Chapter 1 - The Encounter
Lina stared at herself in the mirror. A blurry image. Tired. Tense.Her eyes stayed locked on a face that didn’t quite feel like hers anymore. She didn’t have a minute to waste. No time to think, no time to doubt. Too much to handle. A future to build. Dreams hanging on somewhere out of reach.
But that dull voice inside her head... it wouldn’t let go. A small voice whispering fears. Fears she didn’t want to face.
The silence stretched, heavy.
Lina took a deep breath, trying to steady her thoughts, not to get overwhelmed.
Her phone vibrated. She jumped. The sound cut through the air, sharp and sudden.
Now, she knew.
How had she ended up here?
Eyes closed, Lina couldn’t help but replay it all. Everything that had happened since the beginning.
Dusk was slowly settling over the city, wrapping the streets in a soft golden light. Inside the Hilton Hotel, the air buzzed with a kind of elegant energy. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow, bouncing off gold-toned walls and carefully set tables. Laughter and animated chatter blended with the gentle sound of a string quartet.
Lina Cap tugged at her apron without thinking. Five foot three. A few extra curves she always meant to lose… but never did. Her life was far from a fairy tale, but she was content. No savings, no big dreams. Just a craving to enjoy life while she could.
Her biggest win? The tiny studio she’d just bought. Cozy, charming… on the surface. Because behind the cute façade, she’d already discovered the reality of being a homeowner: crumbling walls, a plumbing system on its last legs... So yeah, any little bonus was more than welcome.
A voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
“Did you see what they’re serving?”
Éloïse—flawless, as usual. Her long red hair framed her delicate features. Lina, meanwhile, was in a constant war with her wild brown curls. Not a big deal, but still—some days it stung a little.
Éloïse had that effortless confidence Lina always wished she had. She never seemed to hesitate. Smart, focused—she was the grounded one.
She’d done her time in crappy temp jobs too, but this one was different: she’d just landed a spot at a communications agency. The paycheck wasn’t great, but it was a foot in the door to the world she wanted.
Only catch. The agency was about to move to Portugal in a few weeks.
She’d agreed to the move without a second thought. For Éloïse, it was an opportunity—distance didn’t matter. After all, she’d always lived with her parents. This challenge felt like freedom.
For Lina, it was a whole different story. Just thinking about Éloïse being far away made her chest tighten, but she pushed it aside. The last thing she wanted was to ruin her friend’s excitement.
“I already tasted some of the stuff in the kitchen. Nothing special.”
Éloïse raised an eyebrow, half amused, half serious.
“Come on, Linou. Don’t start. Remember why we’re here.”
Lina gave a quick nod and pulled herself back into the moment. Tonight, the floor manager—some guy named Mr. Hocq—was being extra picky. Every little detail mattered.
A politician was deep in conversation with a famous actress, while some finance big shot burst out laughing at a joke from another guest. Lina couldn’t help feeling a little starstruck—even if part of her stayed detached from it all.
The party was in full swing when she finally allowed herself a break. Quietly, she slipped out the back of the hotel. The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the stuffy buzz inside.
She took a long breath, savoring the moment—even as her body reminded her her period was just around the corner.
Lina stared at the ground without really seeing it, lost in thought. Her birthday had just passed, but it was hard to feel excited about it. Twenty-nine. The age when, supposedly, life starts to fall into place.
Apparently, not for everyone: temp gigs as a waitress, a single life sinking in… At this rate, Lina was thinking about adopting a cat, just to complete the cliché. A hairless cat, ugly as hell, who’d also be stuck in that apartment, jonesing just like her.
Bits and pieces of the night came back to her: laughter, a cake, and—no, not just one—more like ten drinks too many. And that terrible off-key “Happy Birthday.” She sighed.
“Twenty-nine, Lina. Time to grow up already.”
Her mother’s voice rang loud in her head—fresh from their last phone call, still echoing.
Always ready to remind her that even with a decent degree, you could still end up doing absolutely nothing with your life. And clearly, to her mother, Lina was living proof of that. A walking failure.
Happy birthday, sweetheart!
She clenched her jaw. Not the time to think about that.
To shut the voice up, she pulled out her phone and started scrolling.
Leaning against one of the service doors, she thumbed through her feed, cigarette in the other hand. Workout videos kept popping up. Getting back into fitness—that was something, right? Well… mentally, at least. She had signed up for the gym. That had to count for something.
