Brian
Lucy Davidson knew two things as she left the cemetery that morning.
Her mother had been gone for three years.
And she was desperately, hopelessly falling for a boy she wasn't supposed to want.
She certainly didn't want the man her father had already chosen to be her future husband. The thought of an arranged marriage to a man she didn't love made her stomach turn, but her heart had already made a far more dangerous choice.
It sat beneath her ribs—heavy and light at the same time. An obsession she hadn't asked for, directed at an ordinary sales representative who worked for her father. A boy who didn't have the slightest clue that he had entirely consumed the thoughts of the boss's daughter.
She was eighteen now.
People expected that to mean something. That she should be stronger, steadier, more certain of herself. Like time alone was enough to fix the things that broke inside a person.
But standing in front of her mother's grave just minutes ago, placing fresh flowers the same way she had done every year since she was fifteen, Lucy hadn't felt strong at all.
She had just felt empty.
I don't know what to do, she had whispered, her fingers brushing the cold stone as if her mother might somehow answer her.
Of course, nothing came. Just the quiet kind of silence that didn't comfort, didn't echo. It just stayed.
Now, seated in the back of the car as it pulled away from the cemetery gates, the world outside still clung to her like a quiet ache. But her mind was already drifting away from the past, pulled toward the living, breathing secret she carried in her chest.
The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror.
"Ma'am, where to?"
"Stop here," she said, noticing a busy stretch of road lined with small shops.
She needed something small and ordinary to steady herself. Her father’s parting words from breakfast echoed in her mind: Come straight to the office after you're done. No delays.
Stepping into a small snack shop, she bought two warm burgers. When she returned to the car, she handed one to the driver.
He blinked, surprised. "Oh—thank you, ma'am. God bless you."
Lucy gave a small nod, settling back into her seat with the other burger in her lap.
"Ma… I hope you don't mind me asking," the driver spoke carefully as they merged into traffic. "I noticed you've been quieter these past days. Is something bothering you, ma?"
She forced a small smile. "I'm alright. Just… missing my mother."
"I'm sorry, ma," he replied softly. "Be strong. Time will heal it."
The driver offered the quiet sympathy people give when they think they understand your pain. But he didn't know. No one did. Not her father. Not anyone in her world.
Because what sat inside her wasn't just grief. It was something far more dangerous.
She knew her father would never allow it. If he found out she was harboring feelings for a mere employee, he would make her choose—or worse, he would find a way to destroy him entirely.
Brian!
The name rested in her chest like something alive. It showed up in the spaces between conversations, in moments when she should have been thinking about anything else. The driver had no idea that the quiet young heiress sitting behind him was trying very hard to suppress a forbidden craving—for a boy who barely even knew she existed.
The car moved steadily toward Davidson Industries.
The building came into view—tall, polished, standing with the same ruthless authority as her father. Her stomach tightened slightly.
"Stop here," she said softly. "Wait for me."
She stepped out into the morning warmth. Her attention was instantly drawn to the loading area at the side of the building, where workers were unloading a delivery van.
And then—she saw him.
A young man stood near the van, sleeves rolled up, lifting boxes with a calm focus. There was nothing loud about him, yet everything about him drew her eyes.
Lucy's breath caught. Her heart recognized him before her mind could even process it.
She took one step forward, then another, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
Just as she reached the edge of the loading area, Brian turned. It wasn't dramatic, just a simple movement of a man sensing someone's gaze. But the moment his eyes lifted and locked onto hers, the entire world stilled.
Lucy froze. So did he.
In that suspended, breathless second, her father’s chilling voice from breakfast slammed into her mind: “Some people forget their place, Lucy. I remind them.”
Her fingers loosened.
The wrapped burger slipped from her hand, hitting the pavement between them. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe.
Why him? Why Brian?
