It had been one week at the Ravenscrofts global company.
One full week of endless calls that left my ears buzzing long after I hung up. One week of meetings where I sat across long glass tables
pretending I wasn't intimidated. One week of putting up with Loretta, who clearly hated my guts and didn't even try to hide it.
The way she corrected me in front of others. The way her lips pressed into that thin, satisfied line whenever I stumbled.
And yet… somehow, I had adjusted.
I don't know when it happened. Maybe between the third meeting and the twentieth call. Maybe the moment I stopped apologizing before speaking.
This morning, when I looked in the mirror, I felt… proud. Tired, yes, but stronger. Steadier. Like I could survive this world.
Tonight was just like most evenings lately: I would meet Aaron after work. Something soft to land on after long, exhausting days.
At six, I texted him: Pick me up by 7:00. Simple. Easy. Safe.
I slipped into the brown flower gown he once said he liked so much. I didn't know why I remembered that detail, but I did.
When I came downstairs, Victor was at the dining table.
Elena was out again, busy with wedding planning. Dresses. Venues. Decorations. She barely noticed the tension in the house anymore.
Because she wasn't around, I had been bumping into Victor constantly. In the hallway. By the stairs. Near the kitchen. Little accidental meetings that felt anything but accidental.
Tonight was no different.
As I slowly stepped downstairs, I felt his eyes on me. Even though I pretended to be focused on my phone, typing absolute rubbish just to avoid looking.
"Are you going somewhere?" he asked.
I stopped typing and nodded. "Yes," I said softly, slipping an earpiece in as if I were on a call. Clear signal: I don't want to talk.
"Alyssa."
His voice was soft, deliberate. My stomach churned. I froze.
I could hear him rise from his chair, footsteps measured, heavy.
"I've been meaning to—"
"Boss, you need to see this." His driver interrupted.
Relief washed over me, uneven, like the tide brushing my skin and retreating too soon. Victor hesitated a moment longer, the unfinished sentence hanging in the air. Then he stepped back. I exhaled quietly. Almost conversations. Almost apologies. Almost… something.
My phone buzzed for real this time: I'm outside.
I didn't waste a second.
Aaron leaned casually against his car, simple in a white T-shirt and blue trousers. His face lit up when he saw me, and my chest felt lighter immediately.
"You look cute in that dress," he said gently.
"Just cute?" I teased, raising an eyebrow. "I remembered you liked it."
He laughed, clutching his stomach. "Okay, okay. You look beautiful. Happy?"
"Better," I said, smiling.
He opened the car door, and we drove off. I didn't look back at the mansion.
Neon Bar. Colorful lights blinked against the dark sky. Music spilled onto the street. Our little escape from complicated families, heavy emotions, reality.
We found a table, ordered, and for the first time all week, I could breathe. Aaron was quieter than usual, staring more, talking less. Not uncomfortable—different.
Finally, I nudged him. "Spill it."
He blushed, cheeks warm, avoided my eyes briefly. "Would you… be my girlfriend? Officially. Not just friends."
I froze. I knew this would come eventually. But hearing it out loud… it made my chest thrum.
I laughed. "It sure took you long enough."
His eyes lit instantly. "Is that a yes?"
"No… not a yes," I teased. "But also not a no."
He leaned closer. "So… an official date, then? Let's see how it goes."
I giggled. "Let me think about it."
"There's no rush," he said softly, still watching me.
I grabbed his hand. "Let's dance."
The club pulsed with life. Lights flashing, bass thudding in my chest. Aaron held me close, hands on my waist, whispering into my ear:
"You make me happy."
"I feel calm around you."
"You don't even know what you do to me."
For a few hours, I forgot everything else. The office, Victor, Loretta, expectations—all faded.
At 11:00, he dropped me off.
"Text me when you're inside," he said.
"I will."
The gates closed behind me. I slipped off my heels and stepped into the parlor—and froze.
Victor sat on the couch. Not working. Not distracted. Just watching.
The look in his eyes made my breath hitch. Concern. Curiosity. Intensity.
He scanned me slowly—the dress, my flushed cheeks, the lingering smile.
The room felt smaller.
no interruptions. No Elena. No excuses. Just him. Watching. As if he had been waiting.