CHAPTER NINE
1340 Words
The door had barely closed before the
silence started bothering me.
I stayed on the bed for a moment, staring at nothing. then swung my legs off the bed, pain tugged sharply at my side, but I ignored it.
I stepped into the hallway, and it was quieter than it should be.
Their voices were already fading, low and distant, I followed slowly, just close enough to hear what they were saying.
I followed, careful and quiet just close enough to catch fragments of what they were saying.
They stopped near the end of the corridor, and stepped into a room. The door didn't shut completely.
I moved closer, stopping just before the narrow opening.
Where is he?” Leonardo asked.
“At the Warehouse,” Adrian replied, "sector three.”
“Has he said anything?”
“No.”
There was a brief pause.
“Then we’re done with him.” Adrian didn’t respond immediately
“Take care of him,” Leonardo added.
I felt my chest tighten.
My foot shifted slightly against the floor, barely making a sound, too soft to be heard, but not for him.
Silence fell instantly.
‘Come out.”
I froze, but I didn't move.
Don’t make me repeat myself.”he said, his voice colder now. “Or I'll have Adrian drag you out.”
There was no point hiding, I pushed the door open slowly and stepped inside
Adrian turned instantly alert, but Leonardo lifted a hand slightly, stopping him without even looking away from me.
“Leave us.”
Adrian hesitated for a moment, then nodded and walked out, the door shutting behind him.
Leonardo didn’t speak right away, he just looked at me silent and unreadable, it was worse than anger.
“Is it that hard to follow instructions?,” he said at last, “I told you to stay in your room.”
“I was–”
“What are you doing here?” He asked cutting me off.
I swallowed slightly, but I didn't say anything
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“How much did you hear?”
I held his gaze. “Enough.”
There was a bit of pause before I asked.
“You’re going to kill him?,”
“Yes.” He replied without hesitation.
That should have unsettled me more than it did, but it didn’t, because deep down—
I already knew.
He took a step closer, closing the distance between us.
“You hear things you shouldn’t.”
“Then don't say them where I can hear,” I replied.
His gaze darkened slightly, but instead of anger— he smiled, faint and dangerous.
“Don't worry,” he said quietly, “I’ll fix that.”
My brows pulled slightly. “Fix what?”
“You, since you want to know everything that's going on”
I almost laughed. “I’m not something you fix.”
“No,” he said. “You’re something I can place.”
“You’ll work for me directly.”
I blinked. “What?”
He continued “as my PA”
“No, I don't want to.” the words slipped out before I could stop them.
He didn’t react. “That wasn't a request” he said with full authority “you don’t have a choice.”
“But you don’t trust me.”
“I don’t need to,” he replied, "I just need to know where you are.”
An uncomfortable silence stretched between us.
“Go back to your room,” he said finally.
I didn't hesitate, I turned and walked back to my room.
The next few days passed quietly, meals were delivered to my room, and the doctor kept checking in on me.
But I stayed in my room throughout the week, not because I was told to, but because it was easier to avoid him.
The next time I saw him again was by accident.
I had stepped into the hallway, expecting it to be empty, it wasn't.
He was already there, walking towards me, I froze for a second before I could stop it, his gaze lifted, locking onto mine.
I looked away first, stepped aside to let him pass.
There was a brief pause in his movement, but he didn't stop, and went his way.
After that, I was more careful not to run into him, I listened before opening the doors, timed my movements, and avoided the main areas.
I wasn't even sure why I was hiding from him.
A week later the pain had faded and the doctor finally cleared me to move around properly.
So when Adrian showed up at my door that morning, I wasn’t surprised.
“The boss says you’re to resume today.” Just like that.
I nodded once. “Alright.”
After he left, I closed the door and stood there for a moment. Then I turned toward the wardrobe.
If this was how things were going to be—
Then fine, I’d meet whatever came head-on.
When I stepped into his study, he didn’t look up immediately, he finished what he was reading first.
Then his eyes lifted, moving over me once, assessing everything I wore before returning to my face.
Let him look, if he had a problem with it, he could say it.
I was putting on my black leather fitted pants, a cropped jacket, a dark top underneath, with my biker boots.
This is what you want to wear to work?” he asked, his tone calm.
I crossed my arms slightly. “You didn’t give me a dress code.”
He closed the file in front of him with a soft tap, stood up, stepped away from the desk, stopping a short distance in front of me.
“You represent me now, you don't walk in looking like that,” he said, already reaching for his jacket.
Before I could respond he walked past me,
“Come with me”
There was no space to argue, and I just followed.
The car pulled up in front of a narrow building framed with glass, nothing loud or flashy, but everything about it felt expensive.
People noticed him the moment he walked in, staff straightened immediately, greeting and directing attention to him.
He didn’t stop to acknowledge it, just walked in like he owned the space, maybe he did, I didn’t ask.
Everything inside felt curated, and precise.
He walked toward a private lounge area tucked slightly to the side, with low seating, polished table, he took a seat and said “Pick what you need.”
Then his attention shifted elsewhere, like I was already expected to handle it.
I moved deeper into the store, rows of clothing lined neatly, I walked between the racks slowly, fingers brushing against fabric,
The space was quiet, controlled. Nothing out of place. Even the air felt curated
My fingers paused on a dress.
Dark charcoal, fitted cleanly at the waist, the neckline sharp but not harsh. The sleeves fell just right, structured without feeling stiff.
I had barely lifted it when another hand caught the fabric.
I looked up and the woman across from me didn’t let go, neither did I.
“I’ll take this,” she said smoothly.
I tilted my head slightly “I already have it,”
Her lips curved faintly. “Then find something else.”
“No.” The word came out calm but firmly.
A flicker of irritation crossed her face.
“I don’t repeat myself.”
“Good,” I said. “Neither do I.”
The assistant stepped in nervously “Ma’am… that piece is the last one available–”
“I said I’ll take it,” the woman cut in.
My grip tightened slightly, so did hers.
From the lounge Leonardo must have heard.
He stepped out, and stopped a few steps away, his gaze taking in the scene.
Then she turned, the moment she saw him, she froze.
Her fingers loosened from the fabric.
“...Leonardo?”
- Writer
