3 : The Art of Getting Closer

CHAPTER 3

Elise’s POV

Three weeks.

That was how long it had been since Reou Alexander Moretti last spoke to me.

Three weeks since his voice had slipped through my phone, calm and unreadable, leaving me with a question I couldn’t stop thinking about.

Why are you really back?

Honestly, Reou, I would have told you the truth if you had given me the chance.

I came back because of you.

But telling him that would be the equivalent of handing him a loaded gun and asking him to shoot me with it.

So, naturally, I did what any sensible woman with a questionable love life would do.

I avoided answering the question.

And he, being the infuriating man he was, hadn’t called again.

Not that I was waiting.

I was simply checking my phone more often than usual.

A completely different thing.

“Miss Elise?”

I looked up from my phone. Mrs. Dela Cruz stood by the doorway, holding a folder against her chest.

“Your father asked me to remind you about tomorrow’s meeting with the engineering department.”

“Right. Thank you.”

She nodded before leaving, but not before giving me the kind of smile that suggested she knew exactly what I had been doing.

I immediately placed my phone facedown.

The screen had been showing the same article for the past twenty minutes.

MORETTI HEIR REOU ALEXANDER ANNOUNCES ENGAGEMENT.

Still no name.

No photograph.

No clue about the woman who had somehow managed to secure a place beside the most emotionally unavailable man in the country.

I hated how much I cared.

Reou wasn’t mine. He had never been mine. And whatever arrangement or decision had led to his engagement, I had no right to interfere.

But knowing that didn’t make the news hurt any less.

I closed the article.

“Fine,” I whispered to myself. “Be engaged, then.”

I paused.

“Preferably unhappily.”

Then I covered my mouth.

Goodness. I had been home for three weeks, and apparently, my maturity had decided to stay in the States.

⸻

The Rockwells and the Morettis had always been connected, whether either family liked admitting it or not.

My family owned one of the largest engineering companies in the country. We built infrastructure, developed communities, and handled projects that affected thousands of lives.

The Morettis, on the other hand, controlled one of the country’s largest suppliers of engineering materials.

Our businesses competed for influence, but they also depended on the same industry. Rockwell projects required materials, and Moretti contracts supplied them.

It was a complicated relationship.

One filled with negotiations, competing interests, and the occasional boardroom disagreement that left executives pretending not to despise one another.

In other words, a perfect environment for two families that had never learned how to get along.

And an even better environment for me to get close to Reou.

If I couldn’t find a reason to meet him outside work, perhaps I could create one inside it.

The thought came to me while reviewing my credentials.

My degree had focused on material quality assurance, technical standards, and product assessment. My training also covered areas that overlapped with procurement, design, and marketing.

I understood materials, their specifications, and the consequences of approving something that failed to meet the required standards.

It was practical knowledge. Useful knowledge.

And, more importantly, knowledge that could get me through the doors of Moretti Group without having to announce that I was Aurora Annaliese Rockwell, daughter of the family their company competed against.

I stared at my résumé.

Then I opened the Moretti Group careers page.

A position was available in the procurement and materials quality assurance department.

I smiled.

Well, look at that.

Perhaps the universe hadn’t abandoned me after all.

Or perhaps it was simply enjoying my suffering.

Either way, I wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.

⸻

The application process was surprisingly straightforward.

My academic records were excellent, my credentials were more than sufficient, and my experience during my studies had prepared me for the responsibilities listed in the job description.

The only problem was my surname.

Rockwell.

It was practically a walking announcement of my identity.

I couldn’t exactly apply to the Moretti Group with that name and expect nobody to recognize me.

So I entered my name as Aurora Annaliese.

No surname.

No mention of my family.

No photographs of me standing beside my parents at business galas or appearing in society pages.

Just another fresh graduate looking for a job.

I knew it wasn’t a perfect disguise. Background checks existed, and I wasn’t naive enough to believe I could hide forever.

But I didn’t need forever.

I only needed enough time to understand the man Reou had become.

I wanted to see him beyond the headlines, the boardroom, and the carefully constructed image of an untouchable CEO.

More importantly, I wanted him to see me without the Rockwell name standing between us.

I wasn’t trying to sabotage his company. I wasn’t there to steal confidential information or undermine his family’s business.

I simply wanted a chance.

A real one.

One where he might eventually discover that the girl he once avoided had grown into a woman capable of standing beside him without asking him to carry her.

And perhaps, if I was lucky, he might finally understand that I had never looked at him with pity.

I had looked at him because even then, when we were children, I had noticed the loneliness he tried so desperately to hide.

The application was submitted at 11:47 p.m.

I closed my laptop.

“Please don’t let this be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” I whispered.

My phone vibrated.

An email.

