Entangle hearts

CHAPTER 2

NORA'S P.O.V.

As I entered my room and shut the door behind me, I wondered why I had pretended to my Aunt Nana, who had been anxiously awaiting my return. I told her everything went well and that I expected positive feedback when, deep down, I knew I wouldn’t choose myself after the chaotic display I made.

I flung my shoes to a corner and sank onto the bed, my mind tormenting me with the events of the day. The fear, the confusion, the embarrassment—it all replayed in a relentless loop, making it hard to find any peace.

I decided to take a quick shower, hoping the warm water would wash away some of the tension. The steam filled the bathroom, creating a small sanctuary where I could momentarily escape from my thoughts. As the water cascaded over me, I tried to let go of the day's anxieties, but the lingering embarrassment clung to me like a second skin.

Just as I finished dressing and started to brush my hair, Diego burst into the room without warning, startling me.

"How many times do I have to tell you to knock before entering a room?" I said, hitting him lightly on the back while he laughed.

Despite our age difference, Diego had grown much taller than me, which he often used to his advantage, making fun of my attempts at punishment. His playful demeanor was both endearing and exasperating.

"And how was the interview, sis?" he asked after our playful exchange, his curiosity genuine.

"It went well," I said rather calmly, trying to mask the turmoil inside me. The lie tasted bitter on my tongue, but I didn't want to worry him or Aunt Nana with the truth.

There was an eerie silence between us, a rare moment of quiet reflection. Then he spoke again.

"I'm sure it went well. I saw a company car close to our house, and Aunt Nana confirmed it was you that was dropped off. I guess being a nerd is finally paying off for you," he said with a teasing smile.

I returned his smile, but inside, I felt a pang of guilt. I couldn't, and wouldn't, start talking about my day with him. The thought of reliving those moments was too much to bear.

Diego noticed my hesitation and softened his tone. "Hey, if there's anything you want to talk about, you know I'm here, right?"

I nodded, appreciating his offer but not ready to take him up on it. "Thanks, Diego. I just need some time to unwind."

"Okay, but don't take too long. Aunt Nana's making your favorite dinner," he said, before leaving the room.

Once alone, I let out a deep sigh and lay back on the bed. The ceiling fan whirred softly above me, its rhythmic sound almost hypnotic. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the positive aspects of the day, but the thought of disappointing my family came haunting.After an hour the knock on my door startled me out of my thoughts. "Dinner's ready," Diego called from the other side.

"Be right there," I replied, taking a moment to collect myself. I knew I needed to put on a brave face for Aunt Nana and Diego, even if I didn't feel brave inside.

As I walked to the dining room, the comforting smell of Aunt Nana's cooking filled the air. It was a small comfort, but it was enough to help me push the day's events to the back of my mind, at least for a little while.

MANUEL'S P.O.V.

Work at the office was stressful, but we pulled through. I had a lot of papers to sign because of the new contracts we had secured. My office was a whirlwind of activity, with people coming in and out, documents piling up, and the phone ringing incessantly. The weight of responsibility rested heavily on my shoulders, but I thrived under pressure.

I had instructed my bodyguards to keep their eyes around the building. It was so odd for Lucky to set up a meeting and not show up.

Was he trying to play some tricks on me? I pondered as I sat in my chair, the weight of the day pressing down on me. The absence of Lucky, usually punctual and reliable, gnawed at the back of my mind.

Evening came too quickly, and most of the workers had exited the building. The office was finally quiet, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the day. I leaned back in my chair, enjoying a rare moment of peace. My chief bodyguard, Marcus, came in to give me a report.

"Everything secure for the night, sir," Marcus began, his voice steady and professional. Just then, I remembered the strange lady I met in the garage earlier today.

"Did the lady get home safe?" I asked, looking up from my desk.

"She did, but she's truly a handful, sir," Marcus said with a slight chuckle, shaking his head as if recalling a particularly amusing incident.

