We meet again
709 Words
The buzzing of Isabel’s phone shattered the early morning silence.
She rolled over with a groan, shielding her eyes from the thin stream of sunlight bleeding through the curtains. The screen blinked with one name:
Dad.
She hesitated.
Victor Hale didn’t call just to chat. In fact, he rarely called at all. Most of their conversations were short and always business-touched, even though he was her father. After her mother died, the emotional part of him seemed to vanish. He became more… calculated.
Still, she answered. “Hello?”
“Isabel,” came Victor’s smooth, clipped voice. “I need you to come home.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is everything okay?”
“I wouldn’t be calling if it weren’t important.”
“What’s going on?”
A pause.
“I’ll explain when you get here,” he said. “And Isabel — don’t take too long.”
Then the line went dead.
She stared at her phone, uneasy. Something about the way he spoke made her chest tighten. He had sounded like he was trying to control something slipping through his fingers. Or like he was preparing for war.
---
Isabel arrived at her father’s estate an hour later. The mansion hadn’t changed — cold marble, tall windows, and halls that echoed more than they spoke. It was beautiful, but it never felt like home.
Victor Hale was waiting in the study, standing beside a wall of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. He looked polished as ever in his navy suit, his expression unreadable.
“You came,” he said without looking at her.
“You told me to,” she replied coolly.
He finally turned. “There are people I no longer trust around me. I need someone I can.”
Isabel frowned. “Me?”
“You’re the only one not involved in all this.” He stepped closer. “I want you to start coming to the office. Sit in on meetings. Watch. Listen. Let me know if something feels off.”
“I’m not your spy.”
“You’re my daughter.”
She folded her arms. “You’ve never needed me for your business before.”
“I do now.”
The way he said it left no room for argument. Still, Isabel’s instincts screamed that there was more to this — more than business.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll come. But I’m not going to be your puppet.”
Victor gave the faintest smile. “That’s what I’ve always admired about you.”
---
Later that day, Isabel walked into Hale Corporation’s headquarters. The glass elevators, the marble floors — all familiar, yet she felt like a stranger in her own name.
The assistant at the front desk greeted her and guided her to the executive floor.
That’s where she saw him.
Standing by the elevator, dressed in black with that same quiet intensity — was the man from the café.
Jeremiah.
Their eyes met.
She stopped.
He didn’t smile. Didn’t look surprised. He only nodded slightly, as if he had expected this moment.
“You again,” she said, arms crossing.
Jeremiah’s voice was calm. “I could say the same.”
“You stalking me now?”
“I work here.”
“You—” Her mouth parted in disbelief. “You work for my father?”
His expression didn’t change, but his silence was answer enough.
Isabel took a step back. “You could’ve said something at the café.”
“You could’ve taken another seat,” he replied.
That made her blink — not because it was rude, but because it was true.
She didn’t know what bothered her more — his calmness, or how fast he was getting under her skin.
Jeremiah spoke again, softer this time. “You don’t know who I am.”
“No,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “But I’ll find out.”
She walked past him toward the boardroom, her heels clicking with more fire than before.
Jeremiah turned, watching her go.
He hadn't expected her to be so close so soon. But now, the girl he was told to stay away from was standing right in the middle of the game.
And somehow… he didn’t want her to leave.
- Writer
