The skyline stretched out beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of Liam Alcaraz's office, a sprawl of glass towers glittering under the late-morning sun. He leaned back in his leather chair, one hand wrapped loosely around a cooling cup of black coffee as he scanned the last page of a quarterly report. Numbers—clean, precise, controllable. People were far messier.
"Anabel," he said without looking up.
His secretary, efficient to the point of intimidation, stepped in from her desk just outside his office. "Yes, sir?"
"That law firm you contacted for the new corporate account—Aldrin & Vale—are they confirmed for Monday's meeting?"
Anabel's red lacquered nails tapped lightly against her tablet. "No need to worry, Mr. Alcaraz. They're sending one of their best. In fact, Richard Vale himself will be there... along with the lawyer who'll personally handle your account."
Liam set the report aside, interest pricking. "And?"
Anabel's eyes lit with a hint of intrigue. "Word around the industry is, this lawyer's a bar topnotcher. Young, sharp, and apparently... quite the heartbreaker."
His brows lifted slightly. "Heartbreaker?"
"That's the rumor." She gave a little shrug. "I'm only repeating what I've heard from one of Vale's former clients. Men get distracted around her."
A smirk tugged at the corner of Liam's mouth. "You know me, Anabel. No beauty can mesmerize me."
It wasn't arrogance—it was fact. He'd seen the game, played it, and was no longer easily moved by a pretty face. Or so he told himself.
Because there was one exception. One woman whose memory still had the power to pull him out of his own armor, even after all these years. Mia Villaruiz.
He didn't say her name aloud. Didn't need to. The ghost of her smile was enough to make his jaw tighten before he pushed the thought away.
"Let's see if this heartbreaker can live up to the hype," he said lightly, picking up his pen again. "Email me her credentials before the meeting."
"Yes, sir."
When Anabel left, closing the door behind her, Liam stared for a moment at the city skyline, his mind uncharacteristically unfocused. Whoever this lawyer was, she'd better be ready. In his world, charm didn't win contracts—strategy and fire did. And if she thought she could outplay him, she'd find out quickly how wrong she was.
The conference room smelled faintly of fresh coffee and ambition. Sunlight spilled through the glass walls, pooling over the polished mahogany table where the senior partners of Aldrin & Vale Law sat in crisp suits, their voices low but decisive.
Mia Villaruiz sat straight-backed at the far end, pen in hand, though she hadn't written a word. She didn't need to. She'd been here long enough to recognize the setup—the small talk that sharpened into strategy, the sudden hush before her name was called.
"Mia," said Richard Vale, the kind of man whose voice carried even when he spoke casually. "You'll be coming with me to meet a client this Monday. Big account. Very big."
Her brows lifted slightly. "How big are we talking?"
Vale leaned back, studying her. "The CEO is... let's just say, one of the toughest I've dealt with. Young. Aggressive. Knows how to win, and doesn't mind making enemies in the process. Most of our lawyers wouldn't dare take him on."
A spark of interest lit in Mia's eyes. "And you think I should?"
"I think you can handle him," Vale said, his mouth curling faintly. Then, with a hint of mischief, he added, "Maybe you can even bend him a little. You know... with your charm. You have an effect on men."
Mia didn't flinch, didn't feed into it. "I'll stick to my wit and strategy," she replied smoothly. "Those have never failed me."
Vale chuckled. "That's exactly why you're coming with me."
She didn't press for details—not his name, not the company. It was Friday, and she'd already decided her weekend would be for herself. She wanted to savor the anticipation without drowning in prep work just yet.
There would be time for strategy on Monday; tonight was for garlic and rosemary, the warm glow of her kitchen, and maybe a glass of wine while the city lights flickered on.
As she left the room, folder still unopened, her pulse thrummed with the quiet rush that came from being trusted with something big. Another high-profile challenge, another chance to prove why she was the one Vale always called when the stakes were highest.
She didn't know yet who was waiting for her on Monday. And she liked it that way.
The elevator ride down from the twenty-third floor was unusually crowded for a Friday evening. Everyone seemed to be buzzing—heels clicking, ties loosened, voices warm with weekend anticipation.
"Come on, Mia," Rina from litigation grinned as she scrolled through her phone. "We're heading to Sorrento's for dinner, then drinks at Avalon. It's Friday—you can't seriously be going home."
Mia adjusted the strap of her bag, offering a polite smile. "I'm skipping this one. Rain check?"
"Rain check?" another colleague, Mark, arched a brow. "You live two blocks from Avalon. What's the excuse?"
"No excuse. I just want to cook at home."
"Ohhh," Rina smirked. "Translation: there's someone waiting for her in her cozy place."
The rest of the group laughed, tossing out a few half-teasing, half-curious remarks. Mia just smiled, stepping back to let a senior partner pass through the elevator doors. "Enjoy your night, everyone."
