Page 8

It was a long day, and I was exhausted from the series of serious meetings that I had to attend. A cold shower and a nice meal would suffice at this point—perhaps a good massage, too. My mind was busier than a regular day in Los Angeles. It was a tangled web of thoughts, redundant and important.

I could feel my head throbbing as I drove back home in the comfort of my sleek black Lamborghini. The car’s cabin was filled with the gentle hum of the engine and the fresh scent of premium leather and polished wood. The luxurious fragrance enveloped me in refinement and sophistication as soft classical music played in the background.

I rounded a corner, and my eyes squinted ever so slightly. My jaw clenched at the queue of cars stretching out before me like an endless river of steel and glass glinting in the sunlight. A pang of irritation swelled up within me, and my fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

“You gotta be kidding me,” I muttered, furrowing my brows as I joined the queue and brought the car to a stop.

With soft, jagged breaths, I lowered my head, fingers pinching the bridge of my nose in an attempt to remain composed. The idea that I was stuck in traffic despite my exhaustion infuriated me. I could feel the subtle trembling of my body, like the beast within me was snarling, threatening to come out.

All I wanted was some peace and quiet, but the busy streets of LA offered everything but that. The cacophony of blaring horns, the screeching of tires, and the revving of cars assaulted my ears, worsening my headache.

To my left, a group of pedestrians chatted loudly as they crossed the street, while to my right, a construction crew drilled into the pavement. A street artist leaned against a wall, an acoustic guitar in his arms as he strung the strings with expert precision.

A small crowd gathered around him, smiling and filming his performance—a soulful rendition of James Blunt's “You're Beautiful.” His voice was a little off-key; however, it still added a charming, laid-back quality to the song.

As he performed, strumming the chords of his guitar, people tossed coins into his guitar case as they went about their regular lives. Others, however, were mesmerized by his music, momentarily forgetting about the hustle and bustle of the city.

Whether I admitted it to myself or not, the man’s music was a welcome distraction. Its soothing melody eased a fraction of my stress.

“…you’re beautiful, it’s true. I saw your face in a crowded place, and I don’t know what to do…” he sang, his fingers performing magic on the guitar strings.

And that was when it happened. I saw her in a crowded place, just like it said in the lyrics. What an impeccable coincidence!

The music gradually faded into the background as I shifted my gaze to Clarice Evelyn. I tried to look away, but I couldn’t. Something about this woman had me hooked, unable to tear my gaze off her.

I felt a flutter in my chest, and a reflexive grin played on my lips, a sense of calm washing over me. Now, this was a distraction worth my time, and I couldn’t care less when the heavy traffic decided to ease.

Clarice stood outside a coffee shop, dressed up in a pair of tight blue jeans and a crisp white top. While cradling her coffee in a thermos, she seemed engrossed in a conversation with a female friend in a patterned dress. The duo chatted with smiley faces, and Clarice’s doe eyes sparkled like diamonds. Her skin shimmered in the sunlight, and her hazelnut-brown hair cascaded down her back.

She looked different—casual but sexy—without the wire-rimmed glasses she’d had on during our last session. Her posture was confident and graceful, her smile radiant and infectious.

Time seemed to pause as I stared at this beautiful woman, whose aura was so magnetic that it entranced me.

My eyes narrowed as I watched her, observing the way she laughed, the way the sun kissed her face, and the way the gentle breeze danced through her hair. Loose strands rustled in the wind, framing her face with soft curls.

Her jeans hugged her skin, accentuating her curves that seemed to draw attention. The sound of her playful laugh filled the air, and I couldn’t help but wonder what her friend had said to prompt such joy and excitement.

Watching that unique smile play on her face melted my heart, and my expression softened slightly. She lifted the thermos to her enticing, full lips and took another sip, her tongue sticking out to lick the remnants smeared over her mouth.

I stroked my jaw, grinning at the illicit picture my dirty mind had painted—that tongue of hers licking my own lips.

Her smile faltered almost indistinctly, and her brows furrowed, forming faint creases between them. Her eyes, now sharp and alert, darted across the surroundings with a suspicious look etched on her face. It was almost like she could feel my gaze, like she was perceptive enough to sense that someone was watching her.

For a fleeting moment, she lowered her head and rubbed the back of her neck, her eyes darting in the direction of my car. Seconds later, she straightened and met her friend’s gaze again.

Clarice wasn’t just smart; she was also observant. She was certain that someone’s eyes lingered on her. That knowing smile on her face betrayed her composure. She knew. I was sure of that.

But did she know it was me? Had she seen me in the car?

It didn’t matter, anyway; she had me intrigued already—drawn to her like a fucking moth to a flame. But why? What was it about her that had me enchanted?

Clarice exuded confidence and warmth, and despite the amazing smile that made her approachable, she seemed unbothered and unafraid of anything or anyone. Impressive.

No woman had caught my attention the way that she did. And I had yet to understand why, especially because I was starting to feel a flicker of admiration for her.

She stole a quick glance in my direction and sipped her coffee, her posture relaxed and composed. Even out here, she still seemed totally in control, and I couldn’t help but be intrigued by this innocent yet fiery young woman.

A soft scoff escaped my lips as I leaned back in my seat. My gaze never left her form, which was enveloped in the sun’s warm glow.