Café Rue

“The Mr. Blackwood??!” Mila shrieked, blinking at me.

“This bastard's even bigger than father!, he's been trying to get into his good books for years!"

She stared at the folder like it might bite her.

Café Rue hummed around us, spoons clinking, laughter rising and falling,

This was our little spot, me and my best friend Mila, ever since college, we've always come here to "cool off" despite our differences in social status, she's always been by my side, and we've grown so close.

I nodded once. “Yes Mila, Adrian Blackwood.”

Mila let out a slow breath. “Okay. Wow. That’s… wow.”

She leaned back against the plush seat, crossed her arms, then leaned forward again like she physically couldn’t stay still. “I leave you alone for one interview and you come back engaged to a billionaire sociopath?”

“I’m not engaged.”

“Marriage contract,” she corrected. “Which is as a matter of fact, worse.”

"I didn't sign it though"

We’d planned this meetup before my interview celebration coffee if it went well, consolation pastries if it didn’t. Mila had insisted, as always. She’d texted me that morning with her usual confidence, already certain I’d succeed.

Now she studied me like I was standing on a fault line.

“How did this even happen?” she demanded.

I stared into my cappuccino, watching the foam settle. “Elevator. Interview. Psychological warfare.”

She snorted despite herself.

“Elevator?.” Her eyebrows raised in confusion.

"I called him a pretty boy" I bit my tongue and looked down in embarrassment.

Her eyes widened in amusement, as she burst out laughing at me. "you can't make this up!", she filled in, in between laughs

Her eyes were red at this point, I could see a tear streaming down her face, "You, Elera, calling the richest and most influential man in our City "pretty boy"

"It's not funnyyy", I hit her legs from under the table in embarrassment, her laughing was already earning us stares from across the room, extra attention I didn't need. I had too much on my plate already.

Mila finally caught her breath, She flipped open the folder, scanning through the lines. Her expression shifted with each paragraph, sarcasm fading into disbelief, disbelief into something dangerously close to fear.

“One year,” she muttered. “Public appearances. No romance required, "wow, how generous.”

I winced, rolling my eyes.

“He knows about my mom.”

“And my rent.”

Mila looked up at me with disbelief in her eyes

"Did he stalk you?"

I shook my head no "I doubt it, he seemed totally normal in the elevator"

She slammed the folder shut. “That’s not coincidence, Elara. That’s surveillance.”

her eyes dramatically widened in realization "He must've been watching you"

My breathing became shallow, my head felt light, as memories of the past week flooded my mind, my routines, the job hunting, my visits to the hospital, was it all- monitored?, was I being watched by this man?

A waiter appeared, smiling politely. Mila ordered without looking at the menu, two cappuccinos, pastries, sparkling water, then waved him away with a distracted flick of her hand.

"But why?, I thought out loud, "why me, I'm of no relevance, hell, I don't even have a job, he probably has beautiful women lining up to throw themselves on his bed, so why?"

“My dad warned me about Blackwood once,” She looked serious, “He said if Adrian ever notices you, it’s because you’re useful.”

I stiffened. “Useful how?”

She met my eyes. “That’s the terrifying part. You don’t find out until it’s too late.”

I laughed weakly. “You’re really selling this.”

“I’m trying to keep you from walking into a gilded cage,” she said. Then her tone softened. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because you would’ve offered to fix it.”

“And?”

“And I wouldn’t take it.”

Mila sighed, rubbing her forehead. “You’re still like this.”

“Like what?”

“Too proud for your own good.”

She wasn’t wrong.

She reached across the table, lowering her voice. “Elara, I can talk to my dad. "We can get you out of here, out of his sight, he can arrange something really good for you.” She looked pleading at this point

I shook my head immediately. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I need to survive on my own terms.”

She stared at me for a long moment, then leaned back. “You always say that like survival is something you negotiate with.”

I looked down at the folder again. “He gave me until tomorrow.”

Mila’s jaw tightened. “Of course he did.”

She tapped her fingers against the table, already thinking three steps ahead. “If you say yes, you don’t do it blind. You read everything, document everything, and if you say no, you come to me-.”

“I won’t.”

“You say that now.”

She hesitated, then added quietly, “He has an assistant. Rowan Cole. If anyone knows how Blackwood really operates, it’s him.”

I looked up. “You know his assistant?”

“Know of him,” she corrected. “He’s survived longer than anyone else. That alone makes him interesting.”

She smiled faintly, something curious flickering in her eyes. " I heard he's hot too", She smirked “And dangerous in his own way.”

I chuckled deeply, for the first time since I got here

"You nasty girll" I teased.

She stuck out her tongue

"Oh come onn, I heard he's hot"

I closed the folder and slid it back into my bag. “So what do you think I should do?”

Mila studied me, really studied me, then reached for her coffee. “I think you’re already halfway in.”

The words settled heavy in my chest.

We’d planned this meeting to celebrate.

Instead, we sat there surrounded by sugar and sunlight, discussing contracts that felt more like traps.

"What will you do Elera?" She shot my own question back at me.

"I.. I-, I have to go Mila"

Her concerned eyes followed me as I packed my bag and finished my drink.

"I need to think, to clear my head, I'll talk to you later, love you" I said, rushing out before she could respond to me properly.

---

The apartment was dim when I got home, evening light slipping through the blinds like it didn’t want to stay. I dropped my bag by the door and headed straight for the bathroom, stripping off the day along with my clothes. The bathwater steamed as I sank into it, heat blooming over my skin, forcing my thoughts to slow. I ate what I had left over from the morning, nothing special, just enough to quiet the ache in my stomach, but not nearly enough to drown out Mr. Blackwoods words or the weight of the folder waiting on my table.

I grabbed my jacket and stepped back outside. The park a few blocks away from my apartment had died down for the evening, just leaves rustling from the bushes and the hum of the cool evening breeze, it was what I wanted to be— at peace, it was definitely peaceful, I came here anything I was stressed or had something on my mind, which was a lot these days, especially today.

I sat on the cool swing, the carrier a little too small for me, as I slowly started swinging on it, wishing my problems would swing away so easily away from me as I did.

Beep. beep

I almost ripped my head open, so much for peace, I couldn't even get a few minutes of it before someone ruined it

"Whose this?" I snapped, not caring if my annoyance was apparent at this point

"Good evening ma'am, this is Rowan Cole speaking"...