Chapter 3:A Woman Beyond Curiousity
1606 Words
For a brief and unreasonable second, Gabriel Monteverde forgot Bianca was speaking.
His gaze remained fixed across the restaurant.
The woman in black moved with effortless composure, accompanied by her friend and followed by the discreet attention of half the dining hall. Crystal chandeliers painted soft light across her skin while restaurant staff hurried with quiet professionalism.
She did not seem conscious of the attention.
Or perhaps—
Gabriel thought—
she was simply accustomed to it.
Something unfamiliar stirred in him.
Not desire.
Not yet.
Curiosity.
A dangerous thing.
Beside him, Bianca followed his line of sight.
“So,” she said, sipping wine, “that must be her.”
Gabriel finally looked away.
“You assume too much.”
“She looks exactly like the kind of woman wealthy families groom for marriage.”
He glanced again.
Lola Santillan had taken her seat several tables away.
The restaurant seemed subtly rearranged around her presence.
Her dress was elegant without extravagance. No desperate display of wealth. No calculated attempt to seduce.
And yet she possessed a quiet magnetism that made seduction unnecessary.
Bianca smirked.
“You’re staring.”
“I am observing.”
“Same disease.”
Gabriel reached for his wine.
“I’ve never seen her before.”
“That explains the face.”
“What face?”
“The one men make when they discover disappointment might be attractive.”
He ignored her.
But Bianca was not entirely wrong.
This was inconvenient.
Because Gabriel had expected something else.
A woman eager to impress.
Perhaps ambitious.
Possibly eager to secure a marriage into the Monteverde family.
Instead—
Lola looked profoundly uninterested in everything around her.
Even beauty itself.
And strangely—
that irritated him.
Across the room, Bella Reyes leaned toward her friend.
“You know someone is staring at you.”
Lola unfolded her napkin.
“Many people stare.”
“That one is particularly committed.”
“I hope he recovers.”
Bella nearly laughed.
“You are impossible.”
Lola smiled faintly.
Her friend followed her gaze toward the pianist.
“Don’t look suddenly,” Bella whispered.
“I rarely do anything suddenly.”
“The man in gray.”
Lola lifted her glass.
“No.”
“You’re not curious?”
“No.”
Bella groaned.
“Sometimes I think you missed an essential female organ responsible for curiosity.”
Lola’s amusement deepened.
“I have curiosity.”
“You just refuse to use it on men.”
Not entirely true.
There had been lifetimes where curiosity became her ruin.
Men had once fascinated her.
A prince in another century.
A sailor who promised forever.
A scholar whose love burned brighter than wisdom.
And then there were those she barely remembered.
Faces dissolved by time.
Names erased by death.
Eventually desire stopped feeling mysterious.
And admiration—
well.
Admiration was easy.
Temporary.
Predictable.
The waiter arrived with wine.
Lola thanked him softly.
Bella continued watching her.
“You know,” she said, “for someone as beautiful as you, your standards are terrifying.”
“I have standards?”
“You reject everyone.”
“I simply prefer peace.”
Bella rolled her eyes.
“You say that like you’re seventy.”
Sometimes, Lola thought, older.
Her gaze wandered toward the rain beyond the windows.
Peace had become precious.
Especially after memory returned.
Most people feared death.
Lola feared repetition.
And love—
Love carried repetition.
Hope.
Attachment.
Loss.
She had lived through enough endings.
This life, she had promised herself, would be different.
No reckless devotion.
No surrender.
No emotional disasters disguised as destiny.
Across the room, Gabriel studied her again.
Annoyance prickled beneath his calm.
She had not looked at him once.
Not accidentally.
Not out of politeness.
Not even with passing awareness.
Ridiculous.
He was not vain.
At least he preferred not to think of himself that way.
But people noticed him.
Always.
Years of business negotiations and social circles had taught him that attention followed power.
And yet—
Nothing.
Lola Santillan treated his existence with breathtaking indifference.
Bianca observed him with dangerous amusement.
“You dislike this.”
“I dislike what?”
“Being invisible.”
“I’m not invisible.”
“Not to me.”
He adjusted his cufflinks.
“This conversation is childish.”
“Then why do you keep looking?”
Before he could answer, movement near Lola’s table caught his attention.
A man approached.
Tall.
Well-dressed.
Confident.
He greeted Bella first before turning toward Lola with practiced warmth.
Her expression remained politely neutral.
Bianca followed his gaze.
“Ah,” she murmured.
“What?”
“A suitor.”
Something unexpectedly unpleasant settled inside Gabriel.
The reaction irritated him.
He did not know this woman.
He was here to avoid marrying her.
And yet—
He watched.
The stranger smiled while speaking.
Lola listened politely.