The teasing followed her out of the lobby into the crisp air. Weekend energy pulsed in the city—streetlights blinking awake, neon signs humming, and the mingled scents of coffee and grilled food drifting from the corner cafés. Couples strolled by with linked hands, laughing.
Her phone stayed silent.
No message from Josh—he was away visiting his mother's side of the family. No message from Daniel either—he was also out of town for a regional conference.
By the time she reached her three-bedroom condominium unit, the lively city had faded into a cocoon of stillness. She dropped her bag on the counter, flicked on the soft kitchen light, and glanced at the cutting board propped neatly against the backsplash.
Cooking for one wasn't the same. She'd told her colleagues she wanted to cook, and it was true, but without someone sitting across the table, the ritual felt like an echo.
She poured a glass of water and leaned against the counter. The chair opposite hers was empty, the quiet thick enough to make her aware of every tick of the clock.
Loneliness wasn't new to her. She'd worn it like armor for years. Still, there were nights like this when she wished—just for a moment—that someone would walk through the door without needing to be invited.
Mia set her jaw, reached into the fridge, and took out rosemary and garlic. If she was going to be alone, she'd at least make the evening hers.
The weekend had come and gone in a blur of errands and quiet meals. By Monday, Mia's focus was razor-sharp again. She arrived early, the crisp click of her heels echoing against the marble lobby floor.
In her bag sat the unopened folder Richard Vale had handed her Friday afternoon. She hadn't asked for the client's name, partly because she liked walking into things fresh, but also because she'd wanted to savor the mystery.
By the time she reached her desk, Vale's message was waiting: Meet me in the conference room at 9:30. We're heading out afterward.
The hours leading up to the meeting stretched thin, taut with the kind of anticipation she lived for. Another high-profile account. Another chance to prove she was worth the top spot on Vale's roster.
She didn't know yet that the day's challenge wasn't just going to be the negotiation.
"Anabel," he said without glancing up.
His secretary entered, tablet in hand, the click of her heels as crisp as her tone. "Yes, sir?"
"That law firm for the expansion contracts—Aldrin & Vale—are they locked in for this morning's meeting?"
"They are," she replied, scanning her notes. "Richard Vale himself will be attending... and he's bringing one of his best attorneys to take point on your account."
"Have them shown in when they arrive," he said, reaching for his pen again, his voice back to cool command.
Anabel nodded. "Of course, sir."
When the door closed behind her, Liam looked out over the city without really seeing it. Whoever this untouchable lawyer was, she'd find out soon enough—charm didn't win with him.
In his world, charm was smoke. He dealt in fire.
The double glass doors of the Alcaraz Tower executive conference room swung open with a soft hiss, the city skyline glittering through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind Liam like a kingdom he owned.
Liam stood at the head of the long polished table, one hand braced on its edge, mid-discussion with his finance director. The low murmur of voices faded the moment Richard Vale stepped in—sharp suit, easy smile, every inch the seasoned negotiator who'd danced through boardrooms like this his entire career.
"Mr. Alcaraz," Vale greeted, crossing the room with an extended hand. "Thank you for making time for us."
Liam shook it, polite but already distracted, his gaze sliding past Vale to the figure that followed him inside.
And then—
Time didn't just slow. It stopped.
She entered like the air belonged to her, the faint click of her heels echoing across marble and glass. Dark hair was swept into a sleek twist, her tailored black dress skimming the graceful lines of a body that moved with quiet authority. She carried only a leather folder, posture straight, eyes scanning the room with razor-sharp focus.
Eyes he knew.
Eyes that had once laughed with him under a rainstorm. That had once looked at him like he was the only man in the world.
Mia.
Eight years had passed, but the impact was instant—like a punch straight to the chest. Her face was sharper now, more defined, but it was her composure that landed hardest. No hesitation. No flicker of the past. If she felt the same shock, she hid it behind a mask so flawless it could have been carved from glass.
"Mr. Alcaraz," Vale said, gesturing between them, "this is Attorney Villaruiz—she'll be leading the legal side of your expansion contracts."
Her gaze met his, cool and unreadable. "Mr. Alcaraz," she said, voice clipped, perfectly professional.
No smile. No warmth. Not even a trace of recognition anyone else could see.
Liam's jaw tightened. "Attorney Villaruiz." His tone was equally controlled, though an unspoken current crackled between them. "Welcome."
Vale, oblivious to the weight in the room, began his usual small talk as they all took their seats. Liam sat opposite her, his attention fixed on the neat rows of contracts before him, though his senses were locked on her every movement.
She was here. In his tower. In his boardroom.
Eight years of silence erased in a single, unbearable heartbeat.
And this time, he couldn't walk away.