Chapter 3
675 Words
Two weeks later, she understood better the world she had entered.
Miano didn’t just run companies. Businesses. He ran people. He ran deals. He ran territories. He ran lives. Every day, his office was full of men in suits with guns under their jackets.
She pretended to type while memorizing everything ; names, dates, codes.
But that night, something went wrong.
A gunshot echoed from the parking lot below. Miano stood at the window, phone pressed to his ear. “No loose ends tonight,” he said flatly.
Her blood ran cold.
Then his gaze lifted. Through the glass, his looked at her.
For a long second, he just watched her.
She thought he would fire her the next day. Instead, he called her into his office again.
“You heard the gunshot last night,” he said quietly.
“I didn’t….”
He interrupted. “You did. And you’re still here. That tells me something.”
“What does it tell you?” she asked, her voice shaky.
“That you’re either brave…” He stepped closer. “…Or you’re very stupid.”
Her heart raced. “Or maybe both.”
His lips curved slightly. “Keep being both. I like it.”
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That weekend, Miano hosted a charity gala.
The country’s elite arrived in diamonds and whispers.
Kriela wore a red dress that didn’t feel like hers.
Lucas, Miano’s cousin, handed her a glass of wine.
“Careful — my cousin has a type for brave girls in red.” He said with a grin.
She laughed nervously. “And…. what’s your type?”
He leaned closer. Tilting his head, “The ones who tell me their real names.”
Her smile froze. Their real names? What do you mean?
“Relax,” he said smiling. “Just a joke.” But his eyes lingered too long.
Miano appeared beside them, demeanor calm. “Lucas, stop flirting with my assistant.”
“Just being friendly,” Lucas said, smirking. “You could try it sometime.”
“Friendly gets people terminated in this business.”
Lucas raised his glass in mock salute and walked away.
Miano turned to her. “Ignore him.”
“Why should I?”
“He likes games.”
“And you don’t?” she asked.
His gaze softened. “Not when the stakes involved are real.”
Hours later, when the music faded, Miano found her on the balcony, alone.
The city lights glimmered like fallen stars below them.
“You did well tonight,” he said quietly. “People noticed you.”
“I didn’t come here to be noticed,” she replied.
“Maybe not. But you were.”
The wind caught her hair; he reached out without thinking and tucked a loose strand behind her ear.
For a moment, the world went silent.
“Why do you give me that look?” she whispered.
“What look?”
“Like you’re trying to solve me.”
“What if I am?”
She took a deep breath. “And what if I’m a problem you can’t solve?”
His lips curved. “Then I’ll try.”
Two nights later, Kriela stayed late to finish work.
The office was empty and quiet, except for the hum of the elevators.
She’d been waiting for this moment.
Miano had left for a meeting and his office was locked, but she had copied his keycard weeks ago.
Waved it at the lock, and she slipped inside.
The room smelled like his cologne; expensive, sharp and dark.
Her eyes went to the cabinet near his desk.
The same cabinet where she had once seen him hide a small box.
She opened it carefully.
Inside, were files, thick and marked with red wax seals.
She flipped one open.
Names. Dates. Codes. Bank accounts.
And then…
Her heart stopped.
It was a photograph.
Of her father.
Alive.
The picture was recent. Tears rolled down her eyes as she whispered, “Papa….”
He looked older, beard grown but it was him.
- Writer
