Adrian Hale didn't believe in coincidences.
At thirty-four, he'd built his life and reputation around precision, discipline, and instinct. Cold to most, calculated to many, and guarded always. Adrian didn't let people in easily. He never had to.
His world moved in straight lines: routines, contracts, deadlines. As CEO of Marigold Industries, his life was a blur of meetings, strategic moves, and people trying to get close for all the wrong reasons. Yet for all the noise, his personal life was quiet borderline silent. And he liked it that way.
Tall, dark-haired, and sharp-featured, Adrian had the kind of presence that didn't require words. His gray eyes held a weight that could unnerve even the most confident. Some said he was born intimidating. Others said he chose to be.
Either way, it worked for him.
Until her.
That morning, he'd returned home a little earlier than usual, something about the sky felt different. The crisp air. The stillness. And then he saw her.
She stepped out of her apartment across from his, a soft frown on her face, eyes heavy with something unsaid. Her walk was quiet, a little rushed. But it was the moment she stopped right at the edge of the stairwell, that stayed with him.
She turned slightly, like she sensed him. Like the air shifted.
Her gaze didn't reach him, but he saw the way she paused, her lashes fluttering. And he caught it then, that quiet ache in her expression. The kind you don't fake.
She disappeared down the stairs before he could blink.
But she stayed in his head the whole day.
Adrian didn't entertain distractions. Yet he found himself watching the elevator doors longer than usual, his mind replaying the moment like it meant something.
That was hours ago.
Now, in the fading light of early evening, Adrian stood in the parking lot of his building, loosening his tie, keys in hand, when he heard raised voices.
He wasn't trying to listen. But something in a voice cut through the air like glass.
And then: a sharp sound. Flesh on flesh.
He turned.
They were standing near the stairwell, half in shadow. The same woman from this morning. And a man. Her boyfriend, maybe. He was taller than her by a head, loud, angry.
She stood frozen, one hand to her cheek, blinking fast like she didn't want the tears to win.
The man took another step toward her, voice rising again, and Adrian moved before he thought. He was beside them in seconds.
"Back off."
The man spun. "Who the hell are you?"
Adrian didn't answer. He looked at her instead. She wasn't crying. But her lips trembled slightly. Her arms crossed over herself like a shield.
"I said back off," Adrian repeated, voice low. Controlled.
"You must be out of your mind if you think you can just—"
The man stepped forward, all heat and noise. Adrian didn't flinch.
That's when it snapped. The man lunged, and Adrian dodged, quick and smooth, grabbing his arm and shoving him back—hard enough that he stumbled into the car.
The woman gasped.
"Stop!" she yelled, stepping between them. "Just—stop. Please."
She turned to Adrian, her voice a notch softer. "I don't need your help. This isn't your business."
He looked at her, stunned for a second. There was something behind those words, something that didn't match her eyes.
The man_Liam, Adrian caught the name—grabbed her wrist roughly and pulled her toward the building. She didn't resist.
But she looked back.
Just once.
And Adrian saw it again.
That same look from the morning.
Not just tired. Not just sad.
Lonely.
Not the kind that comes from being alone.
The kind that sticks even when someone's holding your hand.
Adrian stayed still, keys clenched in his fist, staring at the stairwell door long after it closed.
Something about her didn't make sense.
But one thing was clear:
He wouldn't forget her eyes anytime soon.