I turned to look at him, having been facing the window and enjoying the view from my office. The city lights twinkled in the distance, a beautiful reminder of the world outside this corporate bubble. I knew it—something was definitely off with that lady, I thought to myself.

"Send me the security footage of the garage," I instructed. Marcus nodded and left without a word, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

I went to my desk, and within minutes, the footage appeared on my system. I rewound to the time I saw her. What was she doing in the garage all by herself? I wondered. I leaned forward, scrutinizing the screen closely.

As I watched the footage, I saw the bodyguards approach her. I scrutinized her every move, looking for anything suspicious. To my shock and amazement, the lady immediately ran as soon as the guards approached her.

I opened my eyes wide in surprise—this wasn’t what I was expecting at all. The scene of her running and the guards chasing her made me chuckle,which echoed in the empty office.

"She's a weird one," I thought, amused, as I closed my system. Her unexpected reaction was both puzzling and endearing, a stark contrast to the usual stoic and calculated behavior I encountered daily

MANUEL'S P.O.V.

The ride home was always the same, a monotonous repetition of the day before. As the car glided through the bustling city streets, the familiar sights passed by in a blur. The towering skyscrapers, the neon lights, and the crowds of people all seemed distant, like scenes from a movie I had seen too many times. The driver navigated smoothly, and I leaned back in my seat, trying to shake off the day’s stress.

When we reached my gated community, the guards at the entrance greeted us with the usual nod of acknowledgment. The car continued down the private road, lined with perfectly manicured lawns and stately homes. Finally, we pulled into my driveway, the headlights illuminating the path to my garage.

My personal assistant, Rose, was already there, having arrived ahead of me. She handed over my briefcase and the necessary documents I had requested. "Here you go, sir. Everything you asked for," she said with her efficient smile.

I nodded, taking the briefcase from her.

As she left, the bodyguards for the night shift took their positions, switching places with those who had been on duty earlier. They followed me closely as I entered the garage, their presence a silent assurance of my safety. The garage door closed behind us with a soft hum, sealing off the outside world.

Inside, my home was as quiet as ever. The minimalist design, with its sleek lines and muted colors, reflected my preference for simplicity and order. My maid had prepared dinner and left it on the dining table, knowing I preferred solitude.

I walked up the stairs to my bedroom, the soft carpet muffling my footsteps. After a quick shower, the hot water washing away the remnants of the day’s stress, I changed into comfortable clothes and headed back downstairs.

In the dining room, I sat down to eat, flipping through the latest business magazines. My company, of course, was on the front page. It was the talk of the town, a titan in the industry. Although some people relished the mystery of the company’s owner—me—never showing my face to the public, I preferred it that way. I was known only to important and specific people, and that was enough.

After dinner, I headed to my home office. The room was spacious, with a large mahogany desk and shelves lined with books and files. I sat down and began reviewing the contract information from several companies, sorting through the details with a meticulous eye. My company had goals, even though most people seemed to think we had it all.

Hours passed, and my mind drifted back to the CCTV footage of the lady I had met in the garage. The memory made me chuckle again, a half-smile forming on my lips. Her reaction was so unexpected, so genuine.

After a few minutes of pondering the thought, I snapped back to reality. “What am I doing, thinking of a lady?” I said to myself, shaking my head. I stood up, needing more space to think despite the office being spacious.

I walked to the large windows and opened the curtains, allowing a perfect and clear view of the moon. The soft, silvery light bathed the room, casting long shadows. I took a deep breath in and out. “Probably I need a vacation,” I thought, then another idea crossed my mind, “or maybe this lady is the vacation I need.”

Returning to my desk, I picked up my phone and dialed my personal assistant's number, despite knowing it was very late. After a few rings, she picked up, sounding slightly groggy but professional. “Yes, sir?”

“Send me the list of batch 11 applicants from today’s interviews,” I said.

“Right away, sir,” she replied, her voice fully awake now.

After getting an affirmative reply, I ended the call and leaned back in my chair, staring out at the moonlit night. The city was alive with possibilities, and somewhere out there was a lady who had sparked my curiosity in ways I hadn't expected.