Chapter Four

The door closed softly behind Brian and I exhaled. My father continued sorting through the documents on his desk, completely unaware of the storm running through my mind. I glanced at the closed door. Brian was gone. I lowered my eyes to my phone, pretending to check something.

For the past weeks, I had been seeing him around the company. I knew his name. I had noticed the way he carried himself and the quiet confidence he had even while doing ordinary work. But I had never asked my father about him. Not directly. Now, I decided to pretend I had barely noticed him.

“Father?”

He looked up. “Yes?”

I hesitated, making my voice casual. “Is that a new sales boy?”

His eyebrows lifted slightly. “Yes, Lucy. Sorry, I forgot to tell you. Every new worker in the company should be known to you. After all, you're the heir to the Davidson empire.”

I nodded, keeping my expression calm. “Right.”

He returned his attention to the papers. “His name is Brian.”

I already knew that. Still, I forced myself to appear curious. “Brian?”

“Yes.” He signed a document and moved it aside. “He's one of the new workers. He needed a job, so I gave him a position here.”

I said nothing. He paused briefly before adding, “He's one of those boys from the streets, I suppose. He didn't have a home so I accommodated him in the company's apartment.”

I looked at him. “Street boy?” The words came out before I could stop them.

He glanced up. “Yes. Why?”

“Nothing.” I quickly shook my head. “I'm just asking.”

He shrugged. “There's nothing unusual about it. Davidson Industries employs people from different backgrounds. If someone can work, they work.” He returned to his documents.

I remained still. That answer should have reassured me. Instead, one phrase kept circling through my mind: Street boy.

I looked toward the door again. Brian. The same man who had stood in the office only moments ago. The same man who had spoken respectfully to my father, delivered the files, and left without giving me any reason to think he saw me differently. A street boy.

I swallowed. My father had never cared about someone's background when it came to ordinary employees. But marriage was different. I knew that. My father had spent years protecting the Davidson name. He cared about reputation, connections, wealth, and family standing. Julian Vance was exactly the kind of man he would approve of. Brian was nothing like him.

I lowered my gaze and tightened my grip around my phone.

Why did it matter so much? I had known Brian for only a short time. Yet somehow, the thought of losing the chance to know him properly frightened me. I took a slow breath. Maybe I should stop this before it became worse. That would be the sensible thing to do.

I could distance myself. Stop looking for him whenever I entered the company. Stop wondering where he was. Stop noticing when he walked past. Stop thinking about him when I was alone. It sounded easy. But even imagining it made something inside me resist.

I frowned. Why couldn't I simply let it go? My eyes moved back to the door. Because I didn't want to. The realization came quietly. I looked away. That was the problem. I didn't want to stop.

I wanted to see him again. I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to hear him speak to me without my father being in the room. I wanted to know what he liked, what made him laugh, where he had come from. The thoughts came one after another.

I immediately stopped myself. I had to be careful. I was already thinking too far ahead. My father had told me Brian came from the streets. He had given him a job and a place to stay. That meant Brian probably had very little. No wealthy family. No influential connections. No name that could stand beside Davidson. And yet, none of that changed the way I felt when I saw him.

I leaned back in my chair. What if money could solve the problem? The thought appeared suddenly. I stared at the phone in my hand. I had money. More than enough. If Brian needed better clothes, I could buy them. If he needed education, I could pay for it. If he needed a better apartment, I could arrange one. I could change his circumstances without anyone knowing.

My fingers tightened around the phone. But then I stopped. Would that really change who he was? And more importantly, would I be helping him because I cared about him or because I wanted to make him acceptable to my father?

The question made me uncomfortable. I didn't want to turn Brian into someone he wasn't. I didn't want to buy his way into a life he hadn't chosen. I simply wanted him.

The thought startled me. I sat up straighter. No. I couldn't think like that. Brian wasn't mine. He didn't even know I liked him. He probably had no idea that I had spent the last several days thinking about him. For all I knew, he went home every evening without giving me a second thought.

That realization hurt more than I expected. I looked down at my hands. Maybe that was what made my obsession so dangerous. I had created an entire world around feelings Brian didn't even know existed. To him, I was probably nothing more than Arthur Davidson's daughter. Someone he should respect. Someone he should keep his distance from. And perhaps that was exactly what he would do if he ever discovered how I felt.

I closed my eyes for a moment. I could already imagine my father's reaction. He would tell me that Brian wasn't suitable. He would remind me who I was. He would remind me that I was the Davidson heiress. He would probably ask what I could possibly see in a man who had nothing to offer me. And I wouldn't know how to answer. Because Brian hadn't offered me anything.

That was the truth. He hadn't chased me. He hadn't flirted with me. He hadn't promised me anything. I was the one who had started feeling this way. I was the one who couldn't stop thinking about him.

I opened my eyes. “Is it wrong?” The words slipped from my lips.

My father looked up from his papers. “What?”

I shook my head quickly. “Nothing, Father.”

He watched me for a second before returning to his work. I released a quiet breath. My eyes drifted toward the door again. I wondered where Brian was now. Probably back downstairs. Working. Completely unaware that his name had become the one thing I couldn't push out of my mind.

I looked away. I knew I should let the feeling die before it became impossible to control. But another thought rose above all the others. What if I didn't want it to die?

My heart beat faster. I lowered my voice until it was barely a whisper. “Is it wrong if I'm the one who wants him first?”

The question remained unanswered. But deep down, I already knew the truth. I wasn't ready to give him up.