The Wrong Flame
1155 Words
Chapter 14: The wrong Flame
It’s been weeks since Alessandra returned, and true to her word, her presence has been impossible to ignore.
She wielded her charm like a scalpel, lingering around Adrian as if I were a rival to be erased, her stares slicing through me like I was a flaw in her perfect design.
Technically I was, but her cruelty still burned. Especially since Adrian barely tolerated me, his indifference a wall she exploited.
Her taunts were deliberate, woven into quiet moments with precision. One afternoon, as I unpacked books in my assigned room—a small sanctuary in this cold house—Alessandra swept in, her perfume trailing like a claim she had no right to make. She surveyed the space with a dismissive hum, then turned to a maid hovering nearby.
“This room has the best light,” she said, her voice silk over steel.
“I’ll need my things moved in here. The other room is too close to the garden—too rustic for my taste.”
She glanced at me, her smile daring me to protest.
“Reina, you won’t mind relocating to the east wing, will you? It’s… more suited to you.”
The maid hesitated, eyes flicking to me, but Alessandra’s arched brow sent her scurrying to obey. The displacement, her casual theft of my space, left me questioning my place here—my sanity fraying as her unearned authority burrowed under my skin.
Worse was the night she orchestrated a formal dinner, supposedly for Adrian’s business associates. I was told to attend—a rare demand—but when I arrived in my best dress, Alessandra’s gaze swept over me, her smile a razor.
“Oh, Reina,” she said, loud enough for the room to hear. “You look nice, but that dress… it screams effort, not elegance.”
The staff, hovering with trays, stifled laughter, their eyes darting away as my face burned. She gestured to my seat at the far end, near the servants’ entrance, while she sat beside Adrian, radiant, her every word drawing his fleeting attention.
As the meal progressed, she leaned toward a guest, murmuring, “It’s such a pity some can’t grasp the decorum this house demands.” Her glance at me was sharp enough to kill.
The staff’s chuckles echoed, each one a dagger in my pride, and I sat frozen, humiliation coiling in my chest like a snake. Adrian didn’t look my way, his cold disinterest making her barbs sting deeper. All through that night, I felt shame wash over me, and there was nothing I could do.
The mansion staff worshipped her, bending to her every whim as if she were the queen they’d missed, despite her having no claim here. Rare wine, imported teas—whatever Alessandra desired appeared instantly.
Me? I was invisible, yet haunted by their whispers in the corridors.
“Wasn’t her engagement to Mr. Cavallo over?” Lila muttered, her duster frozen mid-swipe. “Why’s she back?”
“I’ve never seen a wife so… spineless around her husband’s ex,” another hissed from the laundry room.
“I wish I hadn’t signed that nondisclosure agreement. The media would feast on this.”
“How long before she cracks?”
“I knew Mr. Cavallo wouldn’t forget Alessandra,” a third voice said. “The way he indulges her…”
“Can’t blame him,” Lila added, her tone sharp with pity. “His ex is pure elegance. His wife? She’s drowning.”
“She—”
The memory dissolved as I sat in the office cafeteria, the present rushing back with the clatter of trays. My fork hovered over my untouched lunch. Her taunts were slowly messing with my sanity.
“Hey! Down to earth, dreamer.”
Noah’s voice, warm and teasing, cut through the haze. My fork trembled as I blinked myself back to reality.
Noah stood over my table, water bottle in hand, his gaze a mix of amusement and concern. Of all the people to catch me drifting, it had to be him—the senior colleague whose presence drew every eye, whose kindness felt like a rebellion against the life I was trapped in.
“Oh—uh, I zoned out,” I said, my voice barely cutting through the cafeteria’s hum.
“Do that a lot?” His brows lifted, no edge, just curiosity.
“Maybe. Long day.”
I shrugged, but my insides knotted, caught in the pull of his attention. This was our fourth conversation, and still, he unraveled me—words tangling like they didn’t belong. I’d built a career chasing truths, yet Noah’s easy smile exposed cracks I couldn’t hide.
“So, how’re you settling in?” he asked, unscrewing his bottle and sipping, his casual confidence turning heads without effort. “You’ve been here a while.”
“Yeah, still adjusting to… everything.” My voice wavered, and I forced a smile to mask it. “It’s good, though.”
He glanced at the file in his hand, then slid it toward me.
“I could use your eye on this.”
His fingers brushed mine for a fleeting second. The contact sent a jolt through me, unbidden and dangerous.
He nodded, a faint smile curving his lips—or maybe I imagined it.
“Happy you’re adapting well. That’s what counts.”
It wasn’t flirting, not even close. Just kindness. Which was worse, because it fed a reckless hope I couldn’t afford—not with the vows chaining me to a man who barely saw me. I dropped my gaze to my tray, the half-eaten food a blur, my pulse thundering like a warning.
“Don’t let me interrupt your lunch,” he said lightly, and walked away, unaware of the warmth his touch left lingering—a spark threatening to burn through my guarded walls.
I left the cafeteria, Noah’s warmth still lingering like a spark I couldn’t shake. Back at my desk, I was buried in notes. I tried to focus, but my thoughts swirled with unease, caught in a life that felt too heavy.
“Reina, you hear about the gala tomorrow? Big deal got signed, and everyone’s gotta go whole office, no excuses.”
Her voice had that pushy cheer, like she was selling a dream.
“It’s huge, girl. Show up, be seen, or the bosses think you’re not serious.”
My stomach twisted—I liked my quiet corner, and besides I wasn't in the mood for that.
“Yeah, maybe I’ll skip,”
I mumbled, my throat tight. Sarah scoffed, leaning close.
“Skip? Reina, your contract says these events are part of the job. You want a mark against you?”
Her words stung, stirring curiosity despite my dread.
What was the gala like?
Could I handle it?
But skipping might screw me over.
Was it worth the risk?
- Writer
