Kirah walked with grace, even when her arms were full of files. Her stilettos made sharp, confident clicks against the marble floor as she headed toward Dominic's office to drop off a personnel integrity reports. She had no intention of seeing him—just drop the files, acknowledge politely if necessary, and leave.
But as she approached the hallway leading to his office, voices halted her steps.
His door was slightly open. His voice was low, tense.
"I said I'm not marrying anyone to satisfy your portfolio or your pride."
And then came a colder, sharper female voice that cut through Kirah like glass.
"Well, I hope you're not planning to bring some hungry woman from the pit to enjoy where she did not sow," his mother snapped. "I didn't raise you to be foolish, Dominic. You already know I have a choice for you. A woman of pedigree. I can set up a meeting, and that will be the end of all this nonsense."
Kirah's fingers tightened around the folder she was holding.
She didn't need to hear more. Her heart already stung.
Turning on her heel, she quietly made her way back to her office, her face composed but her thoughts spiraling. Hungry woman from the pit? Was that what women like her were to people like Dominic's mother? Disposables? Opportunists?
She swallowed her pride and sat at her desk, burying herself in work. She wasn't here for approval. She was here to earn. And no matter how tempting Dominic's attention could be, it wasn't worth the humiliation that would come with it.
---
Later in the day, Kirah noticed something else. Her colleagues—especially the ones who usually kept their distance—were suddenly trying to talk to her. Compliments on her outfit, small jokes in the breakroom, even offers to help carry some of her files.
So unusual.
Was it the new office gossip? Did they somehow know she was connected to Dominic beyond work matters? Or maybe it was the delivery box on her desk from yesterday. Luxury heels she hadn't ordered but hadn't returned either. A ghost of a gift with no name .
Her guard went up even higher.
---
Lunch Hour**
Dominic hadn't seen Kirah all day. Not in the halls, not at the elevator, and not even outside her office. He knew she was avoiding him, and that only fueled the fire he'd been trying to tame.
Her silence felt louder than usual.
So he did something he hadn't done for any woman—ever.
He ordered a quiet meal from the executive dining lounge and walked into her office without warning, holding two elegant trays.
Kirah looked up from her screen, startled.
"I figured you hadn't had lunch," Dominic said, his voice softer than she'd expected. "Neither have I."
He placed one tray in front of her, his presence towering yet calm. The smell of grilled salmon, rice pilaf, and lightly sautéed vegetables filled the room.
Kirah blinked. "Thank you, but that wasn't necessary. I was fine."
"Still," he said simply, sitting across from her like he belonged there, "I wanted to."
She didn't know what annoyed her more—his quiet persistence or her own traitorous heart skipping a beat. She hated this. This game of power and charm. This kindness after overhearing what his mother thought about women like her.
But she ate the food.
Silently.
Suspiciously.
***
When the evening has come,
Kirah packed her bag and made her way to the building's front entrance. She was tired, her mind heavier than her steps. Today had been a mental roller coaster. She just wanted her regular taxi, a warm bath, and some sleep.
But parked right outside was a sleek black Mercedes-Maybach, engine humming, windows tinted.
She froze.
A chauffeur in uniform stepped forward. "Miss Kirah Evans?"
Kirah narrowed her eyes. "Yes?"
"I'm here to take you home. Everything has been arranged. I have your address."
"I didn't order a car," she said firmly.
"It was arranged for you," the man insisted gently. "You're the right person. Miss Evans, correct?"
She took a step back, her brows furrowed. "Tell whoever arranged it that I'm not entering. That's not how I roll."
The man looked confused but didn't argue.
She turned around, flagged down a cab herself, and got in.
---
Back at her apartment, Kirah peeled off her clothes, ran a hot shower, and let the steam soften her anger. She didn't need this. Not the drama, not the guessing games, not the charity. If Dominic was trying to buy her trust, he was playing with the wrong woman.
She slipped into her nightwear and called Naya.
"Babeeee!" Naya answered, clearly waiting for tea.
"You won't believe what happened," Kirah began.
Naya let out a loud gasp when she heard about the luxury car. "You better not have entered! You're not that cheap, and you don't know what kinda nonsense they're trying to pull!"
"I didn't," Kirah assured her. "But it's getting ridiculous now. Yesterday heels. Today a car? Who's playing with my intelligence?"
"Don't lie to me. You still think it's not Dominic?"
Kirah sighed, "I don't know. I don't know anything anymore."
"Well," Naya huffed, "if it is him, he better get serious. He's not allowed to confuse my best friend. And if he messes up, I'll sue him for emotional damages on your behalf."
They both laughed, easing some of the tension.
Nightfall***
As Kirah curled into bed, her phone lit up.
Dominic: "I hope today didn't overwhelm you. I'll be here if you need anything . Sleep well."
....