CHAPTER 4 - The Woman He Was Meant To Marry

The sound of high heels clicked on the shiny floor. It got closer with each step, people looked up, waiting to see who it was.

Patricia Weston had arrived.

She walked into Blacke Tech like she owned the place. Her black coat hung neatly over one arm. Hair done perfectly. Lips red like wine. She didn’t look around for directions. She didn’t ask for anyone. She already knew where she was going.

The receptionist recognized her, but no one said anything. No one stopped her.

She made her way to the top floor. The glass elevator carried her up slowly, each level reflecting back her own image: perfect posture, confident smile, and eyes too sharp to ignore.

When the elevator doors opened, she walked straight toward Ace’s office. The staff nearby looked up, confused, some surprised. She didn’t care.

Ace was inside, behind his desk, eyes on his laptop. He looked up when she entered.

Patricia smiled and opened her arms.

“Hello, stranger.”

He stood but didn’t move to meet her. His face stayed calm. The same quiet face he used in meetings, when everything inside was shut down.

She walked over and hugged him.

It lasted a little too long.

Ace’s arms didn’t move. He let her hold him, then gently stepped back.

“You should’ve called,” he said.

“I like surprises,” she answered, brushing her coat over the back of a chair.

He didn’t respond.

They talked for a few minutes. She asked about his work. His board. His health. Her voice was warm, light, and filled with old memories he didn’t want to revisit.

He kept his answers short.

Patricia didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she didn’t care.

Downstairs, Emma walked into the lobby at that same moment, she was on her way out to run some erran. She had files in her hand and a deadline in her head. Her steps were steady. Her face calm. She passed through the glass doors, heading for the elevators.

The lobby staff gave her a quick nod, half distracted by the security feed showing Patricia upstairs.

Emma didn’t look at the screen.

She didn’t know who Patricia was. Not yet.

But as she stepped into the elevator, something made her pause. Her eyes caught a flash of movement on the security monitor, Patricia’s arm around Ace, her hand on his shoulder.

Emma didn’t stop walking. Didn’t flinch. She pressed the elevator button and stared at the closing doors until they shut.

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Later that evening, Emma returned with Lola to her suite in the penthouse. Her shoes clicked softly against the marble floor. The room was dim, lit only by the skyline outside. She tossed her bag on the counter and moved toward the kitchen.

Something stopped her.

On the small side table near the entryway sat a tall, clear vase filled with white orchids. Fresh. Elegant. Fragrant. But no note.

She stood there for a moment, staring at them. Then she reached out and touched one of the petals, careful and slow.

Behind her, Lola entered the room holding two takeout bags.

“They’re beautiful,” she said, placing the food on the table. “At least he’s trying.”

Emma didn’t turn around.

“They’re not from him.”

Lola raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue.

Emma stayed still a little longer, then walked away from the flowers. She didn’t throw them out. But she didn’t put them anywhere special either. She let them stay right where they were, alone by the door.

Still, her eyes had lingered a second too long.

—------------

Meanwhile, Patricia didn’t leave the office quietly.

She stayed. She made herself known.

She walked the halls like she had history there. She smiled at people, greeted executives by name, reminded them of parties they used to attend together. Her voice was warm and sweet, but there was something sharp under it. Something that cut a little too close.

She found Brian near the elevators later that day. He was leaving for a late meeting, coffee in hand and phone in his pocket.

Patricia blocked his path, smiling.“Brian,” she said. “Still grumpy?”

He smiled politely. “Always.”

She stepped closer, leaning in like they were old friends. “Is Ace seeing anyone?”

Brian paused. He didn’t answer right away, he looked her up and down once, then looked away. “He’s busy,” he said.

Patricia tilted her head. “That’s not an answer.”

He gave a half-smile. “It’s the only one you’re getting.” Then he walked away.

Two nights later, there was a private dinner for Blacke Tech’s board members and a few key partners. It was held at a quiet, exclusive restaurant uptown. Ace arrived late.

He walked in with Patricia on his arm.She wore silver and moved like she belonged. A few people turned their heads. Some smiled. Some looked confused. Patricia smiled at all of them.

At the far end of the room, Emma was already seated at the table. She was there to represent her firm, one of the legal teams working with the board. She wore a black dress, simple and clean, hair pulled back neatly.

She didn’t look at Ace when he entered.

Didn’t react to the woman with him.

Her eyes stayed on her water glass, then on the man to her right, who was speaking about a clause in the upcoming expansion agreement.

Ace noticed. He felt her stillness across the room. It pressed against his chest in a way he couldn’t explain.

Throughout dinner, Patricia laughed. She told stories. She touched Ace’s arm every few minutes. But his eyes kept drifting across the table.

Emma never looked up. She took notes and spoke when spoken to. She remained polite, intelligent, and steady. She appeared unbothered and that bothered Ace More than he expected.

The night ended late. The board members left in groups. Some shook Ace’s hand. Some nodded to Emma. Patricia stood by the coat check, pretending not to notice how quiet Ace had become.

Emma left without saying goodbye. She didn’t need to.

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Back at the penthouse, Emma poured herself a glass of water and sat near the window. The city lights stretched far into the dark. Her heels were off. Her feet ached. Her head throbbed. But her face was calm. She didn’t ask who the woman was. She didn’t ask where Ace had gone after the dinner. She didn’t say anything.

Ace stood in his own suite, looking out through his own set of windows, staring at the same city. He could still feel Patricia’s hand on his arm. But it was Emma’s silence he couldn’t forget. It was the way she had stayed quiet. Unbothered. Perfectly distant. It made And something in him crack. He had spent years keeping control. Not letting people in. Not letting them close. But her distance felt worse than anyone else’s attention.

For the first time, Ace began to wonder if the woman he thought he was meant to marry… had already walked past him without blinking.

And he had no idea how to get her to stop.