Unpredictable Love

Chapter 2: Define her innocent

Zhe's POV ;

Being known as a CEO at the age of thirty-five was never as easy as people imagined.

From the outside, success looked effortless.

A handsome young entrepreneur.

A successful businessman.

A man who could travel whenever he wanted, stay wherever he pleased, and make decisions without having to answer to anyone.

People saw the luxury.

They saw the expensive cars, the beautiful places, the company branches, the articles in magazines, and the numbers attached to my name.

What they didn't see were the years it took to build all of it.

Success required time.

Sacrifice.

Discipline.

And, more than anything, the willingness to keep moving when everyone else thought you should stop.

I was fortunate to be born into a wealthy family. I never denied that privilege.

But being born into money didn't mean I wanted to spend the rest of my life following someone else's path.

My family's business was successful, but it wasn't the career I dreamed of.

I wanted something different.

I wanted freedom.

I didn't want to wake up every morning just to sit behind a desk from eight in the morning until five in the evening, watching the clock and waiting for the day to end.

That kind of life was never meant for me.

I wanted my own time.

My own rules.

My own direction.

I wanted to be able to wake up in another city, enjoy breakfast overlooking a beautiful landscape, and still know that my businesses were running without me having to be physically present.

I wanted my money to work for me while I worked on the things that mattered to me.

And I wanted to build something bigger than a company.

I wanted connections.

Real connections.

Every city I visited became another opportunity to meet people, understand businesses, build partnerships, and create relationships that could eventually grow into something valuable.

Some people collected souvenirs when they traveled.

I collected possibilities.

That was how I built my network.

That was how I built my empire.

And eventually, the results began speaking for themselves.

By the time I reached thirty-five, I had become a name people recognized.

My stories had appeared in local magazines.

My businesses had expanded into several branches across the country.

Within a year, I had managed to build capital worth millions.

People knew my name.

Zhe Yong.

Young entrepreneur.

CEO.

Businessman.

The man who seemed to have everything.

I had met people from almost every major city I had visited. Some respected me because of what I had achieved. Some admired my work. Others simply enjoyed having me around.

Many of them eventually treated me like family.

Yet, ironically, beneath all the success, I was still a lonely man.

Not lonely because I had nobody.

I had friends.

Good ones.

People I could call at two in the morning.

People who would sit with me over drinks and listen to my problems.

People who knew how to make me laugh when I was tired of being serious.

But friendship was different from love.

And love was something I had deliberately kept out of my life.

At least for now.

I never intended to start a relationship anytime soon.

My lifestyle simply didn't allow it.

I was busy.

My schedule changed constantly.

I traveled often.

Meetings appeared without warning.

Business dinners could stretch into midnight.

Sometimes I would disappear for days simply because an opportunity required me to be somewhere else.

What woman would willingly accept that?

Eventually, she would accuse me of being arrogant.

She would say I didn't care.

She would say I took her for granted.

And perhaps she would be right.

I knew myself well enough to admit that.

I didn't want to promise someone my time when I wasn't sure I could give it.

I didn't want to become the man who made a woman fall in love with him only to disappoint her because his priorities were elsewhere.

So I stayed single.

My friends, of course, refused to accept that decision.

Especially Alex.

Alex had appointed himself as my personal matchmaker.

Whenever we went out, he would point out women as though he were presenting potential candidates for a position.

"Look at her."

"She's beautiful."

"She's single."

"She's exactly your type."

Sometimes I wondered whether he thought I was incapable of finding a woman myself.

He often invited me to his club, where there were always beautiful women, loud music, expensive drinks, and enough temptation to keep most men entertained until sunrise.

I never judged those women.

People were too quick to label women simply because they worked in places like that.

To me, they were still women.

Everyone had a story.

Everyone had their own reasons for being where they were.

Some people were lucky enough to live the life they wanted.

Others had to fight desperately for every opportunity.

Some had to sacrifice more than anyone would ever know just to survive.

I had met many different kinds of people through nightlife.

Some frightened me with their stories.

Some surprised me with their strength.

Some knew exactly how to use charm and seduction to get what they wanted.

