She sat in front of the mirror and let out a long, tired sigh.
There was thunder outside, Rain's gentle patter on the roof like a soft caution.
It was half past six in the morning.
She leaned forward, her neck canted slightly,checking for the umpteenth time, fingers tracing along the side of her neck. The faint, purplish smudge still lingered. Her brows twitched. Still there.
She sighed again, eyes shut, one hand on her forehead, trying to remember what happened last night.
But her memory stayed blank.
Then, her phone rang, sharp and loud, cutting through her thoughts.
She glanced at the screen.
Mr. Morelli.
"Ugh," she hissed under her breath. What does he want this early?
She glanced at the phone momentarily and then hesitantly picked it up.
"Mr. Morelli, now really isn't the time…" she said, slumping in her hand, her voice tired.
She wasn't due at work until eight. She needed time. Time to breathe. Time to think. Time to process whatever the hell this was.
But his voice came in, sharp and serious.
"It's about your father."
Her heart skipped a beat.
Her head snapped up, eyes wide. The room fell still. Even the rain seemed to pause.
"…What about him?"
It wasn't so much concern for her father, she barely knew how to feel about him anymore. It was the strange weight in her boss's tone.
"Come in early today. We'll talk."
She paused.
"…Yes. Okay."
The line went dead.
She put the phone down on the dresser and stared at her reflection for a while, hoping that it would give her some answers. The rain had not stopped. Neither had the throb at the edge of her temple.
Then she sighed again, slower this time and looked away.
+++++++++++
"Boss, it's your mum," the dark-haired bodyguard said as he entered the room and quietly shut the door behind him.
He held out the phone toward Dario
Dario didn't even look up.
"Leave her on hold," he said, voice low, almost empty. He kept buttoning his shirt, unmoved.
What did she want this early?
"Okay," the bodyguard, Luca muttered, gave a slight nod, and turned to leave.
"Where's she?" Dario said after a beat.
Luca paused. "Who?"
The room fell quiet. Dead quiet.
No one questioned Dario twice.
Luca shot him a backward glance. Dario's dark stare pinned him in place. Then it clicked.
"She left," he said carefully. His voice dipped.
Uncertain.
He still didn't get it. Boss never cared when girls left. So why did this one feel... different? What changed?
"And you let her." Dario stepped closer, slow and quiet.
"I thought you did, boss. Really," he swallowed, uneasy now.
Dario paused, fixing the cuffs of his shirt like nothing was wrong.
"You know…" he began, almost casually, "you've been a loyal dog," his voice calm and steady. "To me. To my father. I could have you drop dead right now…"
He looked at him, almost bored.
"But I respect loyalty."
He patted Luca on the shoulder.
Another bodyguard, taller, built like stone, stepped forward, holding out Dario's suit jacket. Dario slid into it, silent.
Without another word, he walked out. They followed.
++++++++++
"Thank you so much," she called out as she stepped out of the café with a cup of cappuccino.
Leighton clutched her brown leather coat tighter against the morning chill and took a slow sip.
Inside the glass building, she signed in at the reception with her ID and made her way to her boss's office. She hung her coat on the stand and dropped into her chair.
Her eyes landed on the beer tumbler on the table. And just like that, flashes of last night came creeping back.
I was at a bar… with… what was his name? Matt? No, Matthew. Wait, maybe it was Matteo. Gosh, did I even get the name right?
She let out a sigh and set her cappuccino down.
She glanced at her watch. It was only 7:45 AM. Adrian wasn't here yet.
She stood up, floating towards his chair, fingers tracing the edge of his desk as if smudging the dirt from the dust-colored memories. Every inch of the room reminded her of a memory she hoped to forget soon.
She stopped when she got to where the chair was.
The "World's Best Dad" mug stopped her. Blue letters on white ceramic, looking almost brand new. She hadn't seen it there before.
She didn't hear when the glass door opened.
"That was from my daughter. Father's Day gift," came a husky voice from behind her. The door shut with a soft click.
Leighton didn't turn. Her eyes stayed on the mug, jaw shifting.
"You had a daughter. And a wife. And I didn't know. You never thought to mention them?"
Adrian Morelli exhaled slowly. He wasn't ready for this conversation. Not now.
"You wanted in on the case…"
"Yeah? And who showed up the next day with a bouquet of roses?" She bristled and spun around to face him.
He was still in his coat, glasses steamed from being outside, two cups in his hands, one black shot of espresso, one cappuccino.
"Leigh…" he said gently, brows knitting.
She closed her eyes, forcing out a breath. "This isn't what we came here for, right?"
Back in her seat, she watched him take off his coat, wipe his glasses with a folded hanky, and sit down.
"Coffee?" He slid the cappuccino toward her.
"Thanks," she murmured, not touching it.
Adrian leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "Your father…" he started. Leighton straightened up on her seat.
"He has withdrawn all his support for your internship here. He also threatened me and the firm if I don't let you go."
"And you'll do it, won't you?" she asked flatly, eyes locked on him.
"No no no," he rushed. " But…it might be my last option."
"He mentioned a firm in America already lined up to take you in."
She rolled her eyes.
"He also sent an email. Said you never had his approval to begin with."
That's when it all clicked,the missed calls, the unread texts. The reason she'd ended up in that bar. And why she woke up in… his place this morning. The scary guy's name wasn't Matteo after all,he'd just called the bartender that.
"I think you should talk to him, Leigh. He'll listen."
"Yes, Mr. Morelli. I'll do just that." She did not notice the thin bead of blood forming where her thumbnail dug into the skin.
"Maybe Daddy's just being a little bit overprotective," Adrian whispered into her ear.
She gasped,she hadn't even realised he'd moved from his chair. His hands were lightly positioned on her shoulders. The tears came fast, but she blinked them away.
"My wife cheated on me," he said quietly. "Filed for divorce. We were still in the middle of it when I met you. I didn't think that was useful information then." His voice was low, just above a whisper.
She turned to him. There was barely an inch between their faces. She wanted to say something.
The knock on the door stopped her.