The next morning, Clara braced herself as she entered StarVision headquarters. After last night's mistake at the gala, she half expected to find her desk cleared and a termination email waiting. Instead, she was told to report directly to Adrian's rehearsal studio.
Her stomach tightened. Facing him again felt like walking into a storm she couldn't avoid.
The studio was massive, its mirrored walls reflecting Adrian as he rehearsed with his band. His voice filled the room, rich and commanding, every note carrying the same intensity she'd seen on stage. But up close, Clara noticed something different. Sweat rolled down his temple, his breaths came heavier, and behind the perfection was a man pushing himself harder than anyone demanded.
"Water," he snapped without looking at her.
Clara quickly grabbed a bottle and handed it to him. He uncapped it, drank, then finally looked at her. "You're still here."
"Should I not be?" she asked, meeting his gaze steadily.
Adrian smirked, wiping his brow with a towel. "Most assistants would've quit after last night. Or cried."
"Maybe I'm not like most assistants," Clara said, her voice calm but edged.
His smirk faded into something unreadable. For a moment, he just studied her, as if she was more complicated than he wanted to admit. Then he tossed the towel aside. "Sit."
Clara hesitated. "Excuse me?"
"Sit," he repeated, pointing to the chair near the piano. "You're not here to just fetch water. You're here to observe. To know me. That way, you won't make another… mistake."
His words were sharp, but his tone wasn't as harsh as yesterday. Clara sat, folding her hands in her lap. She watched as he returned to the piano, pressing a few keys before singing softly under his breath.
And that's when she heard it the unpolished version of Adrian Cole. Without the band, without the roaring crowd, his voice was raw, almost vulnerable. He wasn't performing for anyone. He was just… singing.
Clara found herself leaning forward, mesmerized.
When he finished, Adrian noticed her expression. "What?"
She blinked. "Nothing. It's just… you sound different when you're not on stage. Softer. Like…" She hesitated. "…like you actually mean it."
For once, Adrian didn't have a quick comeback. His jaw flexed, and he looked away. "Don't read too much into it."
"I wasn't," Clara said gently. "I just think maybe that's the version of you people should hear more often."
The silence stretched. Adrian's fingers lingered on the keys, his eyes unfocused. For a brief second, Clara wondered if she'd crossed a line. But then, to her surprise, he laughed—not his mocking laugh, but something lighter, almost genuine.
"You really don't know when to keep quiet, do you?" he said, shaking his head.
Clara smiled faintly. "Not when the truth is obvious."
Their eyes met, and the air between them shifted. It wasn't the charged tension of their arguments. It was something quieter, something that made Clara's chest tighten unexpectedly. She quickly looked down at her notepad, scribbling a few meaningless lines just to break the moment.
Adrian stood, stretching his arms. "You're stubborn, you know that?"
"So I've been told," Clara said without looking up.
He walked past her, pausing briefly at her chair. When she glanced up, he was smirking again, but this time his eyes carried a glint of something warmer.
"Careful, Clara," he said softly. "If you keep talking to me like that, I might start thinking you're more than just an assistant."
Before she could respond, he walked out of the studio, leaving her heart beating faster than she wanted to admit.
Clara sat there, staring at the empty doorway.
She had come here to do a job. But little by little, she was beginning to see the man behind the fame the man Adrian Cole worked so hard to hide.
And that was dangerous.