My heart leaped before I even opened it.

APPLICATION RECEIVED.

I stared at the screen.

“That isn’t an acceptance letter, Elise.”

I set the phone down.

Then picked it up again.

Just in case.

⸻

Four days later, I received an invitation for an assessment.

Two days after that, I completed the technical examination and interview.

By the following afternoon, I had an offer.

I read the email three times.

Then a fourth.

Congratulations. You have been selected to join Moretti Group as a Junior Materials Quality Assurance Associate.

I pressed a hand over my mouth.

I had done it.

I was officially employed by the company of the man who had occupied far too much space in my heart for far too many years.

And I hadn’t even needed to use my family name.

For the first time in weeks, I felt genuinely excited.

Then I remembered something important.

I would be working for Reou Alexander Moretti.

The same Reou who once told me to stop looking at him as if I pitied him.

The same Reou who could silence an entire room with a glance.

The same Reou who had recently announced his engagement.

My excitement slowly turned into dread.

“Oh, I’m going to regret this.”

Probably.

But I had never been particularly good at staying away from him.

⸻

REOU’s POV

“Another candidate?”

Reou didn’t look up from the report in front of him.

His chief of staff, Mr. Bennett, stood across his desk with a personnel file.

“The new hire for materials quality assurance, sir. She passed the assessment with one of the highest scores in the applicant pool.”

Reou turned a page.

“Then assign her to the department.”

“There is one matter you should know.”

That made him pause.

“What?”

“The previous employee in that position was accepting kickbacks from a supplier. She approved materials that failed to meet our standards.”

Reou’s expression hardened.

“I know. I fired her myself.”

“Yes, sir. The new employee will be coordinating with procurement and reporting quality concerns directly to you.”

“Then make sure she understands the standards.”

Mr. Bennett hesitated.

“She may need your guidance during her first few weeks.”

“Then she can ask questions when necessary.”

“Would you like to interview her personally?”

“No.”

The answer came so quickly that Mr. Bennett wisely decided not to argue.

Reou returned to his report.

“I don’t care how impressive her credentials are. I care whether she can do the job. If she can’t, replace her.”

“Understood, sir.”

Mr. Bennett collected the remaining documents.

Just before he reached the door, Reou spoke again.

“And Bennett?”

The chief of staff turned.

“Check her background thoroughly. I don’t want another supplier’s interests disguised as an employee’s loyalty.”

“Of course, sir.”

The door closed.

Reou leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting toward the city beyond the windows.

He had more important things to worry about than another new employee.

Contracts needed reviewing. A major project was approaching its deadline. His parents were already asking questions about wedding preparations he had barely acknowledged.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, Aurora Rockwell had returned home.

He hadn’t forgotten the conversation they’d had.

Why are you really back?

She hadn’t answered him.

That bothered him more than it should have.

He told himself it was curiosity.

Nothing more.

⸻

The night before my first day, I stood in front of my bedroom mirror, holding two blouses against my body.

White or cream?

Professional or approachable?

Elegant or forgettable?

I frowned at my reflection.

“Why am I acting like I’m preparing to meet the president?”

Because, unfortunately, the president of my personal emotional crisis had a name.

Reou Alexander Moretti.

I finally settled on a cream blouse, black trousers, and a simple pair of heels. Nothing extravagant. Nothing that would make anyone look twice.

Tomorrow, I wouldn’t be the Rockwell heiress returning from the States.

I wouldn’t be the girl who had spent years quietly loving a boy who refused to let anyone close.

I would be Aurora Annaliese, a fresh graduate beginning her first job.

An ordinary employee. Good thing most people knew me for Elise.

I checked my bag, arranged my documents, and set my alarm.

Then my eyes drifted toward the newspaper clipping I had kept hidden inside my drawer.

Reou’s photograph stared back at me.

The engagement headline remained just as infuriating as the first time I had read it.

I touched the edge of the paper.

“Who is she?” I whispered.

For a moment, I wondered whether I was being foolish. Whether I was walking into a situation where my feelings would only become another thing Reou would resent.

But I had come home with one hope: to give us a chance that childhood had never allowed.

I wasn’t going to demand his love.

I wasn’t going to force him to choose me.

I only wanted him to know me again.

And if, after all that, he still didn’t want me?

At least I would know I had tried.

I switched off the light and climbed into bed.

Tomorrow, I would walk into Moretti Group.

Tomorrow, I would finally stand close enough to the man I had loved for years to discover who he really was.

And perhaps he would discover who I had become.

I smiled into the darkness.

What could possibly go wrong?

As it turned out, I was about to learn that the hardest part of getting close to Reou Moretti wasn’t earning his trust.

It was surviving what happened when he finally started paying attention to me.