Chapter 12
1188 Words
"Boss should i head back to."Anthonio froze mid-step, his attention suddenly pulled to the figure standing in front of Edward. For a moment, his thoughts scattered as he tried to figure out what was happening. His gaze shifted over to Edward, who was now watching the claire with a slight frown. Anthonio hesitated before continuing his walk forward, instinctively taking a step closer to the group, his curiosity piqued by the situation unfolding before him.
"Wait, what did you just call her?" Claire’s voice rang out with clear surprise, her eyes widening as she looked at Anthonio, her disbelief almost palpable. She blinked a few times, as if trying to process what she'd just heard. Claire's gaze darted between anthonio behind of Edward, waiting for an explanation. The confusion on her face was evident, and her eyes never left Anthonio, silently demanding an answer.
"Miss Jone," Anthonio muttered, his voice slightly strained. He hadn’t intended to say those words, but they had slipped out. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had called her that. He felt disoriented, his mind racing with questions. But the moment he spoke, he realized it didn't feel right, something about this woman just didn’t add up, and his words were as much an instinct as a mistake.
Edward, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up, his voice cold and detached as he addressed the confusion. "She's not Miss Jone," he stated flatly, his tone carrying a hint of disapproval. His eyes were narrowed as he recalled the brief, unsettling moment earlier that morning. When he first laid eyes on the woman, he'd been sure she was Caroline. The resemblance had been uncanny, same face, same stance, almost identical features. That was why he'd momentarily frozen in place. But when he had taken a step closer and seen her clearly, he had realized the mistake. The more he studied her, the more he realized that while she shared some physical traits with Caroline, she was definitely not the same person. It was as if they were two different people who simply shared a few fleeting similarities.
Anthonio, still processing Edward’s words, turned his attention to Claire more carefully. He scrutinized her features, his eyes tracing every detail. Her striking blue eyes were in stark contrast to Caroline’s familiar brown ones, and her black hair, long and dark, contrasted sharply with Caroline's golden blonde locks. Even the way she carried herself felt different, her posture more assured and confident. The realization hit him: they might look alike, but they were worlds apart in personality and demeanor.
As Anthonio continued to study her, his confusion only deepened. Who was she, really? And why had he made the connection to Miss Jone in the first place?
While they were talking, Claire couldn’t help but drift into her own thoughts. Her mind replayed the conversation from earlier this morning, the words she had said to Edward when they were alone together in his car. She thought about the tone of her voice, the way she had phrased everything. Had she been too blunt? Too cautious? She hoped she hadn’t misspoken, that she hadn’t made a fool of herself. The last thing she wanted was to have left him with the wrong impression.
"Will you stop daydreaming and come in?" Edward’s voice sliced through her reverie, breaking her thoughts. His hand gestured toward the office door, now open, as he held it for her.
Claire blinked, a little startled, and quickly pushed the stray thoughts aside. She took a hesitant step forward, unsure if she should speak up, but his voice had a way of commanding her attention. She walked in, trying her best to look composed despite the swirl of anxiety in her chest.
Outside, Anthonio stood frozen for a moment, watching in surprise as his usually stoic boss opened the door for Claire. This wasn’t something he had ever seen before. Edward, cold, calculating Edward, never showed this kind of courtesy to anyone. Not to the office staff. Not to clients. Not even to his father. So why was he doing it now? And who was she?
Anthonio’s mind raced with questions, his curiosity getting the better of him. He tried to make sense of the situation, but he couldn't quite figure it out. It was strange. Very strange.
As if reading his thoughts, though he had only glanced at Anthonio’s face, Edward turned and addressed him directly.
"You can go," Edward said, his tone low and commanding. He gave a slight nod, his eyes narrowing just enough to make the message clear: this conversation was between him and Claire, and nobody else.
Anthonio, still taken aback, hesitated for just a moment. He looked at Edward, then at Claire, before his gaze shifted downward, a quiet expression of disbelief crossing his face. Without a word, he turned on his heel and left the hallway, heading to the elevator.
Claire felt a wave of discomfort wash over her as the door shut. She knew something had just transpired, something she couldn’t quite grasp. Edward’s behavior had shifted, and now there was a tension in the air that she hadn’t expected. She swallowed hard, trying to shake off the unease that was creeping up her spine.
Edward’s voice, smooth and steady, broke the silence. "Do you just want to stand there and stare at the office all day, or do you plan to sit down?"
His words were casual, but his gaze was sharp, fixed on her. Claire startled slightly, her mind snapping back to the present. She hadn’t even realized she was standing in the middle of the room, eyes wide as she took in the enormity of Edward’s office.
It was far grander than she had anticipated, an imposing space that seemed to reflect his own personality. The walls were painted a sleek matte black, and the furniture was minimalist yet undeniably luxurious. The sharp angles of the office matched his cold, commanding demeanor, and everything about it seemed perfectly designed to make anyone feel small in his presence. Claire shifted her weight, suddenly feeling more out of place than ever.
She cleared her throat, attempting to mask the awkwardness she felt. "Sorry," she muttered, giving him a half-smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I was just... admiring your office."
Edward raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "It’s not a museum, miss. Though, I suppose I do take pride in it." His tone softened slightly, but there was still that unshakable air of authority about him.
Claire chuckled nervously, moving toward the chair in front of his desk. She sat down slowly, trying to gather her thoughts. She still felt the sting of the earlier conversation hanging in the air between them, though she didn’t know how to bring it up without making things even more uncomfortable.
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