Between Two Worlds
1063 Words
I couldn’t think. I barely heard his last sentence. The instant shock that came with the kiss, alongside the smoothness and the heat that followed, overpowered my will. It was short, quick, and felt like a fairytale stolen in reality. He drew back suddenly, as if surprised by his own actions, gave me one last glance filled with disbelief, and exited my office.
I stood frozen, my lips tingling. What had just happened? It felt like a dream, yet his taste lingered on my mouth. I was losing it.
Later that day, Adrian, his men, and I sat in his car on our way to the WhiteWing Estate. The car was silent. The silence was so thick you could slice through it. I sat by Adrian’s side, sneaking glances as he worked on his tablet with a calm neutrality that maddened me. How could he remain so composed when I was unraveling inside?
I forced myself to look out the window. If he wasn’t going to acknowledge it, then neither would I. I was a professional, and I would act like one.
The gates to WhiteWing Estate opened, revealing buildings that carried the WhiteWing signature blend of royalty and status. Each property was magnificent, but one stood taller, prouder, as though it had been crafted to outshine the rest.
The car stopped before it. The walls gleamed, stone mixed with paint that caught the light like polished armor. The roof sat heavy and dark, protective yet unyielding, while long windows stretched like watchful eyes across the façade. At night, they said, those windows glowed as though the house itself breathed.
The front doors were carved from heavy wood, towering and solemn. A short set of wide steps turned every entrance into a ceremony. The driveway curved gracefully, lined with tall palms and clipped hedges, leading to a fountain that splashed steadily. Calm but commanding, a reminder of the estate’s weight.
Inside, the living room spread beneath high ceilings, polished marble floors echoing every step. Dark wood furniture sat with deliberate precision, and a staircase curved upward, its iron and brass railing gleaming like gold veins.
“Wait here while I get changed,” Adrian instructed coolly before climbing the stairs.
I perched on the edge of a chair, suddenly small in the vastness. For a moment, I wondered if the property Charlie had left me could ever compare. Would it be just as grand? Or had he left me something more humble?
Twenty minutes passed before an elderly maid appeared with wine. I accepted gratefully, realizing I hadn’t eaten all day. I lifted the glass, only to nearly choke when Adrian returned.Hair damp, clad in a robe that revealed his sculpted chest. He descended like a man who knew his power, his eyes fixed on me.
He sat down casually, pouring his own glass. “What are you looking at?”
My throat tightened as I swallowed. “N-nothing. I was just hungry.”
His brow arched. “Would you care to join me for dinner then?”
Unexpected. Almost human. But then, Adrian Adams thrived on being unpredictable.
“Sure,” I replied softly.
Dinner was a feast. Every bite was perfection, and I ate faster than I should have. Adrian’s gaze lingered on me the entire time.
“Never in my life have I seen a lady eat so uncultured,” he teased, carving his steak with deliberate elegance.
Too full to be embarrassed, I simply smiled. He seemed more amused than offended.
After dinner, we delved into documents. I explained competitors, investors, partnerships, everything I had gathered over the years. To my surprise, he listened intently, asking sharp questions. It was all business again, as though the kiss had never happened.
By the time we finished, exhaustion pulled at me. Adrian leaned back, studying me with unnerving intensity.
“I must say, you’re more impressive than I thought. No wonder my father kept you close. He shaped you into what he wanted.” He reached forward, lightly gripping my chin. His voice dropped. “Now it’s my turn.”
A shiver ran down my spine before he released me and dismissed me for the night.
I arrived home late and collapsed on my bed.
The next morning dawned cloudy, the breeze cool and damp. The reminder struck me like a bell, I had to move.
My current bungalow was perfect. Cozy, modern, furnished to my taste. But Adrian’s order still echoed in my head. Was I moving because of my job… or because of him? The thought unsettled me.
I began packing. Jimmy promised to help after his styling work, though he made sure to grumble about it. While waiting, I put on music and let myself dance, wild, silly, free. For a while, I wasn’t Adrian’s assistant or Charlie’s loyal protégé. I was just me.
When Jimmy finally arrived, his jaw dropped.
“How long have you been watching?” I gasped, breathless.
“Long enough to know you’ve got moves,” he teased.
We laughed, but his eyes sharpened. “Ready to move into your prince charming’s castle?”
“You’re not sounding like your usual objective self,” I challenged.
“I decided to trust you know what you’re doing. But don’t expect me to like that psycho. He hates me, and the feeling’s mutual.”
I brushed it off, refusing to let his words stir doubts I already battled.
Soon, we arrived at the estate. I used the access card Adrian had given me, leading us past his towering home until we stopped before mine.
This duplex flaunted wealth openly. A fleet of sleek cars lined the driveway like trophies. Inside, sunlight poured through wide windows, illuminating polished wooden floors and open, airy spaces. Unlike Adrian’s solemn mansion, this house was warm, visible, alive.
Jimmy whistled low. “You’re one lucky girl, Flora.”
I set my boxes down, murmuring, “Why this house, Charlie? Why me?”
Upstairs, I stumbled into a room styled like royalty, its bathroom gleaming. Relief came first, admiration second. Then the ache.
This wasn’t just a house, it was his parting gift. A reminder that I wasn’t forgotten. Tears threatened, but I swallowed them down. Not here. Not now.
When I returned downstairs, my heart nearly stopped.
Jimmy stood at the door, frozen.
And opposite him, Adrian.
Face to face.
- Writer
