The Seductress

Chapter 2: The Man With Secrets

The sun was barely up when Selena Cruz stepped onto the balcony of her penthouse suite, a cup of coffee in one hand and the briefing dossier in the other. The early morning air was sharp, cutting through the silk robe wrapped around her frame. It kept her awake, kept her thinking.

Adrian Valez.

Thirty-four. CEO of ValezTech Industries. Former golden boy of the elite social circle and heir to a legacy tech empire. Two months ago, he was splashed across every media outlet after calling off a multi-million-dollar wedding to Cassandra Devane, the socialite daughter of a real estate magnate. The headlines screamed betrayal, scandal, and disgrace.

Everyone believed Cassandra is the victim. Cassandra said that Adrian is controlling, abusive fiancé. Photos, texts, and audio clips had gone viral. His name and reputation took a sharp dive, his investors pulled out, and the company stocks plummeted.

He vanished shortly after the fallout.

The woman who reached out to Selena, claiming to be Adrian's "fiancée," she said that he had used her for clout and discarded her once he'd gotten what he wanted. Now he wanted her broken the way he'd been.

Selena hated jobs like this—ones that blurred the lines of betrayal and revenge. But she accepted it. Curiosity? Ego? Boredom? She wasn’t sure.

Her phone buzzed.

Maya: Intel confirmed. Adrian living off-grid in Somerford.

Selena: Address?

Maya: Sending now. Remote villa. Minimal security. He's alone.

Selena closed the phone and smiled faintly.

Somerford was a lakeside town, the kind people visited to disappear or remember who they were. She dressed quickly, packed light, and within two hours, she was on the road.

Adrian Valez's villa was nestled between a ridge of pine trees and the glassy stillness of Somerford Lake. Selena arrived just after noon, parking her vintage convertible on the gravel path outside the gates. No cameras. No guards. The man truly wanted solitude.

She adjusted her sunglasses and walked to the front door. A moment passed. Then another. She knocked.

Nothing.

Then, the door opened.

He was taller than she expected. Built like a man who carried stress in his shoulders and silence in his eyes. Tousled black hair, an unshaven jawline, and a tired look that said he hadn't slept in days.

"Can I help you?" His voice was gravel and guarded.

"I'm Evelyn," she said smoothly. "My car broke down a mile from here. There’s no signal, and I saw your villa. Thought I might find someone who could help."

A flicker of doubt passed across his face. Then he stepped aside.

"You can use the landline. It’s inside."

Selena stepped in. The villa was clean, sparse. No personal items. No warmth. Just furniture, books, and a few scattered tools.

He motioned to the phone on the wall.

She picked it up, dialed a fake number, held a silent conversation, and pretended to arrange a tow.

"They said it might take two hours," she said, turning back to him.

Adrian nodded, still studying her like a puzzle. "You want coffee?"

"If you're offering."

He moved to the kitchen. Selena followed, subtly scanning the place—no pictures, no notes, no traces of anyone but him.

"You live here alone?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Vacation?"

He handed her a mug. "You ask a lot of questions for someone stranded."

Selena laughed lightly. "Fair point. You just don’t seem like the type who hides in places like this."

He looked at her then. A direct gaze that pinned her. "Maybe you don’t know what kind of type I am."

"Maybe not. But you don’t seem dangerous."

A ghost of a smile. "That would be your mistake."

Selena sipped the coffee. Bitter. Strong.

"Well, I’ll try to stay on your good side then," she said.

"Good idea."

Over the next two hours, they talked. She told stories, half-true, half-false, enough to appear vulnerable but interesting. Adrian, in turn, was guarded. He spoke only when prompted, and even then, his words were laced with caution.

But there was something in his silence. A sadness. A quiet rage.

He was not healed.

Perfect.

When she finally "got the call" that her car was being towed, she rose from the couch.

"Thanks for the coffee, Adrian. And the hospitality."

He raised a brow. "I don’t remember telling you my name."

Selena froze for half a second. Then she smiled.

"You didn’t. But it’s on your mail. By the door."

He said nothing.

She walked to the door.

"Maybe I’ll see you around," she said.

"Maybe."

She stepped outside, heart beating fast. His suspicions were quick. Smarter than most. This would not be an easy mission.

