The morning light cut through the blinds as I sat on the edge of my bed, phone in hand. I typed out the first message, simple, deliberate:
"Hey."
I hesitated, then added another.
"How are you?"
"What are you up to?"
"Do you want to meet up this coming Saturday?"
I stared at the screen, thumb hovering over send. Finally, I pressed it. The messages went out, each one a thread tying me closer to her.
And then I waited.
The silence was unbearable. I checked the phone again and again, but no reply came. My chest tightened, instincts clawing at me, demanding I go to her, demand her attention. But I forced myself to breathe, to control the storm inside.
I dressed for work, slipping into my tailored suit, every movement precise. Yet my mind was elsewhere. Julia. Always Julia.
My assistant arrived promptly, tablet in hand. "Sir, I've compiled the information you requested about Julia Ashbourne."
I leaned back, folding my arms. "Tell me everything."
She scrolled through her notes. "Julia is twenty‑four. Wildlife biologist. She's currently working on a conservation project in Melbourne, focusing on native plant restoration. She collaborated with your mother in Perth on the forest study. Lives in South Penrith. Second‑generation South Indian heritage. Fluent in English and can slightly speak Tamil. No criminal record, no scandals. She's respected in her field, though still early in her career."
I nodded slowly, absorbing every detail. "What about her personal life?"
The assistant hesitated. "She's close to her best friend, Rose, who owns a café. No serious relationships on record. She spends most of her time between the lab and the conservation site. She's… quiet, private."
My jaw tightened. "Private doesn't mean unreachable."
The assistant gave a cautious look. "Sir, if I may… she's not like the others. She doesn't move in your circles. She's grounded. Ordinary."
I smirked, though my eyes were cold. "There's nothing ordinary about her."
The assistant lowered her gaze. "Understood."
Later, I sat in the boardroom, the long mahogany table stretching before me, executives droning on about quarterly projections. Charts, numbers, strategies, all the things that had once consumed me.
But my mind wasn't here.
Every few minutes, I glanced at my phone, the screen lighting up with nothing but silence. No reply. No word.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to focus on the presentation. Yet the numbers blurred, the voices faded, and all I could see was her face, her eyes, her smile.
Julia Ashbourne.
The meeting dragged on, but I was elsewhere caught between the empire I had built and the woman who had undone me with a single glance.
And as the executives spoke of profits and expansion, I stared at my phone, waiting.
I went home that night, phone in hand, waiting. But no reply came.
The silence stretched into the next day, and then the next. A week passed, each day gnawing at me, each hour dragging me deeper into obsession.
At first, I tried to distract myself with work. Meetings, reports, numbers, things that once defined me. But Julia's absence consumed me. I checked my phone constantly, every vibration making my pulse quicken, only to find nothing.
By midweek, I was unravelling. My assistant, Daniel, noticed. He had worked with me long enough to know my moods, but this was different.
"Sir," he said cautiously one morning, handing me a stack of reports, "you seem… distracted."
I didn't look up. "Focus on the merger details."
He hesitated. "With respect, you've been colder than usual. The team is unsettled."
I finally raised my eyes, sharp and unyielding. "Then they should work harder."
Daniel swallowed, nodding, but I saw the flicker of unease in his gaze. He had seen me ruthless before, but never like this, never so consumed by something outside the empire.
Each day blurred into the next. I barely slept, pacing my office at night, haunted by dreams of Julia. In those dreams, she was always there, her brown eyes luminous, her silk dress shimmering, her presence overwhelming. I would reach for her, only to wake with my jaw clenched, my chest tight, the echo of her still burning in my veins.
Daniel's perspective was clear. He saw me colder, sharper, detached from everything except the thought of her. He saw the way my eyes flicked to my phone every few minutes, the way my jaw tightened when no new message appeared. He saw the obsession, the possessiveness, the madness creeping in.
And though I kept my mask of control, inside I was unravelling.
Julia Ashbourne had not replied.
Yet I knew one truth with absolute certainty: she would not escape me forever.