The sound of the rain against the windows of Evelyn's apartment was almost hypnotizing. The drops ran down the glass like small rivers in formation, creating a peaceful but at the same time melancholic scene. The living room light was off, and only the blue glow of the television illuminated the room. Clara had already gone to sleep, leaving Evelyn alone on the couch with her thoughts.
She held a mug of hot tea between her hands, the steam rising and warming her face as she tried to focus on anything other than Matthew's message. He always knew the right or wrong moment to appear, depending on the point of view.
"Trust me." It was easy to say that, but Evelyn had trusted too much in people who only hurt her. Nycolas had been the greatest lesson of all. How could she believe that Matthew, a man shrouded in secrets, would be any different?
She closed her eyes, letting herself be carried away by the sound of the rain and the aroma of the tea. But instead of relaxing, her mind was filled with memories.
The house in Russia. The coldness in Nycolas' eyes. The burden of living to please. Every detail of that life that seemed like a bad movie ran through her head like a cruel replay.
"Stop it, Evelyn," she muttered to herself, shaking her head in an attempt to push her thoughts away.
Decided to change the course of that night, she got up from the couch and went to her bedroom. She turned on a lamp and took an old notebook that was at the bottom of the drawer. It was her diary. She hadn't written in it since she left Russia, but at that moment it seemed like a good idea.
"Today was a strange day. I don't know what to think about Matthew. He's... complicated. Mysterious. And, damn, annoyingly interesting. Why would someone like him care about me? And more importantly, why do I care so much about what he says? Maybe it's the mystery. Or maybe I'm just starved for attention. Whatever it is, I need to hold on tight. I can't let anyone manipulate me again."
She closed the notebook tightly, as if to seal those thoughts inside her. But deep down, she knew that the written words weren't enough to silence the restlessness in her chest.
The next morning, Evelyn woke to the sound of her alarm clock. The sky was still overcast, and the air felt colder than usual. She dressed quickly, opting for something comfortable to face another day at the hospital. When she walked into the kitchen, Clara was sitting at the table, flipping through a magazine.
"Good morning, mistress of the world!" Clara said, without looking up from the magazine. "Did you sleep well or were you thinking about your "mysterious crush"?"
Evelyn rolled her eyes, already used to the teasing.
"I slept very well, thank you. And Matthew is not my crush."
"I know... And I am the Queen of England." Clara giggled and went back to flipping through the pages.
After a quick coffee, Evelyn left the apartment and headed to the hospital. On the way, the streets of Lorencia were bustling as always. Cars hurried by, people rushing to catch buses, and the aroma of coffee wafting from small cafes scattered along the sidewalk. It was an organized mess, and somehow Evelyn found comfort in that chaos.
The hospital was busy as always, with nurses and doctors walking around, and patients waiting in the consulting rooms. Evelyn immersed herself in her work, treating cases ranging from simple colds to more complex situations.
But, in a moment of pause, while she was in the doctors' lounge, she overheard a conversation that left her intrigued. Two nurses were talking quietly in the corner of the room, as if they were sharing a secret.
"Did you hear about that CEO who got shot last week?" one of them said. "Sounds like he's involved in some serious stuff."
"Really?" the other replied, her eyes widening. "I heard he's super discreet, but nobody's innocent in this business, right?"
Evelyn pretended to be fiddling with her phone, but her ears were perked up to every word. Could they be talking about Matthew? She tried to ignore it, but it was impossible not to wonder what he was hiding.
That night, back at the apartment, Evelyn threw herself on the couch, exhausted. Clara hadn't arrived yet, which gave her a rare moment of silence. She was about to pick up a book when her phone vibrated on the coffee table.
It was another message from Matthew:
"We need to talk. Tomorrow, at 7 p.m. I'll send you the address."
She read the message several times, trying to decide whether to respond. Part of her wanted to ignore him, but another part, the curious and stubborn part, knew he would show up.
She replied with a simple,
"I'll be there."
Evelyn didn't know what was in store for her, but somehow she felt like that conversation could change everything.
The next morning, the day began like any other. But as the time for the meeting approached, Evelyn felt her anxiety growing. When the clock struck 6:30 p.m., she was ready, wearing a simple but elegant dress and a jacket to protect herself from the cold.
The address Matthew had sent her was for a discreet restaurant in the center of Lorencia. When she arrived, she was shown to a table in the back, where he was already waiting for her.
Matthew was impeccably dressed as always, but there was something different in his gaze that night. He seemed more serious, almost vulnerable, which made Evelyn even more curious.
"Thank you for coming," he said, standing up to greet her.
Evelyn sat down, crossing her arms.
"You said you needed to talk. I'm here."
Matthew hesitated for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully.
"There are things you need to know. Things about me... and about the danger you may be facing."
Evelyn felt a chill. "What kind of danger?"
Matthew looked at her, his eyes filled with an intensity that made her heart race.
"I can only explain it to you if you're willing to trust me."
And at that moment, Evelyn realized she was about to enter a world she had never imagined.