Back in her car, she pulled out her phone and typed:

Selena: He's cautious. Not a fool. I'll need a new approach.

Maya: What kind?

Selena: Something personal. Something broken.

A week later, she returned to Somerford. This time, she wasn’t stranded. She rented a cabin near the lake and made sure Adrian saw her jogging one morning.

"Small world," he said, approaching with a bottle of water.

"Isn't it?" she replied, panting.

---

Selena didn’t expect the next assignment to rattle her. After all, she had played this game countless time enough to know when to lean in and when to disappear. But Adrian wasn’t just another cheating husband. He wasn’t even one.

It feels like he was a man wronged, broken in places she couldn't see but could feel. And he had built walls so high she couldn’t see over them yet. Or maybe he's good in pretending to make her feel that way.

She stood in the middle of the upscale café where they had agreed to meet again, brushing imaginary lint off her skirt. Her timing had been precise—five minutes early. She wanted him to arrive and see her already waiting, to unsettle him just enough to make him curious.

Adrian walked in exactly at the scheduled time, not a minute early or late. He was dressed in a charcoal coat, his hair slightly damp from the rain. When he spotted her, there was a flicker of something in his eyes—recognition, perhaps, but not warmth.

"Selena," he said, sitting across from her without offering a smile.

She greeted him with one. "Glad you came."

"You said it was important."

She paused, then tilted her head. "I wanted to talk. Get to know you better. You’ve been on my mind."

Adrian didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he ordered black coffee without glancing at the menu. When the server left, he turned back to her.

"You don’t waste time, do you?"

"I respect time," she replied smoothly. "Especially yours."

His eyes narrowed. "Let’s not pretend this is coincidence. You don’t just happen into a man’s life like this."

Selena leaned forward. "Then what do you think I am?"

Adrian looked at her, hard and calculating. "A test. Maybe even a trap. I’ve seen beautiful women with charming smiles and smooth words before. You’re not the first."

That surprised her. He was already suspicious, far more than the usual target. This wasn’t going to be easy.

And yet, part of her liked the challenge.

The next week unfolded in a pattern of slow steps and subtle probes.

Selena invited Adrian to a gallery opening. He declined.

She sent him articles about architecture, knowing it was one of his interests. He replied with curt acknowledgments.

She walked past his office one afternoon and left a coffee with his name on it.

The next morning, the same coffee, untouched, was delivered to her doorstep.

He was polite but distant. Engaging but guarded. Her usual charms failed to penetrate his shield. There were no lingering glances, no flirtatious comments, no invitations to private dinners or impulsive touches.

Every move she made, he read three moves ahead.

"He’s not taking the bait," Selena confessed to Maya during one of their encrypted calls.

"You’re slipping," Maya replied coldly.

"No. He’s just not vulnerable to the same tactics."

"Then adapt. That’s what you do, isn’t it?"

Selena stared at her own reflection in the mirror. Her makeup was perfect. Her expression, cool and confident. But inside, she felt a flicker of something she didn’t recognize.

"I’ll need time."

"You have two weeks," Maya said. "Make him crawl, or we burn the file."

The call ended.

By the second week, Selena tried something new and that is disinterest.

She stopped texting. Didn’t call. Avoided his building. And for three days, there was nothing. No contact.

Then, on the fourth day, Adrian walked into the small bookstore she frequented.

He spotted her by the poetry shelf, eyes scanning the spines. When she noticed him, she simply nodded and returned to reading.

He approached cautiously.

"This your quiet place?"

"It is. Didn’t think you’d find me here."

"I didn’t. I just walked in."

"Right," she said, her voice unreadable.

They stood side by side in the narrow aisle. For once, Adrian didn’t question her. He didn’t accuse her of playing games.

"Why do you keep showing up, Selena?"

"Maybe I like bookstores. Maybe I like puzzles."

He raised an eyebrow. "You think I’m a puzzle?"

"I know you are. And I can’t seem to solve you."

Adrian chuckled softly, the sound almost foreign. "Maybe I don’t want to be solved."

She looked at him then, and for the first time, she didn’t try to seduce him with her gaze..

"Then why haven’t you walked away?"

He paused, then said quietly, "I don’t know."