Coffee splashed across his jacket. Selina froze, tray trembling in her hands. Dark liquid seeped down the expensive fabric, leaving a vivid stain. Customers gasped; murmurs rippled through the café.
Just a minute ago, she had been half-asleep, throwing on whatever she could find, barely brushing her hair, tossing on clothes in a frantic blur after a desperate call from her friend.
"Who let you serve me?" The voice was sharp, low, edged with controlled fury. Andre Vale's dark eyes locked onto her, ice cutting through the warm morning light streaming from the windows. His presence sucked the warmth out of the room.
Selina's stomach dropped. His gaze was magnetic, intimidating, yet captivating. The café seemed to shrink around him, every whisper amplified.
"I-I'm so sorry!" she stammered, fumbling to steady the tray. Another bead of coffee trembled dangerously, threatening to spill further. Her hands shook as though the room itself was testing her composure.
Andre didn't move. Didn't flinch. His gaze pinned her in place, unwavering, cold, and sharp as a blade. Behind him, his friend Gabriel leaned casually, though even he seemed impressed by the scene unfolding.
"She… she actually stands there instead of running," Gabriel muttered under his breath, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Selina swallowed hard, cheeks flaming. "I… I didn't mean—"
"Didn't mean?" Andre's tone cut through the café like ice. "You ruined my jacket, and now you talk back?"
Her pulse hammered, but her temper flared. "Maybe if someone paid attention instead of expecting perfection, this wouldn't have happened!"
A hush fell over the café. Customers froze mid-sip, some smirking, some wide-eyed. The audacity of her words in front of such a man, it was breathtaking. Andre blinked once. Then again. She dared to speak back to him. And she wasn't shaking.
Andre's jaw tightened. Normally, no one dared meet his gaze and stand firm. And yet here she was: tiny, flustered, naive, but unbroken. Interesting, he thought. Very interesting.
He let his lips curl into a faint, sarcastic smirk. "Your entire day's wage probably couldn't buy this shirt," he said, voice low but sharp, enough for nearby patrons to catch the sting.
Selina's heart jumped, but her voice didn't falter. "Maybe… but it's not the shirt I care about, it's respect. Something you could use a little more of."
Gasps rippled among the customers. Even Gabriel raised his eyebrows in surprise. He had expected Selina to crumble under Andre's words. Yet here she was, standing her ground, defiant.
The manager rushed over, panic written all over his face. "Selina! I… I'm so sorry. Please, it won't happen again—I… I have no choice."
"What do you mean, no choice? I didn't ruin anyone's day intentionally!" Selina snapped, her voice cracking slightly under the tension. "You can't just fire me over this. This isn't even my fault!"
The manager's face paled. "Do you know who you're talking to? Andre Vale doesn't tolerate mistakes!" he hissed, glancing nervously at Andre, who simply stared with that unreadable expression.
Selina's hands clenched the tray, knuckles whitening. "And yet I'm standing, aren't I? You may be rich, but that doesn't mean you can bully someone for doing their job!"
Andre's dark eyes flickered with something—amusement, surprise, irritation. He hadn't expected her to speak back, and that tiny defiance unsettled him in a way he didn't yet understand.
Gabriel chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Wow… she's tiny but feisty. I didn't think anyone would ever talk to him like that."
Andre's jaw tightened again. She's naive… reckless… and dangerously bold. And yet, despite the irritation boiling inside him, a strange curiosity began to bloom.
The manager, sweating, stepped closer. "Selina, I have to fire you. Please understand, it's… it's too risky. I can't…" His voice trailed off as he fumbled for authority.
"I won't accept this!" Selina's voice rose, trembling but firm. "I'll take responsibility for the spill, but firing me on the spot? That's ridiculous!"
Andre's gaze sharpened. He was about to intervene, to put an end to the scene, but then he paused. This tiny woman… she's not afraid of me. That thought alone made his chest tighten.
Gabriel nudged him slightly. "Should we…?"
"No," Andre said quietly, almost to himself. "I want to see how far she'll go."
Selina's chest heaved as she faced the manager and Andre at once. Pride and humiliation warred inside her. Her cheeks burned from the embarrassment, yet a thrill stirred in her chest. This was a battle she hadn't expected to fight, but she wasn't backing down.
Finally, the manager's hands shook as he gestured toward the door. "Please… just leave. I can't—"
Selina grabbed her bag, still avoiding Andre's piercing gaze, yet she felt it lingering on her, weighing her down in a way that made her pulse quicken. She swallowed hard. "I'll be leaving," she muttered, voice quieter now, but defiant. "But remember… standing up doesn't make me wrong."
Andre's lips pressed into a thin line. Dangerous, yes. Intriguing, absolutely. And he knew one thing: he wouldn't forget her. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.
Outside, Selina breathed in the crisp morning air, her hair smelling faintly of coffee and nerves. The humiliation still stung, but a spark of pride remained. Somehow, despite everything, she had survived the storm of his gaze. And somehow, she felt… alive.
Neither of them knew it yet, but this encounter, the coffee, the defiance, the fire in her eyes was only the beginning.
.....
Earlier that morning…
Selina's phone had buzzed relentlessly before sunrise. "Selina! Please, I need you to cover my shift! It's urgent!" Her friend's desperate voice was sharp in her groggy mind.
Half-asleep, Selina had thrown on clothes, barely brushed her hair, and stumbled out the door. A messy bun, wrinkled blouse, sneakers mismatched—perfection was impossible. She didn't have time to think.
She had barely had time for a sip of lukewarm coffee before arriving. Her nerves had already started buzzing, and now she was standing in front of one of the most intimidating men she had ever seen.
Meanwhile, Andre Vale had been scrolling idly on his phone. A call from Gabriel, his childhood friend, lured him out.
"There's this café down the street. A hidden gem. You'll love it."
Andre had shrugged. "I don't do casual coffee runs."
Gabriel grinned. "It's a detour. Trust me, you'll thank me."
Andre hadn't expected anything remarkable. Until Selina arrived.
.....
Back in the café, the scent of coffee and pastries mingled with the faint citrus of cleaning supplies. Every step Selina took to clean the mess was deliberate, her palms sweating, her jaw set. Andre's gaze didn't waver. Every detail of her—nervous movements, trembling hands, flushed cheeks was etched into his mind.
Gabriel whispered near Andre's ear. "She's holding her own… somehow."
Andre didn't answer. He wanted to see how far she could go—how this tiny, flustered woman would handle humiliation, fear, and his icy stare.
"Let me help," Gabriel offered, but Andre waved him off subtly. No. He wanted to see her strength or her breaking point.
Selina's chest tightened. "I'll make it right," she said, trembling but resolute. "I may not fix the jacket, but I won't ruin anyone else's day."
Andre's lips quirked slightly, half-amused, half-annoyed. "You think you can fix this?"
"Not the jacket," she admitted softly. "But… I can try."
The café murmurs rose again, a symphony of curiosity and admiration. Andre's piercing eyes flickered… intrigued.