The next day dawned slowly, as if time itself wanted to give Evelyn a breather to process everything that had happened the night before. The apartment was immersed in a rare tranquility. The distant sound of horns and footsteps on the street was muffled by the double-glazed window. Evelyn opened her eyes slowly, still feeling the weight of her conversation with Matthew.
She turned over in bed, staring at the ceiling. The morning light timidly entered through the half-open curtains, creating soft patterns on the walls. "Danger." That word echoed in her head like a song she couldn't stop humming.
"Danger..." she murmured to herself, with a hint of irony. "As if I didn't have enough problems already."
Standing up, she shuffled to the kitchen. The aroma of fresh coffee already filled the room. Clara, as always, was up before her. Her friend had a morning energy that Evelyn would never understand.
"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Clara greeted, with a mug in her hand and a smile that seemed too big for that hour.
Evelyn grunted in response, going straight to the coffee pot. : Don't talk to me until I drink this."
Clara gave a short laugh, but didn't insist. She knew Evelyn needed a few minutes to really wake up. While the other poured herself coffee, Clara sat at the counter, watching her as if analyzing a complicated puzzle.
"So..." she began, with a casual tone that Evelyn knew was anything but casual. "Are you going to tell me what really happened yesterday?"
Evelyn sighed, leaning against the sink with the mug in her hands. The warm liquid seemed to calm her nerves a little, but it still wasn't enough.
"You're not going to believe it."
"Try it."
Evelyn hesitated for a moment, her eyes fixed on the coffee. Finally, she began to speak, trying to explain everything objectively. She told her about Matthew's warning, the vague mentions of danger, and the revelation about the assassination attempt.
Clara listened to her in silence, but her eyes grew wider and wider. When Evelyn finished, her friend burst out laughing in disbelief.
"Are you telling me that this mysterious, handsome CEO is, like, a dark James Bond?"
"Clara!" Evelyn exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "That's not funny."
"Sorry, but it's kind of surreal, right?" Clara leaned her elbow on the counter, looking at Evelyn with an amused smile. "You left a toxic marriage, moved to a new city, started graduate school, and now you're in the middle of a spy novel?"
Evelyn couldn't help but laugh, despite herself. Clara had a way of making things seem less terrible than they were.
"Okay, but seriously now." Clara straightened up, becoming a little more serious. "Do you trust this guy?"
The question took Evelyn by surprise. She bit her lip, thinking. Trust? Matthew was enigmatic, secretive, and clearly hiding a lot. But there was something about him, something in his eyes, that made Evelyn want to believe.
"I don't know," she finally admitted. "But I think he's being honest about the danger."
Clara nodded slowly, as if processing the answer.
"Well, just promise me you'll be careful, okay? Because, seriously, I'm not ready to be the star of a true crime documentary."
Evelyn smiled, but there was a weight on her chest that coffee couldn't ease.
Later, as she walked to the hospital for another shift, Evelyn tried to gather her thoughts. The morning chill made her footsteps echo on the stone sidewalks. The scarf wrapped around her neck wasn't enough to completely block the biting wind.
She was still thinking about Matthew's words. "If you get too close to me, you could become a target." It was scary, no doubt, but also intriguing. Who was he really?
Arriving at the hospital, Evelyn forced herself to put those thoughts aside. There were patients waiting, real and immediate problems that needed her attention.
The shift started out smoothly, with Evelyn taking care of routine cases. But, mid-afternoon, something unexpected happened.
As she was filling out a chart, she heard quick footsteps down the hallway. A nurse entered the room, her face pale with concern.
"Evelyn, there's someone at the front desk who wants to talk to you."
"Who is it?" she asked, standing up.
"I don't know. He said it's… urgent."
Evelyn frowned, feeling a shiver run down her spine. She followed the nurse to the front desk, where she found a man in a dark suit. He looked out of place there, as if he were used to more refined environments.
"Evelyn LaMont?" he asked, his voice firm.
"Yes, it's me. Who are you?"
He handed her a card, but Evelyn barely had time to read it before he continued.
"Mr. Oliver asked me to give you this."
Evelyn looked at the envelope he held out. It was small and inconspicuous, but it seemed to carry an invisible weight.
"What is this?"
"Instructions." The man said nothing more, just stepped back and left, leaving Evelyn standing there, confused.
She walked back into an empty room and opened the envelope. Inside was a note in Matthew's handwriting.
"Evelyn, we need to talk again. I found something important. Call this number as soon as you can."
Below was a phone number. Evelyn sighed, folding the paper and tucking it into her lab coat pocket.
When her shift finally ended, Evelyn decided not to go home right away. Instead, she went to a nearby café, where she ordered a tea and sat in a discreet corner. She took the note from her pocket, staring at the number for a few seconds before dialing.
Matthew answered on the second ring.
"Evelyn."
"I don't know what you want, but this is getting to be too much, Matthew." She got straight to the point.
"I understand." His voice was low and serious. "But you need to hear this. It's important."
"Then tell me."
"Not over the phone." He paused. "There's something you need to see. Can you come over to my place?"
Evelyn hesitated. Going over to his place? That seemed... risky. But curiosity got the better of her.
"Okay. Send me the address."