Days passed.
Quietly.
Almost the same.
Nyra worked.
Morning at the café.
Evening at the library.
Night filled with silence… or memories she tried to ignore.
And somewhere in between—
He was always there.
Not beside her.
Not in front of her.
But close enough.
Watching.
Making sure nothing happened.
Adrian Voss had turned into something dangerous—
A presence she couldn’t see…
But one that never left.
—
They crossed paths often.
Too often to be coincidence.
At the café.
At the library.
Even on the street.
And every time—
They argued.
Like always.
Sharp words.
Short tempers.
Unfinished tension.
Like two storms refusing to settle.
—
“Do you follow everyone like this?” Nyra snapped one afternoon when she saw him outside the library again.
Adrian looked at her calmly. “Only when necessary.”
“And I’m necessary?”
“You’re not safe.”
Her jaw tightened. “I was safe before you started appearing everywhere.”
“That’s not true.”
“And you know that how?” she challenged.
Adrian didn’t answer.
Because he did know.
And that was the problem.
Nyra shook her head. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re stubborn.”
“Good,” she muttered, walking away. “Stay away.”
He didn’t.
He never did.
—
That evening, the sky was painted in soft orange as Nyra walked toward the café for her shift.
Her steps were slow.
Tired.
But steady.
She reached the road and paused, waiting for the traffic to slow before crossing.
That’s when she noticed him.
An old man.
Walking from the opposite side.
Talking on his phone.
Completely unaware.
A loud horn blared.
A lorry sped toward him.
Fast.
Too fast.
“Sir!” Nyra shouted.
But he didn’t react.
Still walking.
Still talking.
Time slowed.
The sound of the horn grew louder.
Closer.
Closer—
Nyra didn’t think.
She ran.
Fast.
Straight toward him.
“Move!”
She grabbed his arm and pulled him hard, dragging him out of the way just as the lorry rushed past.
Wind hit them both.
Heavy.
Sharp.
Too close.
—
They stumbled to the side of the road.
The old man’s phone slipped from his hand.
Silence followed.
Then—
“Are you okay?” Nyra asked quickly, her breath uneven.
The man blinked, still processing what just happened.
“I—yes… I think so…”
“You weren’t even looking!” she said, her voice slightly shaky. “You could’ve been hurt—”
He looked at her properly now.
And paused.
Something about her face…
Familiar.
“You saved me,” he said softly.
Nyra shook her head. “Just… be careful next time.”
She bent down, picking up his phone and handing it to him.
“Here.”
“Thank you,” he said, still looking at her. “What’s your name?”
“Nyra.”
“Nyra…” he repeated slowly. “I’m Victor.”
She nodded politely.
But Victor didn’t look away.
Instead, he frowned slightly.
“Have we… met before?”
Nyra hesitated.
“I don’t think so.”
Victor tilted his head, thinking.
Then he said—
“I used to visit a friend years ago… I once came with my son… there was a little girl—”
Nyra froze.
Something clicked.
A faint memory.
A house.
Voices.
A boy standing quietly beside a man.
Her eyes widened slightly.
“…you came to our house,” she said slowly.
Victor’s expression softened. “Yes.”
“You… brought your son…”
“And you were much smaller,” he added with a gentle smile.
Nyra looked down slightly.
“…I remember a little.”
A pause settled between them.
Then Victor asked softly, “How are your parents?”
The question hit harder than expected.
Nyra’s fingers tightened slightly around her bag.
“My mother… passed away,” she said quietly.
Victor’s expression changed instantly. “I’m sorry.”
“And my parents…” she paused, her fingers curling slightly as if holding onto something invisible, her voice dropping to almost a whisper, “…they’re gone.”
For a moment, it felt like there was more she wanted to say—something heavier, darker—but she swallowed it, letting the silence speak instead.
Victor nodded slowly.
Understanding more than she said.
“And you?” he asked. “What are you doing now?”
