Chapter 6- When the Air Changed
1749 Words
The rest of the morning moved in fragments blurred voices, rushing footsteps, and muffled conversations that carried her name when they thought she couldn’t hear. Amara felt it everywhere she walked, as if her skin were suddenly tuned to the frequency of whispers.
She wasn’t used to attention.
Attention had been the beginning of her downfall in her previous life.
Adrian’s attention especially.
She sat at her desk, pretending to scroll through files Samuel had given her, but her hands trembled slightly from the aftershock of being seen. That silent pause Adrian gave her had shaken something loose inside her. Not attraction. Not fear of him. But fear of the past is trying to reattach itself to her present.
Tasha slid into the empty seat beside her without warning.
“You haven’t fainted yet,” she observed proudly.
Amara snorted softly. “Is that the bar here? Not fainting?”
“Yes,” Tasha deadpanned. “In this company, not fainting is basically a promotion.”
She dropped her voice. “Okay, gist me. How are you feeling?”
Amara wanted to say fine. She tried to pretend unfazed. She wanted to be the version of herself who didn’t internalize everything.
Instead, she let out a shaky breath.
“Tasha… I didn’t expect any of this. I didn’t expect to talk in that meeting. I didn’t expect to get added to Phoenix. I didn’t expect”
She stopped.
Tasha angled her head. “Didn’t expect what?”
“Didn’t expect him to look at me like that,” Amara whispered.
Tasha’s eyes widened. “My sister in Christ… I KNEW I wasn’t hallucinating! That look was not ‘oh, a new staff.’ That look was ‘why do I feel like I’ve seen you before?’”
Amara stiffened.
Because that was exactly how it felt.
A strange, silent recognition.
A pull that shouldn’t exist.
Not in this life.
Not after everything.
She forced a light laugh. “Please don’t start. Maybe it was nothing.”
“Maybe it was nothing,” Tasha echoed mockingly. “Maybe you just casually broke the Alpha Curse
girl, be serious. The man doesn’t look at people. He looks through them. He treats humans like poorly designed apps.”
Amara choked on her laughter.
Tasha crossed her arms dramatically. “Even Samuel was panicking. That ‘Amara what did you do?’ sounded like confession time in church.”
Amara shook her head, rubbing her forehead. “I honestly didn’t do anything.”
“Exactly!” Tasha slapped the desk softly. “And that’s what should worry you. Because when you do nothing and the CEO starts noticing? That means your destiny is entering wildfire mode.”
Amara didn’t respond.
Not because Tasha was wrong…
But because she was too close to the truth without knowing it.
THE EMAIL
Amara’s laptop pinged.
She clicked the notification reluctantly, expecting another onboarding task.
Her heartbeat stumbled.
From: CEO Office — I. Alpha
Subject: Phoenix Project — Immediate Deliverables
Meeting Time: 2:00 PM
Location: Executive Conference Room 12B
Note: Bring your revised insights.
Tasha leaned in before Amara could even process it.
“Jesus… Amara. EXECUTIVE conference room? That’s not normal. That room is for directors, not… humans.”
Amara swallowed.
She typed a small reply:
Received. Will be there.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, second-guessing the tone.
Too formal?
Too plain?
Too… noticeable?
She hit send before she could spiral.
She had promised herself:
No fear.
No trembling.
No repeating the past.
But the truth crept in quietly
She wasn’t afraid of Adrian.
She was afraid of fate.
Because the last time fate tangled her with him, she didn’t survive.
By the time lunch arrived, Amara felt like she had lived three days in three hours.
Tasha dragged her to the cafeteria. “Come and eat before you dissolve into thin air.”
The space buzzed with noise cutlery clashing, conversations floating, the aroma of jollof rice and fried chicken filling the air. It felt normal. Human. Ordinary.
Something her life desperately needed.
They settled at a corner table. Tasha talked while eating aggressively, multitasking gossip and chicken like a pro.
“So… Phoenix,” she said between bites. “That is insane. The last person added to that project ended up traveling with Adrian for conferences.”
Amara’s spoon stopped mid-air.
Travel?
With Adrian?
No. Absolutely not.
“Tasha,” she said slowly, “I just want to do my work quietly. Nothing more.”
Tasha blinked. Then burst into laughter.
A loud, dramatic, genuine laugh.
“Work quietly??? In THIS company? Amara please, be serious!” She wiped the corner of her eye. “You can’t be invisible here. This place doesn’t even allow staff to breathe quietly.”
Amara sighed into her food.
Tasha leaned closer. “Just be ready. Being noticed by him… it changes things.”
Amara stiffened. “I don’t want things to change.”
Tasha studied her with a rare seriousness crossing her playful features.
“What are you afraid of?”
Everything, Amara thought.
Repeating the past.
Losing herself again.
Trusting the wrong person.
Dying a second time.
But she only said
“I’m afraid of making mistakes.”
