Chapter 2 - “I’M TIRED OF PRETENDING I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU KEEP LOOKING AT ME”
“Because I’m tired,” Elena said.
Adrian’s gaze hardened.
“Of what?”
For four years, Elena had translated wars before they became wars.
She had sat between Russians and Italians while men smiled over threats. She had converted Serbian insults into diplomatic English, turned coded Arabic warnings into neutral commercial language, and once stopped Theo Grant from shooting a French freight broker by explaining that the man had insulted a contract clause, not Adrian’s mother.
Words were usually safer when they belonged to other people.
Her own words were more dangerous.
Elena swallowed.
“Of pretending I don’t know why you keep looking at me.”
Adrian became completely motionless.
Outside the windows, snow drifted between skyscrapers.
Inside the private dining room, silence became almost physical.
“Elena.”
“No.”
She closed her laptop.
“If you asked the question, you can hear the answer.”
His jaw tightened.
“I shouldn’t have asked.”
“You already said that.”
“I mean it.”
“Good.”
She stood.
This time Adrian stepped backward.
The small movement mattered.
He could have blocked her.
A man like Adrian Vale could block almost anything.
Doors.
Accounts.
Roads.
People.
Instead, he gave her room.
Elena collected her coat from the back of the chair.
Adrian asked quietly, “Is it Daniel?”
She looked at him.
“That is still not your business.”
“I know.”
The answer surprised her.
He shoved both hands into his pockets as though physically restraining himself from doing something foolish.
“I also know I’m jealous.”
Elena forgot how to breathe.
Adrian Vale had confessed to crimes more easily than emotions.
At least crimes had operational vocabulary.
Jealousy did not.
“You’re my employer,” she said.
“I know.”
“You control where I work, who has access to me, which meetings I attend, what security follows me when contracts turn ugly.”
“I know.”
“So this conversation isn’t equal.”
Adrian’s expression changed.
Not anger.
Something closer to shame.
“You think I would use that against you?”
“I think you’re used to people adjusting their choices because you entered the room.”
He stared.
That struck exactly where she intended.
Elena continued.
“I don’t know whether I want Daniel.”
Another breath.
“I don’t know whether I want anybody.”
Her voice softened.
“But I know I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering whether every feeling I have around you belongs to me or to the fact that you can rearrange my entire world with one phone call.”
Adrian turned away.
For several seconds, he looked through the glass toward the city.
When he spoke again, his voice was lower.
“Then I won’t.”
“What?”
“Rearrange anything.”
Elena almost laughed.
“That is not a promise men like you know how to keep.”
He looked back.
“Then watch me learn.”
There it was.
Not seduction.
Not command.
A challenge directed at himself.
Elena put on her coat.
“I have dinner with Daniel on Friday.”
Adrian’s face tightened despite everything.
She waited.
He said nothing.
“Adrian.”
“What?”
“This is the part where you prove it.”
His mouth became a line.
Finally:
“I hope the food is terrible.”
Elena laughed despite herself.
“That was almost mature.”
“It was the best I had.”
She walked toward the door.
“Elena.”
She stopped.
He did not approach.
“I am sorry for asking that question in front of everyone.”
She looked over shoulder.
“Thank you.”
“And for making you think you needed a reckless answer to make me understand something.”
Her chest tightened.
That apology was better.
She opened the door.
Mason, Theo, and Kara stood six feet away pretending not to have been waiting.
Mason suddenly became fascinated by a painting.
Theo examined his phone.
Kara looked directly at Elena.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes.”
Kara glanced past her toward Adrian.
“Everything alive?”
“For now.”
Mason coughed.
Adrian’s voice came from inside.
“Cole.”
Mason froze.
“Yes?”
“Leave.”
“Already leaving.”
They scattered.
Elena drove herself home.
She lived in a quiet apartment in Lincoln Park filled with books in twelve languages, plants she routinely forgot to water, and a tiny espresso machine that cost more than her sofa.
At 11:14 p.m., Daniel Reed texted.
Still good for Friday?
She stared.
Daniel was safe.
Adrian was not.
That should have made the answer easy.
It didn’t.
She typed:
Yes. 7 works.
His reply came with a restaurant address and a smiling dog emoji.
Normal.
She wanted normal.
At least she thought she did.
The next morning, Adrian behaved as though the conversation had never happened.
Almost.
When Elena arrived at Vale Consolidated’s private offices above the river, her usual security escort was missing.
Kara met her near elevator.
“Before you panic, Adrian changed your assignment.”
Elena stopped.
“What?”
“Not fired.”
“Then?”
“Administrative reporting now goes through me.”
Elena stared.
Kara continued.
“Your compensation remains the same. Your translation assignments are chosen by scheduling team, not Adrian personally. You can decline any private meeting without explanation.”
Elena’s heartbeat changed.
“He did that last night?”
“At two-thirty in morning.”
“Of course he did.”
“He also asked external employment counsel whether your contract creates any pressure related to personal relationship.”
Elena almost smiled.
“What did they say?”
“That he is a human resources nightmare.”
“Accurate.”
Kara handed her a folder.
“Sign only if you want. It formalizes independent reporting.”
Elena read every page.
Adrian had removed himself from authority over her employment.
Not entirely from the organization.
Impossible.
But enough that rejecting him personally could not cost her job directly.
She signed.
Kara watched.
“You know he’s miserable.”
“That is not my responsibility.”
Kara smiled.
“I like you.”
The day continued.
Translation.
Contracts.
A tense call with Romanian shipping agents.
At 5:00, Daniel appeared on the floor.
Not for Elena.
He was there to update endpoint security after recent intrusion alerts.
He wore jeans, a dark sweater, and glasses he removed whenever concentrating.
Safe.
Normal.
Kind.
He smiled when he saw Elena.
“Friday.”
“Friday.”
Across the open office, Adrian walked out of conference room.
His eyes went first to Daniel.
Then Elena.
The entire floor seemed to notice.
Adrian stopped.
Daniel gave a professional nod.
“Mr. Vale.”
“Reed.”
Silence.
Elena waited.
Adrian looked at her.
“Ms. Mercer.”
“Mr. Vale.”
His mouth twitched.
Then he walked away.
No threat.
No reassignment.
No sudden audit of Daniel’s life.
Nothing.
Elena watched him disappear behind glass doors.
Daniel leaned closer.
“Was that weird?”
“Yes.”
“Did I do something?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Then his expression changed.
“Actually, I do need to ask you something.”
“What?”
He glanced toward security cameras.
“Not here.”
Elena’s instincts sharpened.
Daniel was no longer smiling.
“What happened?”
He lowered his voice.
“Someone copied your translation archive last night.”
Her skin went cold.
“What?”
“Not one file.”
He looked toward Adrian’s closed office.
“Everything.”
Four years of negotiations.
Names.
Threats.
Private recordings.
International contracts.
Languages most employees could not understand.
Elena whispered:
“Who?”
Daniel’s face hardened.
“That’s the problem.”
“What?”
“The access came from inside Vale security.”
And suddenly the embarrassing dinner conversation felt very far away.
May you like
Because somewhere inside Adrian’s organization, someone had stolen the one thing more dangerous than Elena Mercer’s feelings.
Her memory.
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