Elias sits in his office, the logistics report forgotten in his hand.
His thoughts stray—not with intent, but with ease. They drift to her.
Leila.
She never dresses to be noticed, and yet he notices everything. The scarf always wound gently around her neck, the wide-leg jeans, the modest tops that bare little—but somehow reveal everything about who she is.
But it's not just what she wears.
It's how she exists in the world.
Head held high, eyes steady—until a man passes, and her gaze lowers in instinct, not submission. In crowds, she weaves with measured grace, never brushing shoulders, always keeping her space. She moves like someone raised on quiet rules and hard-earned self-respect.
People are drawn to her—professors, classmates, strangers. She's neither cold nor overly warm, but she listens like their words matter. Elias knows the power of that. In a world full of noise, Leila is stillness.
And stillness, to a man like him, is unnerving.
He reaches for the tablet lying nearby and taps the intercom.
"Kai."
A second later, the door opens with the practiced ease of someone already listening.
"She's at the public library," Kai says, dropping into a chair without invitation. "Hasn't left since morning. Apparently working on some research paper."
Elias raises a brow.
"And you didn't think to tell me sooner?"
Kai groans. "Because you've made me your Leila-tracker now? This is a full-time position, boss. Should I submit a formal complaint?"
But Elias is already grabbing his coat.
The public library of Milan stands quiet beneath the late afternoon haze.
Inside, tucked into a corner by the tall windows, Leila is completely immersed. Her laptop screen glows with academic articles, fingers moving quickly across the keyboard. She doesn't notice the way the light changes or how time slips by. Every now and then, she lifts her hand and absently chews the nail of her thumb—an anxious habit she never quite grew out of.
From behind a bookshelf, Elias watches her. Hidden in the space between literature and law, he sees everything.
The frown of concentration.
The quick pauses to reread her sentences.
The way she presses her lips together when a thought finally comes together on the page.
He shouldn't be here. He knows that.
But something about watching her—just being—feels more real than most conversations he's had in years.
Kai, leaning against the end of a shelf, huffs quietly. "You dragged me out here for this? She's writing a paper."
Elias doesn't answer.
Kai squints toward Leila. "She's… biting her nails."
A pause.
"You're staring like she's defusing a bomb."
Still, Elias says nothing.
Not yet.
Suddenly, Leila's phone buzzes. She glances down, then smiles faintly.
Sofia.
She answers and holds the phone between her ear and shoulder as she continues typing.
"No, I haven't moved. Yes, I've been here since morning. No, I'm not going to turn into a library ghost."
Her voice lightens.
"Sofia, I'm working on my research paper—"
She pauses, listening.
"Fashion show? Now?" She sighs. "Okay… okay. You win. Give me twenty minutes."
She ends the call, closes her laptop gently, and begins gathering her things.
Elias watches her rise—smooth and quiet, like a shadow slipping out of a story.
And for the first time since he arrived, he speaks.
"We're following her."
Kai stares. "You realize this is borderline creepy now, right?"
Elias simply smiles.
"Not if we stay in the dark."
The sky begins to melt into evening as Leila walks back toward her dorm, a canvas tote slung over one shoulder, balancing her laptop and notes in her arms.
Unaware of the two shadows trailing her.
Elias and Kai keep a respectful distance—close enough to follow, far enough to remain unseen. At least, that's the plan.
"This is absurd," Kai mutters under his breath. "We're trailing a woman to her dorm like teenage spies. You realize how this looks?"
Elias doesn't respond. He's too focused.
She walks lightly, almost floating, pausing only once to check her phone. Then continues toward a narrow residential lane lined with dorm buildings.
They watch her enter the side entrance of her residence hall.
"That's it," Kai says. "You saw her safe. Now we go."
Elias doesn't move. Instead, he nods to the parked café across the road.
"Ten minutes. I want to be sure she gets inside properly."
Kai sighs dramatically but follows.
From the dorm window on the second floor, a light flickers on.
Inside, Leila unlocks the door to her shared dorm room and gently sets her things down. She stretches her arms and exhales slowly.
The quiet is comforting.
Until the door bursts open behind her.
"I swear, if you don't change in ten minutes, I will drag you in your pajamas to that fashion show," says Sofia, dramatically holding up a hanger with a silk blouse and blazer.
Leila laughs. "I literally just walked in."
"No excuses! You promised. I already picked your outfit—something modest but stunning. I'll even do your makeup. Soft tones. No eyeliner wings, I promise."
"You act like this is war," Leila jokes, shaking her head.
Sofia twirls in place. "Darling, fashion is war. But I came armed."
From outside, through the open second-floor window, Elias watches the lights flicker and hears faint laughter echo from the room above.
He doesn't know why it makes him breathe easier.
He only knows… it does.