(Selene's POV)
The first half of the day flew by in a whirlwind of paperwork, instructions, and Nelson's sarcastic jokes.
By noon, my brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and my stomach was sending desperate signals for caffeine.
"There's a refreshments area on the third floor," Nelson had said as I gathered my things. "Good coffee, better company... depending on who's around."
I smiled to myself, grateful for the break.
The third floor was quieter, a little more relaxed, almost like an oasis tucked away from the buzzing hive of Skype's main operations.
There were leather couches arranged around low tables, soft jazz music playing through hidden speakers, and the rich aroma of coffee in the air.
I made my way toward the counter, already envisioning a steaming cup in my hands, when something,someone caught my attention.
A man stood a few feet away, engaged in quiet conversation with a woman in a sleek pencil skirt.
He was tall, his posture commanding without even trying.
He wore a black designer suit that hugged his broad shoulders and lean frame perfectly, the sleeves pushed up slightly to reveal strong forearms.
But what really seized my gaze — what made my breath catch for just a heartbeat — was the mask he wore.
It wasn't a full mask, not like some costume piece.
No, it was elegant, almost minimalist, covering the upper part of his face and leaving his sharp jawline and lips visible.
The mask somehow made him even more magnetic, mysterious.
I couldn't look away.In fact, I was literally walking towards his direction.
This time I was beside him,his Cologne hit me like water splashed on a weary face.
As he shifted to pick up his coffee, the woman beside him said something that made him laugh ,a low and smooth sound that vibrated through the air.
Then, just as he turned slightly to gaze a Little around... his cup hit me and slipped.The spill would ruin my dress if it definitely made contact with the floor.
With a swift move I myself didn't quite notice much,he dangled with the cup until it made contact with the floor.
I stared,not even minding the clash of glass right in front of me.
Dark coffee had spilled down the front of his crisp white shirt, staining the fabric immediately.
The woman gasped, backing away with a flurry of fear.
I didn't even think twice since I was now a few feet away from him,my body moved on its own.
"Ohhh my God, I'm so sorry…here…"
I rushed forward, grabbing a handful of napkins from the counter as I hurried toward him.
He looked down at his ruined shirt with a slight frown, but said nothing.
Was the coffee a cold one?I thought .There wasn't even a groan from the burn it could have caused.
Irrespective I dabbed at the mess lightly, trying not to be too invasive, but the fabric clung tightly to his chest now, molding to the shape of his body beneath.
And what a body it was.
Firm.
Smooth.
Perfectly sculpted muscles pressed beneath the thin, damp fabric ,a sight that made my cheeks burn furiously.
As I dabbed a little lower, my hand accidentally brushed against fortified abs,skin barely covered by the soaked material and I froze.
God.
He was warm.
Solid.
Every nerve ending in my body seemed to fire at once, a spark of something electric and dangerous dancing between us.
"I'm so sorry," I breathed, mortified.
Before I could pull my hand away, he caught my wrist gently.
Not rough. Not angry.
Just... steady.
That touch.
I looked up, heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
Was he upset?
Had I crossed a line?
But instead of anger, his lips curled into the faintest smile.
He took the handkerchief from my fingers so casually, so gracefully and murmured:
"Thank you.My fault it was".
His eyes darted at me behind that mask before focusing on the stain.
His voice? It was simple,deep and smooth;wrapping around me like velvet.
I was still frozen, still locked in that strange, powerful pull that seemed to exist whenever he was near.
Even though we'd just met
Met? I thought.
Did we even meet? It was such a short glimpse of time and care even though I didn't know his name, something about him felt... familiar.
Wrong and right all at once.
He turned back to the woman he'd been speaking to, dabbing at his shirt with the handkerchief casually, as if nothing had happened.
But as he moved, I noticed something else just beneath his shirt sleeve, barely visible, the edge of dark ink.
A tattoo?
I blinked, startled, but didn't have a chance to study it.
The woman said something, and the man nodded politely before moving away, his steps confident and unhurried.
The cleaners came right up to clean up the mess after he dabbed them with some notes.Money notes,I guess.
I stood there like an idiot, napkins still clutched in my hand, my heart hammering loud enough to drown out the soft music sizzling the atmosphere.
Who was he?
"Selene!"
Nelson's voice jerked me out of my trance. He was strolling toward me with a lopsided grin and two coffees in his hands.
"Are you trying to mop the whole building or what?"
I shoved the napkins into the trash and grabbed the coffee he offered, trying to calm my wildly thudding heart.
"Just... being helpful." I mumbled, refusing to meet his amused gaze.
Nelson chuckled under his breath as we walked back toward the elevators.
He probably had noticed I was glancing at someone of high importance.
"You'll get used to seeing strange faces around here," he said. "Skype's filled with important people — clients, sponsors, visiting shareholders.
Some of them... are very good at hiding who they really are."
I clutched my cup a little tighter.
If only he knew just how right he was.
Because something told me the masked man wasn't just any visitor.
And I had a feeling our paths were only just beginning to cross.