Completely Obsessed

CHAPTER SEVEN

Valerian's POV

The office was quiet. Too quiet. The city outside my window was slowly disappearing beneath the darkness of evening, its lights stretching across the skyline like scattered stars. From the top floor of my office, everything below looked insignificant. People hurried along the streets, cars moved through the intersections, and buildings stood tall beneath the fading sky. None of it held my attention.

I sat behind my desk, one hand resting against the arm of my chair as I looked through the reports Ethan had placed in front of me. The Crimson Table had been performing well, better than expected, actually. The new branch was already attracting a steady flow of customers, and the financial figures showed no immediate concerns. Everything was in order. Or at least, it should have been.

My mind kept returning to what I had witnessed earlier. The employees, the laughter, and the young woman standing there with a tray in her hands while the others made her the subject of their amusement. Nairobi.

That was unusual. Most people became nervous around me because of my reputation. Nairobi had been nervous because she needed the job. I leaned back in my chair, wondering why that small detail had stayed in my mind.

I reached for the phone on my desk and pressed Ethan's number.

“Ethan.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Send me the employee records for the new staff at The Crimson Table.”

There was a brief pause before he answered. “All of them?”

“One employee.”

“Which one?”

I glanced toward the glass wall overlooking the corridor. “Nairobi Bellamy ”

Another pause followed.

“I'll get it.”

“Now.”

“Yes, sir.”

The call ended, and I placed the phone back on my desk.

I didn't know why I wanted her information. Perhaps I wanted to know whether she was actually as inexperienced as she appeared. Perhaps I wanted to understand why the manager had hired someone with no previous work experience. Or perhaps I simply wanted to know whether there was more to her than what I had seen.

Whatever the reason, I wasn't going to ignore the question.

I continued working while I waited.

Five minutes passed, then ten. I checked the time. It was already 6:29 p.m. I glanced toward the door, but Ethan hadn't returned. I sighed quietly and went back to my paperwork.

Another five minutes passed before a knock finally sounded.

“Come in.”The door opened, and Ethan walked in carrying a thin folder. He placed it on my desk.“Sorry for the wait.” I looked at him. “How long?”

“Fifteen minutes.”I raised an eyebrow.Ethan sighed. “You asked for information on someone who has practically no employment history. There wasn't exactly a hundred-page biography waiting for me.”I gave him a cold look. He ignored it and continued, “This is everything we have.” I pulled the folder toward me. “Leave.” Ethan nodded. “Good night, sir.”

He started toward the door. “Ethan.” He stopped and turned around. “Yes, sir?”

“Make sure the manager sends me a report about the employees involved in today's incident.” His expression became serious. “Understood.” He left. I looked down at the folder sitting in front of me. The name was printed clearly across the front.

Nairobi Tokyo Bellamy.

I opened it. The first page contained her basic information.

Name: Nairobi Tokyo Bellamy

Age: 18

Education: High school graduate

Position: Service Staff

Previous Employment: None

Work Experience: None

I stopped when I reached her age.Eighteen.She was younger than I had initially assumed.I turned the page.Her background was surprisingly short. She had been raised by an adoptive mother, but there was no information regarding her biological parents. No known relatives were listed. Then I saw the next detail. Her adoptive mother had passed away when Nairobi was sixteen. I stared at the line for a moment.

Sixteen. At sixteen, most people were still dependent on their families. Nairobi had already lost the only mother she had ever known. I continued reading. Since then, she had apparently been relying heavily on her closest friend, Zara Mitchell. The rest of the file contained ordinary information. No criminal record, no previous employment issues, and no disciplinary history. Nothing concerning.

Just a young woman trying to find her first job. I closed the folder halfway and leaned back in my chair."So that's why.”

Her nervousness made sense now. The constant apologies, the hesitation, and the way she seemed afraid of making even the smallest mistake. She wasn't incompetent. She was inexperienced. There was a difference. I opened the folder again and found myself looking at her photograph.

It was a simple employee identification photo. Nothing remarkable. Yet I remembered the woman I had seen earlier—the same girl who had quietly cleaned the broken glass, the same girl who had insisted that her injured hand wasn't serious, and the same girl who had told me she needed the job.

I closed the folder. I didn't like unnecessary complications, and this was beginning to feel like one. I placed the file on the corner of my desk and returned to my work. But I found myself checking the clock more often than I normally did.

6:42. Then 6:51. By 7:03, I had finished everything I needed to finish. I stood from my chair and straightened my suit jacket. I grabbed my briefcase and turned toward the door.

I was ready to leave when movement outside the office caught my attention. Through the glass wall overlooking the staff corridor, I saw someone stepping out of the locker room.

I stopped. It was her. Nairobi. She wasn't wearing her uniform anymore. She had changed into simple clothes, with a small bag hanging from her shoulder. Her hair was no longer tied the way it had been during work. Without the restaurant uniform, she looked younger. Much younger. She didn't look like the employee I had seen earlier. She looked like an eighteen-year-old girl who had simply finished a long and exhausting day. She walked slowly down the corridor, her shoulders slightly slumped. She looked tired.

I remained where I was. For some reason, I didn't move. She reached the entrance and paused. She checked her phone before looking outside.

A few moments later, a taxi pulled up. Nairobi stepped outside, opened the door, and climbed into the back seat. The taxi began moving. I continued watching. I don't know how long I stood there. Perhaps a few seconds. Perhaps longer. There was nothing unusual about an employee going home. People left work every day. It should have meant nothing to me. Yet my eyes remained fixed on the road long after the taxi disappeared from sight. I finally looked down at the folder on my desk.

Nairobi Bellamy.

Eighteen years old. High school graduate. No known biological parents. Lost her adoptive mother at sixteen. First job. Best friend named Zara Mitchell. A remarkably ordinary file. I picked it up and placed it inside my briefcase. Then I walked toward the elevator. The doors opened, and I stepped inside. As the elevator descended, my reflection stared back at me from the polished metal. Cold eyes. Straight posture. Expressionless face. The same man everyone knew.

The man people feared. The man who had no reason to care about a young woman getting into a taxi. And yet, one thought crossed my mind.

She looked exhausted. I immediately dismissed it. It meant nothing. I had simply noticed an employee leaving work. Nothing more. The elevator reached the ground floor. I stepped out and walked toward the private exit, where my driver was already waiting.

He opened the car door for me. Before getting inside, I glanced once toward the street. The taxi was long gone. I looked away.

“Let's go.”

“Yes, sir.”

The door closed behind me. As the car pulled away from The Crimson Table, I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes. Tomorrow would be another day of meetings, negotiations, contracts, and decisions. My life would return to its usual routine.And Nairobi Bellamy would remain nothing more than an employee whose name happened to cross my desk. At least, that was what I told myself.

I had no reason to think about her again. No reason at all. Yet for the first time in a long while, I found myself wondering what someone else's life looked like beyond the walls of my businesses. And I didn't like the fact that I was curious.