hear it.”
Her pulse quickened.
“You’re at a bar. Glass against marble. Ice. Music in the background. You’re seated. Not standing.”
She looked down at the counter.
Her fingers were tracing circles in condensation from her drink.
He was right.
Her chest tightened.
“You pay attention to details,” she murmured.
“Yes.”
Something about that answer felt like a warning.
She swallowed.
“Goodnight… whoever you are.”
A small pause.
Then softly—
“Goodnight, Arielle.”
The line disconnected.
---
Across the city, Kael Virelli lowered the phone slowly.
The room around him was silent.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked Manhattan’s glittering skyline. Below, traffic flowed like veins of light.
He hadn’t moved the entire duration of the call.
Arielle.
Drunk. Emotional. Honest.
Careless.
He glanced at the screen again.
Unknown Number.
He should delete it.
He didn’t.
Instead, he pressed a button on his desk.
Within seconds, his security analyst appeared on the monitor.
“Yes, sir.”
Kael’s voice was calm.
“I need information on a number.”
A pause.
“Priority level?”
Kael’s eyes darkened slightly as he replayed her laugh in his head.
“Immediate.”
The analyst nodded and disappeared from the screen.
Kael leaned back in his chair, staring at the city.
He didn’t know why he was doing this.
She was nothing.
A drunk mistake.
A wrong number.
And yet—
She had said his ex ruined her life.
She had sounded small for a moment.
And Kael Virelli did not like the sound of small.
His phone buzzed.
Information already populating the screen.
Name.
Address.
Roommates.
Workplace.
Kael read it all without expression.
Then he made one quiet decision.
“Keep an eye on her.”
Because the girl who dialed the wrong number…
Had just dialed into the most dangerous man in the city.
And he had no intention of letting her disappear.
- Writer
