Chapter Five
966 Words
Priorities.
I couldn’t care less about whatever business that woman had with Alexander. I just needed to finish this sandwich I ordered. Paulina’s Diner serves the best in the city. After all that’s happened I decided I needed a break. Like literally—Mr. Grayson had demanded I take sometime off even if it was just for some few hours to myself and relax my nerves.
I guess that’s all I needed. The weather’s hot, the kind that left the air heavy and clinging, even inside Paulina’s Diner where the old ceiling fan spun lazily above. I was stirring my iced tea with the end of my straw, half-lost in my thoughts, when he slid into the booth across from me like he belonged there.
I take my coat off and the next time I turn to finish off my sandwich, it found itself in the hands of the stranger. He takes a bit all the while maintaining eye contact with me like he was mocking my inability to take drastic action. I match his gaze, taking in his appearance.
Light skinned with a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, chubby cheeks with freckles and ocean blue eyes.
His long coat gives him off as a man who doesn’t want to be noticed—but always is.
No introduction. No smile. Just a stranger in a dark coat, his presence quiet but somehow commanding, like the air shifted around him—which it did.
I blinked. “Do I know you?”
“No,” he said. “But I know you, Isabella Grey.”
The way he said my name—calm, deliberate—sent a chill up my spine, despite the heat outside. I sat up straighter. “Okay… and who exactly are you?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he glanced around the diner, scanning every movement with a sharpness that made my skin crawl.
“You’ve been spending time with Alexander.” he said. Not a question.
I froze. “How do you—?”
“I don’t ask questions I already know the answers to.”
My stomach tightened. “Are you following me?”
“If I were,” he said, voice low and flat, “you wouldn’t have seen me.”
My heart kicked. This guy was serious—too calm, too precise. Everything about him felt… off. Calculated. But what unsettled me most wasn’t what he said—it was how certain he was.
“I’m not sure what this is,” I said slowly, “but if you’re trying to scare me—”
“I’m trying to warn you.”
His eyes locked onto mine, dark and unreadable. “You’re standing too close to something, someone you don’t understand. Alexander plays the charming puppet master well, but he’s a minor storm compared to what’s coming. And the fact that he’s keeping you close? That makes you a target.” He takes another bite of my sandwich and closes his eyes in what seems like delight, pleasure?
“Haven’t you wondered why all of a sudden you were involved in that overwhelming charity event?” He says with a mouthful.
I stared at him, mouth dry. “What kind of target?”
He leaned forward slightly, the diner lights casting just enough glow on his face to make him look like a shadow with a pulse. “There are people—powerful ones—who don’t like Alexander’s games. You’re in his space now, which means you’re in theirs too. Whether you know it or not.”
I swallowed hard. “And who are you to be telling me all this?”
He smirked, but it didn’t touch his eyes. “Let’s just say I used to be part of the problem.”
I didn’t know what that meant—but I knew he wasn’t lying.
He stood without warning, like he had already said more than he wanted to.
“Be careful, Isabella,” he said, sliding his hands into his coat pockets. “You’re walking into something much bigger than you think. And when it unfolds, he won’t be the one bleeding first. We’ll meet again, when we’re less watched.”
Then he walked out, disappearing into the afternoon heat as if the moment had never happened.
But the weight of his words stayed behind—cold and coiled in my chest. He had left a note with what I assumed what his number. I hope I don’t need to call him.
Alexander’s POV.
“Victor. That sly bastard is up to something— he always is.” I run my hands through my hair.
“He’s going to destroy you from the inside. That’s why he offered a partnership, as short as it may be, he’s going to leverage on it.” Elle says with her eyes glinting with a feeling I know too well.
I stand up and face her, feeling the need to be suspicious and menacing. “Why’re you really here, Elle?” My face now cold and unreadable.
She snorts feeling offended. “s**t! You think I’m doing this because I want to help you? Last time I checked, Alexander, you f****d me, you f*****g bastard. You stabbed me in the back and here you are thinking I’m helping you.” I could feel the tension rising through the room and I relaxed a bit, feeling guilty but remained unmoved.
The words left my lips before I could hold them back, “Leave.”
“I won’t. I’m not here for you, Alex.”
“Then what are you here for?”
“As a matter of fact, “who”, not “what”. “ She said. My eyebrows furrow. “I’m here for Isabella, Ethan’s ex girlfriend.”
- Writer