And some were simply looking for someone who would listen.

Nightclubs were strange places.

People entered wearing masks and left revealing pieces of themselves.

A confident man could become insecure after a few drinks.

A quiet woman could become fearless under flashing lights.

A stranger could become a friend before sunrise.

And sometimes, a person you never expected to notice...

could suddenly become the only person you could see.

That was where I met her.

Irene Natalie.

The woman who was, technically, not my type.

At least, that's what I told myself.

She wasn't the kind of woman I normally noticed.

I had always imagined myself with someone confident.

A woman who knew exactly what she wanted.

Sassy.

Classy.

Independent.

Someone who could stand beside me without needing to hide behind me.

Someone who could challenge me.

Someone who could make me laugh.

Someone who could look me directly in the eyes and refuse to be intimidated.

I wanted a woman with a strong personality.

A woman who could match my energy instead of simply following it.

But Irene...

She was different.

The first time I saw her, I couldn't explain why she caught my attention.

She wasn't trying to attract anyone.

She wasn't dressed to make people stare.

She didn't behave as though she needed attention.

In fact, she seemed determined not to receive any.

And perhaps that was exactly why I noticed her.

There was something quiet about her.

Something almost untouched.

Innocent.

But I wasn't sure whether it was genuine innocence or simply the way she wanted people to perceive her.

That question stayed in my mind.

At first, I looked at her and thought,

If I let this woman into my life, she'll probably become troublesome.

She seemed like the type who could ruin my perfectly organized day without even trying.

Yet the more I observed her, the more curious I became.

She had a delicate face.

A quiet manner.

And a figure that somehow contradicted the innocent impression she gave.

There was something naturally attractive about her.

Not manufactured.

Not desperate.

Just... there.

She looked like someone who had grown up away from the noise and excess of the city.

Someone who had learned to appreciate simple things.

And perhaps that was what intrigued me most.

I wanted to know what was behind that innocence.

What kind of woman was she when nobody was watching?

Was she really as gentle as she appeared?

Or was there something stronger hidden beneath all that softness?

I wanted to find out.

I wanted her.

The realization came more quickly than I expected.

And that annoyed me.

Because I had no intention of wanting anyone.

---

The first time Irene spoke to me, I almost smiled.

"Hey."

I turned toward her.

She had finally noticed me.

After several times of passing by her, pretending not to care, I had finally succeeded in getting her attention.

I could feel my heart beating slightly faster.

Not because I was nervous.

At least, that's what I told myself.

I simply found it amusing.

She had finally decided to speak.

"Hi."

I kept my answer short.

I didn't want to give her too much.

Not yet.

She asked me something else.

I answered briefly again.

Then I gave her a small smirk before walking away.

I could almost feel her irritation following me.

And secretly, I enjoyed it.

I wanted to tease her.

I wanted to see whether that innocent expression would disappear when she became annoyed.

I wanted to know what she looked like when she was angry.

What made her laugh.

What made her nervous.

What made her lose control.

But more than anything...

I wanted to know what made her heart beat.

I knew better than to rush.

If I wanted Irene's attention, I had to earn it slowly.

A little curiosity today.

A little conversation tomorrow.

A little mystery in between.

I smiled to myself as I walked away.

Tomorrow.

I couldn't wait for tomorrow.

---

I rarely liked going to nightclubs early.

If I had a choice, I would rather escape the chaos of the city and find somewhere surrounded by nature.

Give me a quiet view, a glass of wine, and enough space to breathe, and I would be perfectly satisfied.

But that day, I deliberately changed my plans.

I called Alex.

"I have something to discuss with you."

It was true.

Just not the whole truth.

I had something to discuss with Alex.

But that wasn't the only reason I went to Mr. Vick's place.

I wanted to see her.

I wanted to see Irene again.

I didn't tell Alex that.

There was no reason to.

When we arrived, Alex and I were talking near one of the tables.

Then I heard footsteps.

Soft.

Familiar.

I knew who it was before I looked.

I pretended not to notice.

I continued talking to Alex.

But Alex noticed.

Of course he did.

