After dealing with the drunk man, Selene Maristelle returns to work, shaking off the lingering tension. But she isn’t aware of the pair of eyes watching her every move.
Nia Solenne
(whispering) You could’ve gotten fired for that, you know?
Selene Maristelle
(calmly) And let that creep get away? Not happening.
Nia Solenne
(groans) You’re impossible.
Selene smirks as she adjusts her apron. Nia Solenne—her closest friend at the café—had always warned her to avoid trouble. But trouble had a way of finding her regardless.
---
Across the café, Lucian Vale watched. He had planned to leave after his meeting, but then he saw her.
The way she moved. The way she fought.
It wasn’t just reckless bravery—it was precision. Control. Training.
He leaned back in his seat, fingers tapping rhythmically against his glass.
Lucian Vale
(murmuring) Where have I seen you before, little fighter?
---
Selene feels the weight of a gaze. Her instincts sharpen.
She turns. Their eyes meet.
A slow, deliberate stare. A man dressed in all black, his suit tailored to perfection. Sharp jaw, unreadable expression. Something in his gaze feels… familiar.
Selene Maristelle
(internally) Who…?
Nia Solenne
(nudging her) You okay?
Selene Maristelle
(blinking) Yeah… just thought I—
She looks back. The man is gone.
---
Selene brushes off the feeling, but she has no idea that she’s already caught his attention.
And Lucian Vale never loses interest in something he wants.
Comments