The morning began with a light drizzle in Lorencia, covering the city with a veil of melancholy that seemed to echo Evelyn's thoughts. She sat at the kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a cup of hot tea as she stared out the foggy window. The conversation with Matthew the night before kept spinning in her mind, like a scratched record that insisted on repeating the same song.
"You are more important than you think."
These words bothered her. They made no sense. Evelyn, a graduate student with a simple life and no great ambitions other than to live in peace, did not consider herself important to anyone other than her own family and perhaps Clara. So why was Matthew Oliver, one of the most powerful men in the world, saying this?
She took a sip of tea, the heat of the liquid warming her throat, but not relieving the cold she felt in her chest. The silence of the kitchen was broken by the sound of quick, excited footsteps. Clara appeared in the hallway, her hair tied back in a messy bun and a determined expression on her face.
"Good morning, Miss 'Overthinking'!" Clara announced, throwing herself into the chair next to Evelyn with a loaf of bread in her hand. "It's time for you to tell me what's going on."
Evelyn looked at Clara, who was clearly ready for an interrogation, and sighed.
"There's nothing going on, Clara."
"There's nothing going on?" Clara repeated, arching her eyebrows comically. "So the mysterious man, the fancy note, and the late-night rendezvous in the office of one of the world's biggest CEOs don't count as 'something going on'?"
Evelyn opened her mouth to respond, but realized Clara had a point. Still, how could she explain something she didn't even fully understand?
"It's complicated."
"My friend, complications are the spice of life. Now spill it."
Evelyn hesitated, but she knew Clara wasn't going to give up. So she decided to tell a summarized version, omitting the more... unusual details.
"Okay, okay. Matthew Oliver is a... business acquaintance. He's been helping my family with some projects. Yesterday, he wanted to discuss something important, but he was very vague. He just talked about some threats, nothing specific."
Clara narrowed her eyes, clearly not convinced.
"Are you telling me that the most powerful guy you've ever met called you to his office just to talk about "threats"? Evelyn, I may seem stupid, but I'm not."
"I swear that's all, Clara."
"Hmm." Clara bit down hard on the bread, as if she was trying to chew through Evelyn's stubbornness. "Okay, I'll pretend to believe you. For now."
Evelyn laughed, relieved that Clara didn't insist further, at least not at that moment.
Later, Evelyn was at the hospital, trying to focus on work. But it seemed that everything around her was conspiring to distract her. From the nurse who commented on Matthew's "dangerous charm" to the patients who asked trivial questions that made her irritable.
During the break, she sat in the indoor garden, enjoying the relative calm of the space. It was then that her cell phone vibrated. A message from an unknown number.
"I hope you slept well. See you soon."
Evelyn frowned. There was no signature, but something about the formality of the text screamed "Matthew." She replied with a brief message:
"Be more specific."
The reply came in seconds:
"Tonight. Sienne Restaurant. Come alone."
Evelyn stared at the screen, her heart racing. On the one hand, she was intrigued. On the other, she felt a growing irritation. Who did he think he was to give orders like that?
But deep down, she knew she would.
That evening, Evelyn walked into Sienne, one of Lorencia's most upscale restaurants. The ambiance was elegant, with low lights, candles on the tables, and soft instrumental music playing in the background. She felt out of place for a moment, but then she lifted her head and walked confidently.
Matthew was already there, sitting at a table in the corner, his posture impeccable and his gaze scrutinizing her from the moment she walked through the door. He stood up when she approached, a polite gesture that took her by surprise.
"You came." His voice was low, but it carried a tone of satisfaction.
"It seems you didn't give me much of a choice, huh?" Evelyn replied, pulling out her chair and sitting down before he could.
Matthew laughed softly, something rare and unexpected.
"I didn't mean to sound bossy."
"No? Because you're great at it." She crossed her arms, challenging him.
He leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on hers. "Sometimes, urgency demands it."
The waiter interrupted, bringing the menu, and the conversation was suspended for a few minutes. Evelyn ordered something light, while Matthew seemed to choose with the precision of someone who already knew the menu by heart.
When the waiter left, Matthew returned to the subject, but more directly this time.
"Evelyn, I don't want to alarm you, but I need you to trust me. There are people watching my every move, and consequently, your every move."
Evelyn arched an eyebrow.
"And why would I be interesting to them?"
Matthew paused, as if considering how much to reveal.
"Because you're close to me. And because, without knowing it, you're an important piece in something much bigger."
"Piece?" Evelyn repeated, feeling her irritation return. "I'm not an object, Matthew."
"I know that." His voice was serious, almost dark. "That's why I'm trying to protect you."
Evelyn wanted to retort, but there was something in his intensity that made her hesitate. He seemed sincere, but also extremely cautious. It was as if he were carrying a weight he couldn't fully share.
"Okay. I'll trust you. For now. But I want answers, Matthew. Truths, not riddles."
He nodded, looking relieved.
"You'll get them, in due time."
Evelyn snorted, but didn't insist. Something told her that forcing answers at that moment would only complicate things even more.
As they ate dinner, the conversation turned to lighter subjects, and for a brief moment, Evelyn almost forgot about the complications around her. Matthew seemed more relaxed, and even gave a genuine smile or two.
