Chapter4
1074 Words
The Wrong Door
Roman
He hated lateness.
Roman Thorne had waited exactly twelve minutes past the scheduled meeting before walking out of the office and into his waiting car. Business was structured. Timing. Precision. Anything less was a waste of his time.
So when the young woman rushed toward him in heels, breathless and apologetic, waving a sleek tablet in one hand and a brown leather file in the other, he barely glanced at her.
“Mr. Thorne, please, I’m really sorry. The flight—there was a delay and my hotel—”
He didn’t stop walking.
“Email my office,” he said flatly.
“I did. Twice. No one replied. If you just give me five minutes—”
“I don’t give five minutes to people who don’t respect mine,” Roman said coldly, yanking open the car door.
“Sir, please—”
But the door slammed shut before she could finish.
His driver pulled off, leaving her standing there like a discarded apology in designer flats.
---
Alora
Alora Davis stood frozen for a second, chest heaving. She hadn’t imagined her reunion with the Thorne family to be this... cold.
She wasn’t even here for personal reasons. She didn’t know anything had happened to her father or sister. She’d only been thrilled to find out her company was sending her to her hometown for a partnership proposal with Thorne Enterprises. In her mind, this was fate working in her favor — a chance to impress her boss and surprise her family after months apart.
But the man she just met?
Rude. Arrogant. No trace of the civility her company had boasted about.
She glanced down at her file, then back at the street.
I’m not leaving without this deal.
Not because of how high the stakes were. Not with the performance review coming up. She wasn’t the type to let one slammed door end her mission.
She flagged down a cab and told the driver to follow the black car.
---
The Thorne Estate – 45 Minutes Later
Roman was halfway through unbuttoning his shirt when the guard buzzed in.
“Sir, there’s a... visitor at the gate.”
He frowned. “Who?”
“A woman. Says she’s from Nexus Inc. Claims she had a scheduled meeting with you earlier today. She followed you here, sir.”
Roman’s fingers paused at his collar.
Persistent.
Fine.
“Let her in,” he said, then added after a moment, “Make her wait.”
---
Alora
The guard had her sit in the wide, cold sitting room that smelled like polished wood and something faintly expensive.
Alora let out a shaky breath and crossed her legs, smoothing her skirt. The house was beautiful, grand and silent. She tried not to think about how desperate she looked, showing up uninvited like this.
But it was her job. Her future. And maybe — just maybe — she’d be able to sneak a visit to her father and sister before she leaves town.
She was checking her notes when a door creaked open behind her.
“Hey, uh... sorry, didn’t know anyone was—”
She turned around.
And he froze.
Damien Thorne was not a man who usually lost his words, but the moment his eyes met Alora’s, his tongue forgot how to behave.
She stood, politely, extending her hand. “Good evening. I’m Alora Davis. I came for a business proposal.”
He blinked. Davis?
Her voice was calm, confident. Not flirty. Not playing cute. She was professional, focused — but to Damien, she looked like something from a painting he didn’t know he’d been waiting to see.
“I—I’m Damien,” he managed. “Roman’s brother. Uh—do you want water? Juice? I mean—tea?”
She gave him a small smile. “I’m alright. Thank you.”
He cleared his throat and nodded too many times. “Okay." Cool. I’ll just... let him know you’re here.”
He backed into the hallway like a nervous intern and practically jogged to Roman’s office.
Roman
“She’s still here?” Roman muttered, pulling on a clean shirt.
Damien leaned against the doorframe, his usual casual air replaced by something awkward.
“She said her name’s Alora Davis.”
Roman stopped mid-button.
“What?”
“Yeah,” Damien said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think she’s... related to Emerald.”
Roman swore under his breath.
He hadn’t seen it when she showed up. She looked different. Less fire. More polish. But now he thought about it — the shape of her mouth, the eyes — she had Davis blood, no doubt.
And now she was in his home.
Innocent.
Just like her sister had pretended to be.
He walked out without another word.
The Sitting Room
Alora stood up when Roman entered, posture straight.
“I apologize for earlier,” she began. “I understand I arrived late, but the team at Nexus Inc. values this partnership and—”
Roman’s eyes burned into hers. “Your name is Alora Davis.”
She paused. “Yes.”
“As in Charles Davis’ daughter.”
Her mouth parted slightly. “You know my father?”
Roman laughed once — cold and short.
“You could say that.”
Alora blinked. “I don’t understand.”
Damien stepped forward. “Roman—”
But Roman raised a hand.
“She’s here for business, right? Let’s make it business.”
He crossed the room and sat down across from her, deliberately calm. “You’ll pitch your proposal. I’ll listen. But if you lie to me, if you waste one second of my time — I’ll make sure your company loses more than this deal.”
Alora didn’t shrink.
Instead, she opened her file.
“Understood.”
Damien looked between them — Roman with his armor up, Alora with her dignity intact — and for the first time in days, he didn’t know who to root for.
Elsewhere in the house
Emerald stood frozen in the hallway corner, her laundry basket pressed to her hip.
She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. She was just passing when she heard it — Alora Davis.
Her sister.
She hadn't
Heard from her in weeks. And now, here? In this house? Talking business with Roman?
Her head spun.
She backed into the wall, heart pounding.
What was she supposed to do now?
- Writer
