The glass doors of ValeTech slid open with a hiss, and Nyra stepped inside, a ghost of confidence trailing her every move. Sneakers squeaked faintly on the polished floors a sound alien to the quiet, controlled world of tech elites. She kept her hoodie low, headphones tucked into her bag, letting her eyes do the talking. She was smart, she was ready, and she knew better than to let anyone guess her other life.
Her laptop hummed softly against her chest, loaded with half-finished code and encrypted files. A scholarship, a coveted internship the kind of opportunity that could make her disappear from the streets for good, One positive contribution from the affluent right !?.She told herself: this was temporary. The streets didn't own her. No one did.
Then he appeared.
Adrian Vale.
Tall. Impeccably dressed. Dark eyes that scanned the room like they could read the thoughts of everyone present. He stopped just behind her workstation, watching her fingers dance across the keys with a predatory patience.
"You're Nyra, right?" His voice was calm, deliberate a quiet force that made her chest tighten just a fraction.
"Yes," she said, coolly. Not looking up. Too many people assumed. Too many people underestimated. She wasn't one of them.
"I've reviewed your portfolio," he continued, voice like ice wrapped in silk. "Your code is… impressive. You might be the best student I've ever had in my program."
Nyra finally lifted her gaze. His eyes held an intensity that made her stomach clench. Too much power. Too much control. Too much… curiosity.
"Thank you," she said carefully. "I just… see patterns differently. And I fix them."
He took a slow step closer. "Patterns are easy. People… not so much. But you… you seem to see both."
A shiver ran up her spine, but it wasn't fear. Not yet. It was awareness a warning that this man was dangerous in a way she couldn't yet name.
"I focus on results," she said, returning her attention to the screen. "Patterns or people, doesn't matter.""Focus on results," She possessed that specific brand of genius-level pride the kind that said fuck being humble and actually meant it. She didn't need to soften her edges for the sake of others' comfort.
He didn't move. He watched. Observed. Calculated.Like some CIA agent in American movies. And in that quiet, intense scrutiny, Nyra felt the pull she always resisted being seen, truly seen, by someone who mattered.
Finally, Adrian straightened. "I'll be in my office. Try not to break anything while I watch."
Nyra's lips pressed into a thin line. Watch me all you want, she thought. But you don't know the half of it.
She put her headphones back in, letting Lana Del Rey hum low and melancholic through her ears, grounding her, reminding her that she was still untouchable.
But Adrian Vale had noticed. And that would be her first real problem.