Then shook her head.
The man persisted.
Bella appeared entertained.
Gabriel narrowed his eyes.
“You know him?” Bianca asked.
“No.”
“But you’re evaluating him.”
“I evaluate everyone.”
Bianca nearly laughed.
“You are jealous.”
He looked at her sharply.
“Of whom?”
“The stranger.”
“That is absurd.”
“Is it?”
Before he answered, the man extended a small gift box toward Lola.
Flowers, perhaps.
Or jewelry.
Lola looked down at it.
Then, with elegant firmness, pushed it gently back.
No embarrassment.
No flirtation.
Just refusal.
The man tried once more.
She smiled.
And declined again.
Bianca leaned back.
“Well.”
Gabriel’s gaze lingered.
“She rejected him.”
“Clearly.”
The stranger finally retreated with wounded dignity.
Bella said something that made Lola laugh.
And the sound—
Even from across the restaurant—
reached him.
Not loud.
Not theatrical.
Warm.
Unforced.
Gabriel frowned at his glass.
This was becoming irritating.
Meanwhile, Lola had already forgotten the encounter.
The man had been harmless.
A businessman Bella knew.
Polite.
Persistent.
Uninteresting.
Bella smirked.
“Poor Carlo.”
“He’ll survive.”
“He brought diamonds.”
“That seems excessive for someone who barely knows me.”
“You say that as if men use logic around beautiful women.”
Lola smiled.
“Then I’m grateful logic still works for me.”
Bella leaned closer.
“Fine. Ignore Carlo. But at least look at the man who has been staring since you entered.”
“No.”
“Lola—”
“No.”
“You’re stubborn.”
“I am eating.”
Bella sighed dramatically.
“You know who he resembles?”
Lola lifted her fork.
“A tax problem?”
Bella nearly choked.
“Gabriel Monteverde.”
The name landed softly.
Lola paused.
Then resumed eating.
Bella stared.
“That’s it?”
“What else?”
“You’re not curious?”
“No.”
“You’re impossible.”
Perhaps.
But curiosity felt unnecessary.
She already knew enough.
The son returning from abroad.
The reluctant heir.
The man bringing a girlfriend to discourage marriage.
Honestly—
Lola admired the strategy.
They were allies in refusal.
No need for further interest.
And yet—
Almost against her will—
she glanced toward the room.
Not searching.
Merely looking.
Her gaze swept past tables.
Past chandeliers.
And landed—
briefly—
on him.
Gabriel Monteverde.
For a heartbeat the world narrowed.
He was unmistakably handsome.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Dark-haired.
His features carried quiet authority sharpened by intelligence and confidence.
Not merely attractive.
Dangerously composed.
He looked like a man accustomed to command.
And his eyes—
Steady.
Observant.
Already watching her.
Their gazes met.
Just once.
Then Lola calmly looked away.
No blush.
No hesitation.
Nothing.
And somehow—
That single act unsettled Gabriel more than open fascination ever could.
Bianca saw it happen.
“Oh,” she said softly.
He looked at her.
“What?”
“She finally noticed you.”
“And?”
“And she survived.”
His jaw tightened.
This was absurd.
Yet something about her composure disturbed his equilibrium.
Most women he met performed attraction.
Some concealed it better than others.
But Lola—
She had looked at him as though examining weather.
Interesting.
Then irrelevant.
The pianist shifted melodies.
Outside, rain softened against glass.
Bella grinned wickedly.
“Well?”
Lola dabbed her lips with her napkin.
“He is handsome.”
Bella gasped dramatically.
“A miracle.”
“But?”
“There is no but.”
“You looked for two seconds.”
“That was sufficient.”
“You don’t find him attractive?”
Lola considered.
Attractive?
Objectively, yes.
But attraction had become complicated after nine lives.
Beauty alone rarely moved her anymore.
And men carrying confidence often carried expectation too.
No.
She preferred distance.
“Not particularly,” she said.
Across the room—
entirely unaware of the exact words—
Gabriel suddenly stood.
Bianca looked up.
“Where are you going?”
He adjusted his jacket.
“Restroom.”
“Liar.”
He ignored her.
The truth was unclear even to himself.
Perhaps curiosity.
Perhaps irritation.
Or perhaps he simply wanted confirmation that Lola Santillan was real and not some carefully crafted illusion his family had forgotten to mention.
He moved through the restaurant.
Measured.
Composed.
And fate—
with its cruel sense of humor—
chose that exact moment for Lola to rise from her chair as well.
Bella blinked.
“Where are you going?”
“Powder room.”
Neither Lola nor Gabriel knew that within seconds—
their first true collision was about to happen.
And it would begin not with romance—
but annoyance.
- Writer