“I work,” she replied simply. “At a café… and a library.”
“Two jobs?” he frowned.
She nodded.
“That’s a lot for someone your age.”
“I manage.”
Victor studied her for a moment.
Strong.
But tired.
Very tired.
“My son runs a company,” he said after a pause. “You could work there. It would be better for you.”
Nyra shook her head immediately.
“No… I can’t.”
“Why not?” he asked gently.
“I don’t want to depend on anyone,” she replied. “I want to earn on my own.”
Victor smiled faintly.
Stubborn.
Just like someone he knew.
“Still,” he said, taking out a card and writing something on it, “take this.”
He handed it to her.
“My address.”
Nyra looked at it.
“If you ever need anything… anything at all… come there.”
She hesitated.
Then nodded slowly.
“…thank you.”
Victor gave her a warm look. “And Nyra…”
She looked up.
“Be careful on the roads.”
A small, tired smile appeared on her face.
“You too.”
—
As they parted ways—
Neither of them noticed the black car parked across the street.
Or the man standing beside it.
Watching everything.
Adrian.
His eyes fixed on Nyra.
And then on Victor.
Something shifted in his expression.
Sharp.
Unreadable.
Felix leaned against the car, arms crossed. “Well… that’s interesting.”
Adrian didn’t respond.
Because this—
This wasn’t part of the plan.
And for the first time—
The distance between their worlds had just… disappeared.
—
Nyra walked toward the café.
Victor’s words still lingered in her mind.
“If you ever need anything… come there.”
Her fingers tightened slightly around her bag.
She shook her head softly.
No.
She didn’t need help.
She couldn’t depend on anyone.
Not again.
—
The café bell rang as she stepped inside.
The familiar sound pulled her back to reality.
Work.
That’s what mattered.
“Nyra?” one of the staff called. “Alen’s not coming today.”
She paused for a second.
“…okay.”
That meant—
Everything was on her.
Again.
She nodded quietly and moved behind the counter, tying her apron.
Her body was already tired.
But she didn’t stop.
She never did.
_
And across the café—
Nyra moved from table to table, balancing orders, her steps quick despite the exhaustion.
Her mind still half somewhere else.
On the road.
On the man she saved.
On the strange feeling that something in her life had just… shifted.
She didn’t know how.
She didn’t know why.
But she felt it.
—
“Table five!” someone called.
“I’m coming,” she replied, picking up a tray.
Two coffees.
A glass of water.
She turned—
Walking toward the corner table.
Toward them.
Unaware—
That everything was about to go wrong.
—
At the corner table—
Adrian and Felix sat across from each other.
A file lay open between them.
Important.
Confidential.
Felix flipped through a page. “If we sign this, the Milan deal is locked.”
Adrian leaned back slightly, his eyes scanning the documents.
“It depends on the numbers,” he said calmly.
“They’re solid,” Felix replied. “But the risk—”
“I’ve already calculated it.”
Felix smirked faintly. “Of course you have.”
Adrian didn’t respond.
His attention shifted briefly—
Toward the counter.
Nyra.
Moving quickly.
Handling everything alone.
Tired.
But still working.
Felix noticed. “You’re distracted.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Adrian’s gaze returned to the file. “Continue.”
Felix sighed. “Fine. If we move forward, we’ll need signatures by tonight.”
“Then prepare it.”
—
A few minutes later—
Nyra approached their table, holding a tray.
Two coffees.
A glass of water.
Her grip was steady—
Until it wasn’t.
Her foot caught slightly against the edge of the carpet.
And in one second—
Everything went wrong.
The tray tilted.
The cups slipped.
Coffee spilled.
Right across the table.
Across the file.
Across everything.
—
Silence.
For a second.
A heavy one.
Nyra froze.
Her eyes widened as she looked at the soaked papers.
“Oh—no…”
Her voice came out breathless.
“I—I’m so sorry—”
She quickly placed the tray down, grabbing tissues, trying to wipe the table.
