The next few days passed like whispers — quiet, soft, and unspoken.
Adrian tried to convince himself that nothing had changed since that rainy night, but deep down, he knew something had. Every time Ivy walked into his office, her presence disturbed the silence he'd grown addicted to.
It wasn't the way she looked — though she was beautiful in a calm, effortless way. It was the way she felt. She had this strange ability to make the air feel lighter, even in his heaviest moments.
And that was exactly what scared him.
Because Adrian had never been good with light.
---
That Monday morning, Ivy walked into the office early, humming softly. The scent of jasmine followed her as she entered his office carrying files.
"Good morning, Mr. Adrian," she greeted.
He looked up briefly from his laptop. "You're early."
"I like being early," she replied with a faint smile. "The world is quieter before the rush begins."
He raised a brow, closing the laptop slowly. "You like quiet?"
She nodded. "It helps me think."
He almost smiled — almost. "That's… rare."
"I could say the same about you," she said gently, a teasing glint in her eyes. "You don't strike me as someone who likes quiet. You strike me as someone who hides behind it."
Her words hit deeper than she probably intended. Adrian froze for a moment, staring at her. No one had ever said something like that to him. Not even his closest business partners dared to look through his armor.
He wanted to scold her, maybe remind her of her position — but he didn't. Instead, he found himself saying quietly,
"Be careful, Ivy. Curiosity is a dangerous thing."
Her smile didn't fade. "So is loneliness."
And with that, she left, her perfume lingering in the air — light, soft, and far too comforting.
---
Later that afternoon, a board meeting dragged on longer than expected. Adrian sat at the head of the table, eyes fixed on the presentation, but his mind wasn't there. He could feel Ivy's presence at the far end of the room, flipping through documents, jotting notes.
Her focus reminded him of his mother — calm, composed, yet full of quiet fire.
And that memory hurt.
He tried to shake it off, but the ache was stronger than usual today. Maybe because that date — his mother's death anniversary — was drawing close.
When the meeting ended, he stood up abruptly and left the room. Ivy noticed the tension in his face, the distant look in his eyes, and followed quietly.
She caught up with him at the elevator.
"Sir? Are you alright?"
He turned, surprised to see her there. "I'm fine."
"You don't look fine," she said softly. "You look… tired. Or maybe sad."
The elevator doors opened, and he stepped inside. "Don't analyze me, Ivy."
She didn't move. "I'm not analyzing, sir. I'm just… concerned."
The sincerity in her voice made something inside him twist. For a second, he wanted to tell her everything — about his past, his parents, the nightmares that still woke him at night. But he didn't. He couldn't.
Instead, he said quietly, "Go home, Ivy. You've worked enough for today."
She looked like she wanted to say more, but the elevator doors closed between them before she could.
---
That night, the rain returned — soft and steady, like a memory that refused to fade.
Adrian stood on his balcony, staring at the city lights, a glass of whiskey in hand. He wasn't thinking about work. He wasn't even thinking about money. He was thinking about her.
Her voice. Her eyes. That unshakable kindness that made him both restless and calm at the same time.
He hadn't felt this kind of confusion since he was a teenager — since the time when love was still an innocent word and not a wound.
He hated that she made him feel human again.
His phone buzzed. It was a message from Ivy.
> "Mr. Adrian, I noticed you didn't take your medication. The doctor sent a refill to the office. Please don't forget to rest. Good night, sir."
He stared at the screen, shocked that she knew. Only his assistant and his doctor were aware of his sleeping condition.
How did she find out?
For the first time in a long while, he smiled — a small, reluctant curve of his lips.
He typed back:
> "Good night, Ivy. You shouldn't worry about me."
A moment later, her reply came.
> "Some people are worth worrying about, sir."
He exhaled slowly, the warmth in his chest spreading before he could stop it.
What was she doing to him?
---
The next day, Ivy came to work as usual, unaware of how much her message had replayed in Adrian's head the entire night.
He watched her from his office, fingers drumming lightly against his desk. He'd made a decision.
"Miss Ivy," he said through the intercom. "Come in."
She entered, notebook in hand. "Yes, sir?"
He gestured for her to sit. "I'm traveling to London next week for a conference. I need someone I can trust to accompany me. The work is demanding, and the meetings are crucial."
Her eyes widened slightly. "Me?"
"Yes, you," he said simply. "You've proven capable. And…"
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"You have a calm presence that I find… useful."
Her cheeks flushed faintly, though she tried to hide it. "I'll be honored, sir."
He nodded once. "Good. Prepare your passport and travel documents. We leave in three days."
She stood up to leave, but his voice stopped her again.
"Ivy."
She turned, eyes meeting his.
"Thank you," he said quietly, his gaze softening. "For caring."
Her smile — gentle, genuine, and warm — reached straight into the coldest part of him. "You're welcome, Adrian."
It was the first time she'd said his name without sir.
And he didn't correct her.
---
That night, as he packed documents in his study, his brother called. The moment he heard his voice, Adrian's expression hardened.
"Adrian," his brother said, voice calm but sharp, "I heard you're taking someone new to London. A secretary?"
"Yes," Adrian replied shortly.
"You should be careful," his brother warned. "You know what happened the last time you trusted someone too easily."
Adrian's jaw tightened. "I know what happened, Nathan. And I also know I won't let it happen again."
His brother sighed. "You sound too sure for someone who's falling again."
The call ended before Adrian could respond.
He stood there, the city lights reflecting in his cold blue eyes.
He hated that his brother was right.
Because even if he didn't want to admit it…
He was falling.
Falling for the one woman who could either heal his heart — or break it beyond repair.