Chapter 4: Not fitting in

“I couldn't help but notice you earlier—you seemed a little out of place among all these suits." Adrian added. 

I couldn't help but laugh, though it was more of a nervous chuckle. "Yeah, I guess I don't really fit the mold," I said, glancing around at the impeccably dressed crowd. "I'm just a freelancer, not part of the corporate world."

"Freelancer, huh?" Adrian said, leaning back slightly. "What kind of work do you do?"

"Graphic design," I replied, gesturing to my portfolio. "I was supposed to meet a client here tonight, but it looks like that plan fell through."

Adrian's eyes flicked to my portfolio, then back to me. "Would you mind if I took a look?" he asked, his tone genuinely interested.

I hesitated for a moment. Showing my work to Adrian Langston felt like stepping into a different realm, a place where the stakes were much higher. But something in his gaze told me he was curious, and I had a feeling it wasn't just polite small talk.

"Sure," I said, opening my portfolio and flipping through a few of my best pieces. "These are some of my recent projects. Mostly branding and marketing materials for small businesses, but I've done a bit of work for tech companies, too."

Adrian leaned forward, examining the designs with a keen eye. He nodded thoughtfully, his gaze moving from one piece to the next. "These are impressive," he said, his tone genuinely complimentary. "You've got talent, Bella. Have you ever considered working for a larger firm?"

I shrugged, not entirely sure how to answer. "I've thought about it, but I like the freedom of freelancing," I replied. "It gives me the flexibility to work with different clients and explore new ideas."

Adrian seemed to consider my words, his fingers tapping idly against his knee. "Flexibility is good," he said, his gaze drifting toward the conference hall. "But there's something to be said for stability, too. A steady paycheck, a solid team—those things can make a big difference."

I knew he was right, of course, but freelancing was all I'd ever known. The idea of working in a corporate setting, with its rigid structure and endless meetings, didn't appeal to me. I was about to respond when Adrian's assistant appeared at his side, whispering something in his ear.

Adrian nodded, his expression unreadable. "It seems I have to go," he said, rising from his seat. "But I'd like to continue this conversation another time, if you're interested."

I felt a flutter of nerves in my stomach. "Sure," I replied, trying to sound casual. "I'm always up for a chat."

Adrian smiled, that same slow smile that seemed to light up the entire room. "Good. I look forward to it," he said, turning to leave with his entourage.

The conference hall slowly emptied as the evening drew to a close, no sign of Marcus and he wasn’t picking his calls either . The hum of voices faded, replaced by the faint echoes of footsteps and the distant clinking of glasses. I packed up my portfolio and made my way toward the exit, my thoughts racing. The encounter with Adrian Langston had left me both intrigued and wary. There was something about him that was undeniably captivating, but I knew better than to be swept up by a charming billionaire.

The night air was cool against my skin as I stepped outside. Meridian City at night was a sight to behold, the skyline ablaze with lights, the streets bustling with activity. I pulled my jacket tighter around me, feeling the chill of the evening breeze. The city's energy was intoxicating, yet I felt a sense of unease. Adrian's words played over in my mind—the way he'd complimented my work, the subtle invitation to continue our conversation. It was all so smooth, almost too smooth.

I walked toward the parking lot, my heels clicking against the pavement. I wasn't sure if I was imagining it, but I felt like I was being watched. I glanced around, but there was no one out of the ordinary—just a few other conference attendees heading home. I shook off the feeling and focused on finding my car, reminding myself that this was just a business event, nothing more.

As I reached my car, I heard a voice behind me. "Bella!"

I turned to see my friend, Charlotte "Charlie" Emerson, jogging up to me. She was dressed in a sleek navy jumpsuit, her blonde hair tied back in a loose ponytail. Charlie was the kind of friend who could always make me laugh, even on the toughest days.

"Hey, Charlie," I said, smiling as she caught up to me. "What are you doing here?"

"Networking," she replied with a grin. "You know how it is—always meeting new people, making connections. But hey, I saw you talking to Adrian Langston earlier. What's that all about?"

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "It was just a mix-up with a meeting room. He apologized, and we talked for a bit."

Charlie raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Talked, huh? Looked like he was pretty interested in you."

I rolled my eyes. "Charlie, don't start. He's just a CEO, and I'm just a freelancer. We're from completely different worlds."

"Maybe," she said, her smile widening. "But you never know. These things have a way of surprising you."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Yeah, right. Anyway, I'm heading home. I'll catch up with you later?"

"Sure thing," Charlie said, giving me a quick hug. "But hey, be careful, okay? These corporate types can be tricky."

I nodded, appreciating her concern. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

I got into my car and started the engine, my mind still racing with thoughts of Adrian. He'd mentioned a business collaboration, but I wasn't sure what that meant. Was he interested in my work, or was there something else at play? I knew better than to take things at face value, especially with someone as powerful as Adrian Langston.

As I drove home, I received a text message. It was from an unknown number, and the message was short and cryptic:

"Be careful. Don't get involved with Adrian Langston."

I felt a chill run down my spine as I read the message. Who would send something like this, and why? I glanced in the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see someone following me, but the road was clear.

What did this mean? Was it a warning, a threat, or just someone trying to mess with me?