Adrian POV
Working with Valeria was like standing in the eye of a storm—dangerously calm, but always on the edge of chaos. A chaos I wasn't sure I could control.
The morning after our encounter at the lounge, I walked into the office with a fresh wave of determination. The memory of her mocking smile lingered, haunting me more than I cared to admit. She was like a puzzle, every piece leading me in circles, challenging me to find the edge. I wanted to prove to her that I wasn't just another idiot in a suit, drooling over her presence. But as I strode toward her office, I felt something else stirring—a hunger to know more, to peel back her layers until I'd uncovered every secret she guarded so ruthlessly.
When I reached her office, she was at her desk, flipping through a thick stack of documents. The light filtered in from the window behind her, casting her in a glow that made her look almost otherworldly. She barely acknowledged me as I entered, her eyes pinned to the page in front of her.
"Good morning," I said, keeping my tone casual.
She glanced up, one eyebrow raised. "You're early," she noted, as though the fact surprised her.
"I thought you'd appreciate punctuality," I replied smoothly.
"Punctuality, yes. But eagerness… That's a bit too much."
The words were a dismissive jab, but I brushed them off. "Maybe I'm just here to keep an eye on my very unpredictable client."
Her lips curved into a slight smile as she finally set down the papers, her eyes meeting mine with that familiar sharpness. "I can assure you, Mr. Blake, you'll need more than an early arrival to understand me."
The challenge in her voice was unmistakable, and instead of discouraging me, it lit a fire. She was baiting me, pushing to see if I'd bite. But I had no intention of backing down.
I stepped closer, resting my hands on the back of the chair across from her desk. "Maybe you underestimate my patience."
She leaned back in her chair, her gaze never wavering. "Patience. An interesting word coming from you, Mr. Blake." There was a hint of amusement in her tone, a suggestion that she found my attempt at persistence amusing. "Men like you rarely have patience when it comes to things they want."
Her words sliced through me, cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. There was something unnerving about the way she saw right through people, stripping them down to their rawest insecurities. I forced myself to hold her gaze, to keep the bravado up. "You think you have me figured out?"
"I don't need to think." Her tone was cool, dismissive, like she'd made her judgment and had no reason to revisit it.
"Then you'll know I'm not just here to play games," I replied, leaning forward just slightly. "I actually care about what happens to you, Valeria."
She laughed softly, and the sound was as haunting as it was captivating. "You don't even know who I am, Mr. Blake. How can you claim to care about someone you can't possibly understand?"
Her words hung in the air between us, taunting me. I wanted to argue, to insist that I was different, that I wasn't just another pawn she could manipulate. But something in her tone stopped me. It was as if she was daring me to walk away, to admit defeat. And I wasn't about to give her that satisfaction.
Instead, I sank into the chair, crossing one leg over the other, trying to match her air of casual indifference. "Then maybe it's time you helped me understand."
Her expression didn't change, but I saw a flicker of something in her eyes—surprise, maybe, or even a slight interest. She regarded me for a long moment, as though weighing whether I was worth the effort. Then, without a word, she reached for her glass of water, taking a slow sip.
"Understanding isn't a one-way street, Mr. Blake. You think I'm some unsolvable riddle. But what you don't realize is that every step you take toward me reveals something about you, too."
Her words sent a chill down my spine. It was like she was stripping away my defenses, one layer at a time, forcing me to confront truths I didn't want to face. I swallowed, trying to push the unease away, to remind myself that I wasn't the one on trial here.
"Maybe I'm fine with that," I replied, my voice steady, betraying none of the tension simmering beneath the surface. "After all, if there's one thing I know, it's that I'm not afraid of a little risk."
She tilted her head, studying me like I was an equation she was trying to solve. "And what exactly is it that you're risking?"
"Maybe that's the question you should be asking yourself," I countered, my gaze never leaving hers. "You seem so determined to keep everyone at a distance, to push away anyone who tries to get close. But what are you really afraid of, Valeria?"
The words hung in the air, charged with a tension that neither of us dared to break. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something in her eyes, something vulnerable, something real. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that familiar, unbreakable mask.
"Fear isn't a word in my vocabulary," she replied, her voice smooth, unshakable. "I learned a long time ago that fear is just another weakness, and weaknesses are… disposable."
Her words were like a slap, cold and final. But instead of pushing me away, they only drew me in deeper, made me even more determined to break through her walls. I wanted to know what lay beneath that icy exterior, to uncover the secrets she guarded so fiercely.
But then she leaned forward, her gaze boring into mine with a look that sent a shiver down my spine. "If you think you're going to be the one exception, Mr. Blake, the one man who somehow gets under my skin, you're sorely mistaken."
I smirked, unable to resist the challenge. "Maybe I'm just more persistent than you're used to."
"Persistence," she echoed, her voice a low murmur. "A dangerous quality in the wrong hands."
I didn't back down, meeting her gaze with an intensity that matched her own. "Then I guess it's a good thing I'm the right man for the job."
She laughed, but there was no warmth in it, only a sharp, biting edge. "We'll see about that, won't we?"
With that, she turned her attention back to her papers, dismissing me as though I was nothing more than an afterthought. But as I rose to my feet, a thrill shot through me, a feeling I hadn't experienced in years. I wanted to get closer, to strip away the layers of mystery that surrounded her, to make her see me as more than just another suit.
And, in that moment, I realized something that both exhilarated and terrified me: I was already in too deep.