When Irene passed us, he squeezed my hand and waved toward her.

I lifted my chin slightly.

There she was.

Irene.

She looked exactly as she had before.

Simple.

Nothing extravagant.

Her clothes weren't designed to attract attention.

Her appearance was almost plain compared with the women who usually occupied this place.

And yet...

my eyes stayed on her.

I noticed the way she tried not to look at us.

The way her face shifted slightly when she realized I was there.

She seemed uncomfortable.

Interesting.

I wondered whether she remembered yesterday.

Perhaps my short answers had irritated her.

The thought amused me.

Alex was about to call her over when Mr. Vick suddenly called her name.

"Irene."

She turned.

And something immediately caught my attention.

The way she looked at him.

The familiarity between them.

They spoke as though they had known each other for years.

There was no awkwardness.

No hesitation.

No formal distance between employer and employee.

They seemed...

close.

Too close for my liking.

I watched them from across the room.

Why were they so comfortable with each other?

How long had they known each other?

What exactly was their relationship?

I narrowed my eyes.

Could she be his woman?

The thought came unexpectedly.

I didn't like it.

Not even slightly.

I didn't understand why.

I barely knew Irene.

She wasn't mine.

She had never been mine.

So why did the possibility bother me?

I tried to dismiss the thought.

But my eyes remained fixed on them.

Irene's expression kept changing as she talked.

Sometimes she smiled.

Sometimes she looked serious.

Sometimes her eyes dropped toward the floor.

She seemed to be telling Mr. Vick something personal.

And then I wondered whether she was still affected by our conversation the day before.

Had I irritated her?

Had she been thinking about me?

The possibility made something inside me smile.

Then suddenly, Irene gasped.

I couldn't hear what Mr. Vick had said.

But I saw her reaction.

And for some reason, I found it amusing.

I almost laughed.

She was adorable when surprised.

The conversation continued for nearly twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes.

I knew because I kept checking.

Eventually, they hugged.

Mr. Vick patted her back affectionately.

Then Irene walked away.

I watched her disappear.

Only after she was gone did I realize how much attention I had been giving her.

Alex looked at me.

I avoided his eyes.

He knew.

That was dangerous.

Because Alex knew me too well.

A few minutes later, Mr. Vick came over and joined us.

I decided to take the opportunity.

"So..."

I leaned back casually.

"You really know how to keep a girl comfortable at your place."

I laughed.

Alex immediately joined in.

"It's normal for him, Zhe. A big boss with a good-looking face? Who wouldn't want him?"

He grinned.

"Which ant doesn't want sugar?"

Mr. Vick laughed.

"What are you two talking about?"

I looked at him.

"How many women do you actually have?"

Mr. Vick burst out laughing.

"Numerous."

He shook his head dramatically.

"So many that sometimes I forget their names."

Alex laughed.

I laughed too.

The conversation became lighter.

For a moment, I forgot why I had actually asked.

Or at least, I pretended to.

Then I couldn't resist.

"Why do you keep so many secrets?"

I looked directly at Mr. Vick.

"Especially when it comes to women."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Since when do you care so much about my love life?"

I opened my mouth.

Before I could answer, Alex leaned toward me.

"Hmm..."

His eyes narrowed.

"I smell something fishy."

I stared at him.

"What?"

"Why are you so interested in her?"

I acted offended.

"Who said I'm interested?"

Alex laughed.

"You've been watching her since she walked in."

"I was simply observing."

"Sure."

Mr. Vick laughed at both of us.

Then he finally explained.

"She's not some secret lover of mine."

I relaxed without realizing it.

Mr. Vick continued.

"I've known Irene for about ten years."

My eyebrows lifted.

"Ten years?"

He nodded.

"I met her when she was around twenty, if I remember correctly."

He smiled.

"She's a very polite and kind girl. She came from the city, though she's always had that quiet, humble manner."

I listened carefully.

Every word.

He continued talking about her.

And I realized something.

Mr. Vick spoke about Irene differently from how he spoke about most people.

There was genuine affection in his voice.

Like family.

Not romance.

Family.

For some reason, I felt relieved.

