Malikha forced a smile as she walked into her mom's room, steadying her breath before anyone could notice the tension in her shoulders. The moment her eyes landed on the tall, handsome, mature man standing near the bed, her smile stretched wider.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Caesar," she greeted politely, lowering her gaze for a second before looking up again. Brandon Caesar smiled warmly at her, and she returned it with careful control.
"How's your day, Malikha?"
She bit her lower lip lightly, a habit she had whenever she needed to lie without being obvious. Then she lifted her chin and smiled brighter, as if nothing had happened. "Everything's great," she answered smoothly.
Malikha did not stare at Brandon for long because more eye contact invited questions, so he would not be curious. She didn't have the energy to explain what had just turned her life upside down. Aidan had bought the bar and erased her job like it meant nothing. What she didn't know, what twisted fate had hidden from her, was that Brandon was Aidan's father.
She watched quietly as Brandon stepped closer to Fiona, her mother. The softness in his eyes when he looked at her mom made Malikha's chest ache in a way she didn't expect. After years of separation, after so much history she barely understood, Brandon had married Aidan's mother and somehow found his way back into their lives, back to Fiona.
From the doorway, unseen by them, Aidan stood with clenched fists. Malikha didn't see him, but if she had, she might have recognized the storm brewing behind his silence to see that they looked like a complete family—father, mother, and daughter.
"I'll destroy all of you," he muttered before turning away.
The next day, Malikha sat curled on her worn sofa in her tiny, suffocating loft. The walls felt closer than usual, as if they were pressing in on her. Her laptop wheezed under her fingertips as she searched for job listings, refreshing the page again and again as it might suddenly change her luck. But nothing for her. She exhaled slowly, long and tired, staring at the cracked corner of her screen. A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. She stood, smoothed her dress unconsciously, and opened the door.
Malikha froze the second she saw him. Aidan was standing right in front of her apartment door as he belonged there, tall and composed, completely out of place in her narrow hallway. Her eyes widened before she could stop herself. How on earth did he find her?
"H-how did you even know I was here?" she asked, her voice coming out softer than she intended.
When she pulled the door open wider, Aidan's eyebrow lifted slightly as he took her in. She suddenly became painfully aware of what she was wearing─a loose T-shirt dress that slipped a little off one shoulder, her short hair half-tied back in a messy ponytail. She hadn't expected anyone. Especially not him.
"Easy," he said flatly. "I just asked around. Anyone who knows you."
He stood there like a wall of quiet authority, waiting. A shout from down the hallway made her glance sideways, suddenly conscious of neighbors watching. Heat crawled up her neck. Malikha looked back at him and gave an awkward, almost sarcastic grin.
"Are you just going to let me stand out here?" he asked.
She blinked, straightening slightly. "And what exactly do you want, sir?" She put just enough politeness into her voice to make it sharp.
He let out a short breath of annoyance and brushed past her without waiting for permission, his arm nudging her aside as he stepped into the apartment. Malikha stumbled a little, heart jumping, then quickly shut the door and followed him inside.
"Aren't you looking for a job?" he asked, as if commenting on the weather.
Her brows pulled together. "How could you know?"
Aidan turned and sarcastically scoffed. "I'll demolish the bar. Where are you going to work?"
Malikha was stunned and didn't reply. Instead, she felt his eyes roam. Her place was tiny. Painfully tiny. And Aidan's eyes were already roaming, taking in the narrow walls, the cramped kitchenette, the single bean bag chair that passed for living room furniture.
"What are you living in, a shoebox?" he said dryly. "No. This is smaller than a shoebox. My wardrobe is three times bigger than this."
Her lips pushed into a pout before she could stop herself. Of course, he would mock her. He would measure her life in square footage, as if she chose to live like this.
"What do you want?" she shot back sweetly, with a bite underneath. He turned and glared at her, but she didn't look away.
Aidan exhaled, long and controlled, then walked over to the lone bean bag chair and dropped into it like he owned the space. He crossed one leg over the other, completely at ease.
Malikha stayed standing, folding her hands behind her back so he wouldn't see them fidget. There wasn't anywhere else to sit anyway.
"I want to give you your severance payment."
Aidan pulled an envelope from his suit and held it out. She stared at it, then at him, in audacity. She pushed it back toward him and shook her head to refuse.
"You are not my boss. I don't even know you."
She didn't see the flicker of irritation in his eyes. Her ignorance made him scoff cynically. But Aidan had changed his mind. Instead of using hate words, he preferred another tactic.
"Let's call this an investment," he said. "I want to use it properly."
He didn't pull the envelope back. Instead, his fingers closed around her hand, pressing the money into her palm.
She frowned. Investment? It took her a second. "I don't understand," she said honestly.
"The money is for you to rent a better place. Or buy better clothes." His gaze dipped meaningfully. Malikha looked down at her outfit before shifting back to Aidan's arrogance.
"So, you can work in my company." He added.
Her breath caught. Yesterday, he had humiliated her, accused her, and looked at her like she was disposable. Now he stood here offering opportunity like it was mercy. It only confused Malikha more. She didn't understand.
"But yesterday…" she began, her voice smaller.
"I don't want to talk about that. I'm sorry." His voice softened, and it confused her more than his cruelty ever had. His eyes held hers intense sincerely. Or at least, they looked sincere. When he took her hand again, her thoughts scattered. His thumb brushed lightly against her skin, and her chest tightened.
"I made a mistake accusing you like that," he said gently. "I regret it. I want to make it up to you. Would you forgive me?"
She searched his face for mockery and sarcasm, yet she found none. Her heart betrayed her first when his bad demeanor a couple of minutes ago had vanished, and Malikha drowned in his sweet talk. "Yes," Malikha sighed.
His smile was soft now, almost vulnerable. Nothing like the cold man from minutes ago. He held her hand as if it meant something. As if time had paused just for them, they drowned into each other's souls. "I'm sorry," he said again, quieter.
He pulled his hand, shyly. Malikha blushed when Aidan turned soft on her. Though she has no idea how Aidan was actually taking advantage of her innocence. And for the first time, Aidan realized just how easy she was to break.