Chapter 03

Hazel stared at the recorder screen on the table — it had been more than twenty minutes.

She should have stopped now, wrapped up the interview, and written a short report for her editor. But for some reason, her finger remained hovering over the stop button. Diego Ronan Blake hadn't given any indication that the session was over, and Hazel's body seemed to refuse to stand up.

The man lounged in his chair, his black shirt slightly open at the neck, revealing golden skin and smooth muscle lines that moved with every breath he took. His fingers tapped lightly on the armrest, the rhythm slow... almost like the beat of Hazel's own heart.

"Hazel Quinn..." he murmured, his voice heavy and calm, as though emerging from a long silence.

He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping gently on the armrest in a regular rhythm.

"Miss Quinn," he finally said, his tone almost like a murmur, "this is the first time I've met a journalist like you."

Hazel lifted her head, slightly confused but still keeping her expression composed. "Like me?"

Diego tilted his head, his dark eyes staring at her as if they could read through her skin.

"Is this the real Miss Hazel Quinn..." he paused for a moment, his voice lowering half an octave, "or just the version you show me?"

Hazel swallowed, hiding her nervousness with a thin smile. "I don't know what version you're referring to, Mr. Blake."

"Diego," he cut in softly but firmly. "I don't like formalities."

Hazel hesitated for a moment before complying. "Alright, Diego."

The name came out softly, but it sounded too gentle even in her own ears — and Diego knew it.

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, a faint smile that wasn't exactly unfriendly but also couldn’t be called cold. It was a smile that felt... dangerous.

"Maybe that's why," he said softly, "you've got me curious."

Hazel tried to hold her breath, staring at the recorder still running on the table.

Damn. She shouldn't be reacting like this. She had known from the start that there was nothing easy about interviewing Diego Blake. But what was difficult wasn’t his questions — it was herself.

Diego smiled faintly — not the kind of smile you usually saw on camera. There was something else in it, as if he was weighing whether to devour his prey or just play with it first.

Most women, Hazel knew, would lower their gaze under such a stare. But she was different. She pulled back, not because she wasn't interested, but because she knew her place. She didn't want to appear as a foolish fan who imagined she could step into a world like Diego's.

And maybe, because of that, Diego kept watching her even more intently.

Hazel looked up. "What do you mean?"

"The way you look at me," Diego leaned forward slightly, his eyes tracing Hazel's face slowly, "it's not like a journalist trying to provoke a headline. But like someone who's... assessing."

Hazel blinked. "Sorry... I don't understand." She said, hiding her nervousness for fear of making a mistake that could cost her the job. Her job was more important than anything.

Diego chuckled softly — a low, deep laugh that made something inside Hazel shift slowly. "Or maybe you're holding something back."

Hazel stared at him flatly, pretending not to understand. "Holding back what?"

"Not letting yourself fall," he said softly. "On something you could easily just treat like everyone else, casually." Diego's gaze now seemed to assess, like he could tell that this young woman before him didn’t have much experience with the opposite sex. She looked innocent and naive.

Physically, she was actually quite attractive. But there was a weariness covering it. Her chest wasn’t big, but with a slim waist, everything... just right. What stood out the most were her eyes. They must be incredibly beautiful and sexy during moments of intimacy.

For a moment, Hazel lost her breath. She didn’t know whether Diego was just teasing or truly reading her mind.

The silence between them felt thick, almost like fog. Hazel diverted her gaze, seeking hold of the script in her hand, but the words weren’t readable.

She thought to herself:

So this is why.

Why Mr. Martin asked me to handle this. Because a man like him could make anyone lose their words. His cold yet dominant demeanor made people feel small in his presence.

Hazel took a slow breath. She had to hold on.

Thankfully, she had never had the habit of idolizing anyone.

And maybe, because of that, she was still able to sit here — though her heart had long since ceased to be at peace.

"It seems like this interview has gone on long enough, Diego. I don’t want to take up any more of your time," she finally said.

Diego didn’t immediately respond. He just kept watching her, his demeanor still calm, but there was something in that stare, something that made the air between them shift in temperature.

Then the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

"Now I understand why your editor chose you, not someone else."

Hazel frowned slightly. "Why’s that?"

Diego didn’t answer right away. He just kept staring at her, almost unblinking.

Then, slowly, the corner of his mouth lifted just a little.

"Not many people can stay calm in front of me, Miss Hazel."

His voice was flat, but there was something soft in it — as though complimenting her, while also testing her.

Hazel tried to smile, holding in a breath that felt heavy in her chest. "I’m just doing my job, Mr. Blake."

"Diego, you forgot again," he reminded her softly.

Hazel nodded slightly. "Alright, sorry... Diego."

The name slipped out effortlessly, too soft, too personal — and she knew Diego heard it.

The man leaned forward slightly, his eyes never leaving Hazel’s face.

Of course, Hazel felt awkward. She didn’t dare meet his gaze directly, but looking away felt even more wrong.

"You’re right, Mr. Blake... I mean, Diego. Because you’re quite mysterious and respected, aren’t you? That’s why they’re all afraid," Hazel mumbled.

"No," he replied finally. "Because most of them forget they’re supposed to be working."

Hazel wasn’t sure whether that sentence was a warning, a temptation, or just a statement of fact. But one thing was certain — at that moment, she could feel the temperature of the room change.

It was too quiet. Too close.

She pulled back slowly, saving herself with a thin professional smile. "I’ll send you the transcript in two days."

As she turned to leave, Diego’s voice sounded again — soft, almost like a murmur intentionally left hanging in the air:

"Don’t rush, Hazel. Some things are more interesting when you leave them hanging a little longer."

Hazel turned around, just for a moment. His gaze was like a shadow — untouchable but still felt.

And for the first time, Hazel wasn’t sure who was interviewing whom. She smiled awkwardly, trying to hold back something strange in her chest.

Maybe it was just her feelings.

Or maybe... ah, no! Hazel, you need to know your place! He’s not someone you should even be imagining!

Hazel grabbed her bag, bowing politely. "Thank you for your time, Diego. I really appreciate it."

Diego stood slowly. His movements were calm, but there was something in the way he looked at her that made the air between them feel like it was thinning.

"Hazel," he called, just before she could take another step.

Hazel stopped, turning halfway, her heart beating erratically.

Diego looked at her from behind the studio lights, his smile faint and almost invisible, but enough to make Hazel’s body tense for no reason.

"If you ever feel like this interview wasn’t enough..." he said softly, his voice dropping half an octave. "I wouldn’t mind if you want to come back."