I tried not to show it.

Mr. Vick suddenly smiled.

"If you're really interested in getting to know her, I can call her over."

I immediately answered.

"Sure."

Alex looked at me.

I caught myself.

"Sounds interesting."

I cleared my throat.

"But not tonight."

Mr. Vick looked amused.

"Why not?"

"I called Alex here because we have something to discuss. We're not here just to have fun."

Alex quickly supported me.

"Exactly."

He nodded.

"I'm tired too. I have other things to take care of afterward."

Mr. Vick laughed.

"Fine."

He raised his glass.

"Come anytime. Just call me."

"I will."

I smiled.

"Definitely."

We continued talking for a while.

But deep inside, I was already somewhere else.

My mind was with Irene.

Everything had happened much more easily than I expected.

I had gone there hoping only to see her.

Instead, I had learned something important.

Mr. Vick knew her.

He had known her for ten years.

And now, I had a reason to approach her without making my intentions seem too obvious.

It was almost too convenient.

I leaned back in my chair.

A slow smile appeared on my face.

Sometimes, life had a strange way of opening doors.

And that day, one had just opened.

---

On the drive home, I couldn't stop thinking about her.

Irene.

Her name sounded different in my head now.

Before, she had simply been the quiet girl working at Mr. Vick's place.

Now she had a history.

A past.

A story.

And I wanted to know it.

I wanted to understand why she carried herself the way she did.

Why she looked strong while sometimes appearing so fragile.

Why she seemed determined to hide whatever was happening inside her.

I wondered what she had been through.

I wondered whether someone had hurt her.

And I wondered why the thought of another man hurting her bothered me.

I shook my head.

This was getting ridiculous.

I barely knew her.

Yet my curiosity was growing stronger by the hour.

Maybe it was because she didn't behave like the women I was accustomed to.

Most people who met me already knew who I was.

They knew my name.

My businesses.

My money.

My reputation.

They knew what I could offer them.

Irene seemed different.

She didn't appear impressed.

She didn't chase my attention.

She didn't flirt with me.

She didn't try to make herself interesting.

Instead, she seemed almost uncomfortable whenever I looked at her.

And that made me want to look at her even more.

There was something innocent about her.

But innocence was difficult to define.

Was innocence the way someone dressed?

The way they spoke?

The way they looked at you?

Or was it something deeper?

Something that could only be discovered after spending enough time with a person?

I wanted to find out.

I wanted to peel away the layers slowly.

Not because I wanted to destroy her innocence.

But because I wanted to understand it.

Who was Irene when she wasn't trying to be strong?

Who was she when nobody expected anything from her?

What did she dream about?

What did she fear?

What made her angry?

What made her happy?

And, most importantly...

What kind of love did she believe in?

I smiled as I stared through the car window.

The city lights passed by in long streaks.

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

I wanted to see her again.

I wanted to hear her speak without the awkwardness of our first conversations.

I wanted to sit across from her and watch her eyes while she told me about herself.

I wanted to know everything.

Perhaps that was dangerous.

Perhaps I was walking toward something I had spent years avoiding.

But for the first time in a long time...

I didn't care.

I had built businesses from nothing.

I had traveled across cities.

I had negotiated million-dollar deals.

I had convinced people to believe in things they couldn't see.

Yet somehow, a quiet woman with an innocent smile had managed to become the one thing I couldn't stop thinking about.

I laughed softly to myself.

"What are you doing to me, Irene?"

There was no answer.

Only the memory of her face.

Her nervous expression.

Her soft voice.

That moment when our eyes met.

I closed my eyes for a second.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I would speak to her.

Not as a stranger.

Not from across the room.

But face to face.

I wanted to hear her story from her own lips.

And perhaps...

I wanted her to hear mine too.

I didn't know where this curiosity would lead.

I didn't know whether Irene would eventually become a friend, a passing fascination, or something much more dangerous to my carefully protected heart.

But I knew one thing.

Something had changed.

I had noticed her.

And now I couldn't stop.

Irene Natalie had entered my thoughts without permission.

And I had a feeling she wasn't going to leave anytime soon.