Nobela ni Faith Micheal

The car moved steadily through the quiet streets, the soft glow of streetlights spilling softly across the windows. Cassandra sat with her hands resting lightly in her lap, keeping her gaze forward while letting her thoughts drift back to the ballroom, the awards, the conversations, and the subtle tension that lingered from the evening.After a few minutes of smooth driving, Dimitri’s calm voice broke the quiet. “Where should I take you?”Cassandra glanced briefly at him before replying, her voice even. “The apartment on Elm Street. Just past the park.”Louis kept his attention on the road, letting the space in the back seat remain private. Cassandra exhaled lightly after a moment, then offered a soft, “Thank you.”“You’re welcome,” Dimitri replied, his tone controlled, steady, and unflinching.A few minutes passed in silence. Finally, Cassandra ventured, carefully choosing her words. “And… congratulations on your awards tonight.”Dimitri’s dark eyes flicked toward her. “Thank you. St

Cassandra’s gaze followed the movement quietly, noting the effortless power in the way he commanded the space without seeking it. Her pulse quickened, not from jealousy but from a mixture of intrigue and a memory she could not shake.She caught herself staring once too long, and for a heartbeat, their eyes met. Nothing dramatic, nothing forced, just a subtle connection. He returned to the women around him, but the slight lift of his brow hinted that he had noticed.Cassandra exhaled lightly and forced herself back into conversation with the rest of the staff, but the awareness lingered, a quiet hum beneath the music and laughter. She couldn’t deny it: the night had shifted the moment she’d glimpsed him here, commanding the room and her attention all at once.Louis, seated just beside Dimitri, leaned in with a knowing smirk. “Looks like she’s watching,” he murmured.Dimitri’s expression remained calm, controlled, and utterly indifferent, but the smallest twitch at the corner of his mou

A shadow shifted nearby, and strong hands caught her gently at the elbows, grounding her.“Careful,” a low, measured voice murmured.Her gaze lifted, and there he was. Dimitri Jenkins, standing close, his presence commanding yet effortless. The faint scent of him brushed past her as his dark eyes met hers, calm and unreadable, holding a quiet intensity that made her pulse quicken.The contact lingered just a heartbeat longer than necessary. In that instant, memories flared, the heat of that night, the weight of his body, the rasp of his voice whispering her name. Her chest tightened, a mixture of recognition, fear, and something she could hardly name.Dimitri’s face remained composed, indifferent, yet the directness of his stare hinted that he remembered. He knew.Cassandra drew a slow, steadying breath. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above the hum of the night.For a moment, neither moved. The quiet city and distant music surrounded them, but the tension between them was

As the applause faded, the guests didn’t simply disperse. Clusters formed around both Sterling Heights and Jenkins Enterprises, each group buzzing with admiration, curiosity, and a touch of strategic interest.A senior executive from a prominent firm approached Cassandra with a warm smile. “Two awards tonight, that’s impressive. Sterling Heights is really making waves,” he said, offering a polite handshake. “I’d love to discuss potential collaboration in the coming months.”Cassandra nodded graciously, her mind already cataloging possibilities. “Thank you, I’d be happy to schedule a meeting,” she replied, her voice steady and professional, even as a flicker of excitement danced through her chest.Nearby, Dimitri’s table was a small whirlwind of attention. Influential figures leaned in, offering congratulations, sharing subtle pitches, and seeking even the slightest acknowledgment from him. “Five awards,” one guest whispered to another, “and you saw how composed he was? That’s power in

Cassandra did not allow herself to falter. If anything, that unseen tether only strengthened her resolve. By the time she brought her speech to a close, ending with a poised, “Thank you,” she received a fresh wave of applause, polite but laced with genuine acknowledgment. She stepped down from the stage with her head high, the applause fading into the hum of conversation once again. But as she returned to her seat, she could not ignore the undeniable awareness that Dimitri Jenkins had been watching and that his silence, somehow, spoke louder than the claps of the entire room. At Dimitri’s table, Louis leaned back slightly, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “Impressive,” he murmured low enough for only Dimitri to hear. “She held that room without breaking a sweat. Sterling Heights chose wisely putting her up there.” His tone carried no mockery, only quiet acknowledgment of what they had both witnessed. Then, with a side glance at Dimitri, he added, “And judging by the stares she

As the first round of formalities concluded, the ballroom eased back into its vibrant current. Guests moved gracefully between tables, pausing to exchange pleasantries and measure one another’s standing. Waiters glided about with trays of champagne and cocktails, their movements practiced and silent against the polished marble floor. At Cassandra’s table, Hayden Foreman was in his element. His charm drew a steady stream of colleagues and acquaintances, some eager to catch up after his recent travels, others angling for the credibility of being seen beside him. Cassandra remained attentive at his side, contributing when spoken to, but more often she observed. She noticed the way Hayden could balance warmth with authority, his reputation commanding respect without effort. The company staff, seated nearby, exchanged quiet glances of pride at being so well-represented tonight. On the opposite end of the hall, Dimitri Jenkins was no less the center of gravity. Though he hadn’t moved from