9: HandInHand,EyeToEye
1769 Words
"She’s my girlfriend.”
The words still hung in the air, sharp and unmistakable.
Alessia barely breathed.
For a single, disoriented second, the entire boutique seemed to still. Veronica and her friends exchanged glances, their initial amusement twisting into something else entirely—shock, disbelief, quiet calculation.
Theo’s grip was still steady around her fingers, firm yet effortless, as if he had every right to be touching her.
Alessia’s pulse stuttered. What the hell was he doing?
She opened her mouth, the instinctive need to deny the ridiculous claim rising in her throat. But before she could so much as form the words, Theo spoke over her.
“I asked, got a problem with that?”
His voice was soft. Deceptively smooth. But there was an edge to it—a quiet authority that demanded an answer.
Veronica’s gaze snapped to Alessia, sharp and assessing.
Alessia didn’t look away fast enough.
The scrutiny in Veronica’s eyes burned—unspoken questions layered beneath condescension. Was this real? Was she really dating Theo Lennox? Or was this just another pathetic attempt to climb where she didn’t belong?
Alessia clenched her jaw and turned her head, refusing to let the weight of that gaze press down on her.
A quiet scoff. Then, almost lazily, Veronica muttered, “What an odd couple.”
The words were light, dismissive. But Alessia didn’t miss the undercurrent of disbelief—of defense.
Because Theo had just ruined whatever twisted power play Veronica had been enjoying.
And she knew it.
Still, she tilted her chin up, trying to salvage some kind of control.
Theo, however, had none of her patience. “The coat.” His voice was quiet, even. But the command was unmistakable.
Veronica hesitated for half a second too long. Then, with visible reluctance, she crouched down, snatched the coat off the floor, and shoved it back into the shopping bag.
She didn’t look at Alessia again.
Instead, she turned on her heel, shooting one last glance at Theo.
“You must be losing your standards, Lennox,” she said, a final, weak attempt to reclaim her pride.
Theo didn’t react. Didn’t flinch.
Didn’t even spare her a glance.
“Leave.”
Veronica’s jaw tightened. But she knew better than to push further.
With a clipped nod to her friends, she strode away, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. The other two women followed, their laughter forced and hollow as they disappeared down the boutique’s aisles.
And just like that, it was quiet again.
Alessia exhaled, only just realizing how tightly she had been holding her breath.
Then—
Warm fabric brushed her fingertips.
She looked down.
Theo was folding her shopping bag, smoothing out the creases with an almost lazy precision.
The sight was so at odds with everything she knew of him—this ruthless, untouchable man standing in the middle of a luxury boutique, casually handling her purchase like he had all the time in the world.
Something sharp settled in her chest.
Her gaze drifted—then caught on something else.
His hand. Still wrapped around hers.
Heat curled up her spine, and before she could stop herself, she tore her hand away.
“What—” Her voice came out sharp, unsteady. She swallowed. “What the hell was that?”
Theo didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he handed her the shopping bag, his expression unreadable.
Alessia took it, fingers curling around the handles, irritation spiking beneath her skin.
“I said,” she pressed, voice lowering, “what the hell was that?”
Theo exhaled. A slow, measured breath.
Then—
“She was being a nuisance.”
Alessia’s lips parted. A breath of disbelief slipped out. “That’s it?”
He met her gaze, calm, composed. “That’s it.”
Alessia stared at him, pulse drumming against her skin.
This man.
This impossible, insufferable man.
“You don’t just say things like that, Theo,” she said, voice clipped. “You don’t just—just declare someone your girlfriend out of nowhere.”
He tilted his head, blue eyes glinting with something almost amused. “Why not?”
“Why not—?” Alessia nearly choked.
Was he serious?
The frustration, the confusion, the residual anger from Veronica’s humiliation—it all simmered beneath her skin, tangled together in one volatile mess.
She inhaled sharply, trying to regain some semblance of control.
Then, as if realizing something, her gaze narrowed.
“…What are you even doing here?”
Theo arched a brow.
“In a boutique,” she clarified.
A woman’s boutique.
Of all the places in the city, of all the places where she could have run into him after his unexplained absence—why here?
Theo didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his smirk widened, as if amused by her curiosity.
“Had someone to meet? Or maybe I'm just scouting my next acquisition,” he said with a teasing glint in his eyes.
Alessia’s gaze faltered, a brief flicker of confusion passing over her before her fingers tightened around her shopping bag.
Theo didn’t miss it. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice with a quiet, almost mocking tone.