When the night was over, he walked her to the door of the restaurant, insisting on calling a car to take her back. Evelyn accepted, but with one condition:
"Next time, I'll pick the place."
Matthew inclined his head, his usual enigmatic smile returning.
"Deal."
As the car drove away, Evelyn stared out the window, watching the city lights flash by. She knew she was entering something bigger than she could understand at that moment. But somehow, she couldn't pull herself away.
And for the first time in a long time, she felt like her life was about to change completely.
The day dawned lazy in Lorencia, with the sky painted in gray tones and the distant sound of horns composing the soundtrack of the city. Evelyn woke up to the shy light that invaded the room, reflecting on the furniture and creating a soft contrast between the comfort of the bed and the reality outside. She reached out, reaching for her cell phone on the bedside table. No new messages.
She took a deep breath, still trying to process dinner with Matthew. Every word he said seemed loaded with an invisible weight, as if there was a hidden meaning in every pause, every look. It irritated her. She didn't like riddles, but somehow she couldn't ignore the mystery.
"Important piece," he had said. But piece of what?
She stood up slowly, her bare feet touching the cold floor. The house was silent, except for the soft sound of the wind blowing against the window. Clara was still asleep, and Evelyn took advantage of the moment of peace to make herself some coffee. In the kitchen, she opened the curtains and watched the movement of the street, the people hurrying by, the shops opening. The aroma of coffee soon filled the room, bringing a familiar comfort.
As she drank her first cup, she began to mentally organize her day: hospital in the morning, library in the afternoon, and maybe a little time to think about everything that was happening. But her plans were interrupted when Clara appeared in the kitchen, with messy hair and an expression of someone who hadn't slept enough.
"Good morning, drama queen!" Clara joked, pulling up a chair and throwing herself into it with the elegance of a sack of potatoes. "Did you dream about the mysterious Matthew Oliver?"
Evelyn rolled her eyes, handing Clara a cup of coffee.
"You don't give up, do you?"
"Not at all." Clara took a sip of her drink and grimaced. "Ugh, bitter. Just like your attitude."
Evelyn laughed, feeling lighter at the teasing. Clara always had that effect on her, turning any tension into something bearable.
"Seriously, Ev." Clara set the cup down and crossed her arms. "You've been different since you met this guy. I don't know if it's good or bad, but it's different."
Evelyn hesitated, but decided to be honest.
"I think it's because he makes me think about things I've never considered before. Like... what it means to really trust someone."
Clara raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.
"Getting deep now, huh?"
Evelyn shrugged, trying to hide her discomfort.
"Maybe. But enough of that. I have to get ready for the hospital."
Clara sighed, realizing the conversation was over, at least for now.
At the hospital, Evelyn threw herself into her work, trying to keep her mind off Matthew. The steady stream of patients, challenging cases, and interactions with colleagues kept her busy. But deep down, she knew she was only delaying the inevitable.
During her break, she sat in the hospital cafeteria, where the aroma of fresh food mingled with the sound of low conversations and hurried footsteps. She was reading a textbook on pharmacology when a shadow fell across the table. She looked up to find Dr. Elias, one of the hospital's most respected surgeons, looking at her with a curious smile.
"Studying even during your break, Evelyn?" he asked, pulling out a chair to sit down.
"Trying," she replied with a shy smile.
"That's admirable. But be careful not to get lost in books and forget about the real world. Sometimes, what we learn in practice is more valuable."
Evelyn nodded, thinking he was right. Lately, it seemed like she was torn between two worlds: that of logic and that of confused emotions.
In the afternoon, she went to the university library, a place that had always brought her peace. The high walls, filled with books, the smell of aged paper, and the welcoming silence created a perfect refuge. Evelyn found a table by the window and concentrated on her studies, but once again, her thoughts wandered.
Memories of Russia came flooding back: the elegant dinners, Nycolas's cold stares, the constant feeling of being judged. Compared to that, Matthew was a fascinating enigma. He had an air of danger, but also something genuine, as if he were trying to protect her from something greater.
As she flipped through the pages of a book, she felt her cell phone vibrate. A new message.
"Trust me. You're safer than you think."
It was Matthew again. Evelyn pressed her lips together, irritated by his insistence on being so vague. But at the same time, there was comfort in the words.
She took a deep breath, responding with a simple:
"I hope you know what you're doing."
He didn't answer, and Evelyn decided it was for the best.
Later, back at the apartment, she found Clara on the couch, eating popcorn and watching some cheesy reality show.
"Finally home!" Clara exclaimed, patting the pillow next to her. "Come here, keep me company."
Evelyn laughed, but accepted the invitation, throwing herself on the couch next to her friend.
"How was your day?" Clara asked, offering the bucket of popcorn.
"Normal. Nothing exciting." Evelyn replied, taking a handful of popcorn.
"You're lying, but it's okay."
They both laughed, and for a moment, everything seemed simple and peaceful. But Evelyn knew the calm was only temporary. There was something going on, something Matthew knew that she had yet to find out.
And somehow I felt like the answer was closer than I thought.