Tasha’s expression softened. “Then don’t. But don’t run from your own abilities either.”
Amara swallowed hard.
Before she could respond, a voice rose from nearby:
“Is that the girl from the meeting?”
Two employees glanced toward their table.
“The CEO literally said her work was accurate.”
“Imagine getting praise on your first day.”
Amara quickly lowered her gaze, her stomach tightening.
Tasha rolled her eyes. “Ignore them. They’re confused praise-starved chickens.”
Amara chuckled weakly.
But the whispers kept coming.
And the weight of them settled over her like thick fog.
THE WALK BACK
They returned to the office after lunch. The hallway hummed with post-break energy people clutching coffee cups, rushing to beat deadlines, muttering frustrations under their breath.
Samuel waved her over.
“Amara, are you ready for the 2 p.m. session? I’ll walk you there.”
She nodded quietly.
Tasha wiggled her brows. “Don’t die. Don’t faint. Don’t fall.”
Amara responded with a small smile. “I’ll try.”
They stepped into the hallway.
At first, everything felt normal.
Then the energy shifted softly but undeniably.
A ripple through the air.
Posture straightening.
Silence tightening.
Amara knew that feeling now.
Adrian was close.
She didn’t look. She refused to look. But her skin sensed it the heaviness, the precision of his movements, the cold calm around him.
She bit the inside of her cheek, keeping her head down.
Samuel halted subtly.
Adrian approached with two executives trailing behind him. His suit was charcoal grey today, tailored within an inch of perfection. His presence commanded attention without trying.
Just as he passed, his gaze flicked
once,
sharply,
toward Amara.
There was no expression.
No frown.
No recognition.
But something paused inside him.
A fracture in his own certainty.
A flicker he didn’t understand.
And Amara felt it.
Samuel cleared his throat, almost like releasing tension for both of them.
“Come on… 12B is this way.”
Amara followed, her chest tightening.
Why did he look at her?
Why was she on his radar at all?
Why was fate so determined to push them back into the same orbit?
She whispered to herself
“Stay focused… stay focused…”
But the tremor in her voice betrayed her.
Conference Room 12B wasn’t like the strategy hall.
It was colder.
Quieter.
Sharper than everything inside it was too expensive to touch.
Samuel gave her a reassuring nod before leaving to join another session.
Amara sat at the far end of the table, clutching her folder.
People filed in as directors, team leads, and operations heads.
Then, the last person entered the room.
Adrian.
The atmosphere reconfigured itself instantly.
He took the seat at the head of the table silent, composed, unreadable. His eyes scanned the room once with the precision of someone who noticed everything.
His gaze brushed over her briefly.
Not long enough to be alarming
but not short enough to be accidental.
The meeting started.
Numbers. Charts. Critiques.
Adrian’s voice remained calm, crisp, unforgiving.
Then
“Consumer sentiments,” he said, eyes lowering to the agenda.
Amara’s heart skipped.
That was her section.
She stood, legs steady only because she forced them to be. She walked to the screen, plugged in her device, and inhaled slowly.
She lifted her eyes.
Straight into his.
Her voice didn’t tremble.
“My analysis covers behavioral shifts across Q2…”
She spoke with confidence she hadn’t felt in years.
She explained patterns, highlighted inconsistencies, and offered solutions she never dared to say before.
And the entire time
Adrian watched her.
Not unprofessionally.
Not emotionally.
But intensely.
As if something about her presentation tugged at something buried deep. Something he didn’t recognize yet, but couldn’t look away from either.
Amara pushed through her slide, breath controlled, hands steady on the clicker.
She finished.
Silence held the room hostage.
And then
Adrian nodded once.
“Your evaluation is accurate.”
A ripple moved across the room shock disguised as professionalism.
Adrian Alpha did not praise lightly.
He did not praise often.
He barely praised at all.
“Continue refining it,” he added. “You’ll join the leads for next week’s review.”
Amara’s chest tightened.
She bowed her head slightly. “Yes, sir.”
His gaze lingered a heartbeat longer.
Then he turned away, resuming the meeting.
But she felt it.
Something had shifted.
Something subtle.
Something dangerous.
After the meeting,
People rushed out, whispering.
Samuel found her outside the door, eyes wide.
“Amara… what exactly did you do in that room?”
“Nothing,” she said quietly.
“Exactly,” he whispered. “And that is the most terrifying answer.”
He walked off, shaking his head in disbelief.
Amara leaned against the wall for a moment, breathing slowly. The weight in her chest refused to lift.
She whispered to herself
“Don’t fall. Don’t repeat the same mistake.”
But deep down, another voice whispered:
What if you don’t get a choice this time?
She picked up her notebook, held it tightly, and walked back toward her desk.
But even with her head down, she could feel it
Fate was circling again.
And Adrian Alpha…
Whether he understood it or not…
Had already begun gravitating towards her..
- Writer