“Or are you worried I might be here to buy the place out from under you?”
Alessia’s breath caught, a tight knot forming in her chest.
She turned. She needed to leave.
Before she let him see anything that could give him leverage.
But—
“I’ll walk you out.”
Alessia’s brows pulled together. “What?”
Theo was already turning, hands slipping into his coat pockets, utterly unbothered. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
Alessia hesitated.
There it was again.
That casual, effortless authority.
Like it was a foregone conclusion that she would walk with him.
And, damn it, she didn’t want to.
She didn’t want to be near him any longer than necessary.
She didn’t want to feel whatever this was—the heat of his presence, the weight of his words, the way he got under her skin so damn easily.
But—
He had just saved her from Veronica.
And—however infuriating it was—he had just defended her.
Even if she didn’t know why.
Her lips pressed together.
Then, begrudgingly—
“Fine.”
She strode forward, steps brisk, movements sharp.
Theo followed.
~~~
The crisp evening air greeted them as they stepped out of the boutique. The streets were still alive—city’s golden lights, couples strolling past, business types rushing to evening meetings, the occasional hum of car engines slicing through the urban lull.
Alessia pulled her coat tighter around herself.
The cold bit through the thin fabric, but she barely noticed it. Not when Theo Lennox was walking beside her, quiet and composed, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark wool coat.
She stole a glance at him—just a brief one.
And immediately regretted it.
Because he looked—
Different.
Not in an obvious way. He was still Theo Lennox—towering, polished, exuding a presence that made people instinctively take a step back. But something was off.
His usually sleek, perfectly styled hair was undone, with the dark strands falling loosely over his forehead. He still looked sharp, still carried that ridiculous aura of control—but there was something almost… unguarded about him.
Worse, he looked a little pale.
Not much. Just enough that it made her wonder.
Had he been sick?
The thought barely formed before she shoved it away, schooling her expression.
Not her business.
Not her problem.
And she was definitely not about to admit that she noticed anything about him beyond what was necessary.
She snapped her gaze forward, focusing instead on the cool pavement beneath her heels.
But curiosity still gnawed at her.
A week.
That’s how long it had been since she had last seen him—since their usual back-and-forth had been abruptly put on hold. No public appearances, no boardroom battles, no unexpected encounters in places he shouldn’t be.
It wasn’t normal.
And she hated that she wanted to ask.
That she wanted to know.
Instead, she went for something else.
Something safer.
Something that still carried an edge of challenge.
“You know,” she mused, keeping her voice casual, “it’s impressive how you don’t even have to be present to pull the strings.”
She didn’t look at him.
But she didn’t need to.
Because she felt it.
The shift.
The way his attention—already loosely resting on her—suddenly sharpened, as if replaying her words.
As if realizing that she had noticed.
Not just his absence.
But the weight of it.
The corner of Theo’s mouth twitched—just slightly.
And weirdly, that acknowledgment—silent, almost imperceptible—settled something in him.
But he didn’t show it.
Instead, he replied smoothly, “I thought you’d be used to that by now.”
Alessia let out a sharp breath of laughter.
Right. Of course.
She glanced up at him again, this time with nothing but challenge in her gaze.
“I am,” she said. “But even for you, it was impressive. Filing a motion against my team while off the grid? Bold.”
Theo smirked. “I don’t need to be in the room to win, Sinclair.”
Alessia rolled her eyes. “Classic Lennox arrogance.”
He chuckled—a low, quiet sound. “Classic Sinclair defiance.”
She hated the way his voice curled around her name.
Like he liked saying it.
Like it meant something.
She looked away again, jaw tightening.
A breeze swept through the street, colder than before. Alessia barely reacted, too focused on keeping her expression indifferent. But Theo noticed.
Noticed the way her fingers curled slightly into her coat.
Noticed the faint shadows beneath her hazel eyes, the exhaustion lingering at the edges of her sharp defiance.
Noticed, and almost—almost—said something.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he simply walked a little slower.
Subtle.
Unnoticeable.
Just enough to match her pace.
And when they reached the main road, where their paths would inevitably diverge—
“Where were you?”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Soft.
Uncertain.
And maybe—maybe—too honest.
Then he stopped.
Theo turned his head, blue eyes glinting under the streetlights.
For a second, just a second, something flickered there.
Something unreadable. Something almost vulnerable.
Then, just as quickly, it was gone.
And he smirked. “Missed me?”
Alessia’s pulse stuttered. Her face burned.
And she absolutely, unequivocally hated him.
***
- Writer