“I didn’t see— I’m really sorry—”
Felix stood up immediately. “Careful—”
But it was already too late.
The ink had spread.
The pages were ruined.
Completely.
Nyra’s hands trembled as she tried to fix it, her heart racing.
“I’ll fix it,” she said quickly. “I can rewrite it—I’ll do it again—”
Adrian hadn’t moved.
Not a single word.
Not a reaction.
Just silence.
That made it worse.
Nyra looked at him, panic clear in her eyes.
“I’m really sorry… I didn’t mean to—”
Felix glanced at Adrian. “It’s an important file.”
Nyra’s breath hitched slightly.
“I’ll redo it,” she said again, more firmly this time. “Please… give me a chance.”
Still—
Adrian said nothing.
He slowly closed what remained of the file, his expression unreadable.
Then he stood up.
Picked his coat.
And walked away.
Without a word.
—
Nyra stood there.
Frozen.
Her hands still holding the tissue.
Her chest tight.
Felix sighed softly, picking up the damaged papers.
“He’s not angry,” he said quietly.
Nyra looked at him. “It doesn’t feel like that.”
Felix gave a small, knowing look. “Trust me… if he was, you’d know.”
That didn’t comfort her.
Not really.
“I’ll fix it,” she said again.
Felix studied her for a moment.
Then nodded. “Alright.”
—
That evening—
Nyra walked home in silence.
Her mind replaying the scene again and again.
The fall.
The file.
His silence.
It stayed with her.
Heavy.
—
The house was still empty.
But she didn’t care.
She didn’t go to the kitchen.
Didn’t do any chores.
Didn’t rest.
She went straight to her room.
Pulled out her notebook.
And started working.
—
Line by line.
Page by page.
She rewrote everything.
Carefully.
Neatly.
Her handwriting steady despite the exhaustion.
She didn’t know what was written in full—
But she remembered enough.
From what she saw.
From what she heard.
And she filled the rest with precision.
Hours passed.
Her eyes burned.
Her fingers hurt.
But she didn’t stop.
“I’ll fix it…” she whispered.
Again.
And again.
Because she had to.
Because she couldn’t leave it like that.
—
By the time she finished—
The sky outside was dark.
Her body felt drained.
But the file—
Was complete.
Perfect.
She looked at it for a long moment.
Then closed it gently.
“…done.”
—
The next day—
Nyra reached the café early.
The file in her hands.
Her grip tight.
Felix was already there.
Alone.
She walked up to him quietly.
“Here,” she said, placing the file on the table.
Felix looked at it.
Then at her.
“You redid it?”
She nodded.
“I tried my best… I’m really sorry about yesterday.”
Felix opened it, flipping through the pages.
His brows lifted slightly.
“This is… accurate.”
“I checked everything,” she said softly.
Felix looked at her again.
“You stayed up all night, didn’t you?”
Nyra didn’t answer.
That was enough.
Felix closed the file.
“I’ll give it to him.”
Nyra nodded.
“…thank you.”
A pause.
Then she said quietly—
“I think I should leave the job.”
Felix frowned slightly. “Because of this?”
“I made a mistake,” she said. “A big one.”
“And you fixed it.”
“That doesn’t change what happened.”
Felix studied her.
“You’re hard on yourself.”
“I have to be.”
Another silence.
Then she stepped back.
“…I’m sorry again.”
And turned.
Walking away.
—
Felix watched her go.
Then looked at the file again.
Then at the empty chair across from him.
“…you’re not going to like this,” he muttered.
Because Adrian Voss—
Was definitely not going to let her walk away that easily.
" TO BE CONTINUED "
____________________________________________________________
Author's note...
Hey everyone 🙂 🙂
What do you think about Nyra and Victor’s interaction? 👀
Did you like their moment together?
I’d love to know your thoughts, so don’t forget to leave a comment 💌
See you in the next chapter!
Bye bye 👋 👋 👋
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