Now all that was left was actually walking through the door.
In the meantime, watching workouts—or rather, the guys doing them—was a decent first step.
God, I really wanna drop these tablets... I’m so horny, damn it!
A sudden movement caught her eye.
A figure emerged from the shadows. Another waiter. Tall, athletic... wearing sweatpants. Totally off-brand for this fancy gala. He was walking fast toward the door, giving Lina a better look—messy black hair, breathing hard, like he’d just been running.
For once, I’m not the last one. Not bad-looking either...
She exhaled a puff of smoke, amused, and called out casually:
“You’re seriously late. Use the other door, or Hocq’s gonna rip you a new one.”
She nodded toward the second service entrance with her chin.
But the guy kept coming, not slowing down, like he hadn’t even heard her. No glance, no reaction. Just... total indifference.
A flicker of irritation rose in Lina’s chest.
As he reached her, she snapped, sharp:
“Dude, are you seriously dripping like that? You know you stink, right? And you actually think those rich pricks are gonna let you serve them?”
He stopped dead. A beat. Like he was running her sentence through some kind of internal filter. Then he turned toward her — slow, precise. His stare hit her hard. Direct. Unblinking. But not angry. He was sizing her up. Like an equation.
Lina instinctively stepped back. That wasn’t the look of some guy getting offended. It was… something else. Cold. Clinical.
“I don’t believe that’s accurate,” he said, calm as ever.
He paused.
“Body odor is caused by bacterial breakdown of apocrine sweat.”
Wait, what?
His eyes flicked down to the cigarette between her fingers.
“Tobacco smoke, however, contains volatile compounds — tar, ammonia, nicotine — all of which cling to fabric. Odds are, that’s what you’re smelling.”
He straightened, voice still perfectly steady.
“Also, I’m not a waiter.”
His tone was flat. Measured. Almost too calm.
She frowned.
What a werdo!
Then what are you?
Santa Claus?
No answer. Just silence. A bit too long. Then he looked away and kept walking, like she no longer existed.
Is he serious right now?
Lina clenched her fists.
“I was actually trying to help, asshole!”
He slowed down—barely—then kept going, disappearing inside the building.
Lina crushed her cigarette with a sharp twist and sighed in frustration.
Idiot.
Back inside the reception hall, Lina tried to shake off the interaction. The guy had pissed her off, but she forced herself to focus. Tray in hand, she moved through the crowd, sneaking in quick comments to Éloïse whenever they crossed paths.
“Oh, by the way, babe—someone’s actually outdoing me tonight,” she said with a sly smile.
“What do you mean?” Éloïse asked, grabbing empty glasses.
“There’s another guy in joggers who just showed up.”
She paused, letting it land, then added:
“The guy shows up looking like a mess, three hours late, all chill. I told him to avoid Hocq and he completely blew me off.”
Éloïse shook her head, amused.
“Too bad for him. If he gets kicked out, that’s on him.”
“Totally!” Lina said, maybe a little too eagerly. She would’ve loved to see that.
The party was in full swing. Lina kept making rounds with her tray, the usual fake smile plastered on her face. But her mind was elsewhere.
He really wasn’t bad-looking…
She bit her lip, annoyed. The guy was arrogant as hell, with that smug attitude and that look… That look.
She shook her head.
Get over it.
The buzz of the evening didn’t slow down—servers flowing in and out, guests chatting in carefully controlled tones—until a sudden hush swept across the room, like a ripple of excitement. Bit by bit, the murmurs faded, and every head turned toward the stage.
Busy with her tray, Lina still picked up on the shift in energy and subtly looked over. Onstage, a stunning woman held a microphone. With poised confidence, she introduced the guest of honor.
And then He walked in.
A man, early thirties, stepped onto the stage with a closed-off expression. His eyes were locked in place—too locked—as if he was scanning everything without really seeing anyone. He didn’t smile.
His black suit was perfect, giving him a certain stature, but that wasn’t what stood out first. It was the stillness. That cold, quiet intensity that commanded silence without even trying. No extra gestures, no effort to charm or assert dominance. Just a heavy, tightly contained presence.
Lina stared at him for a moment. He didn’t have the usual charisma of guys who know how to charm, but something else. A strange, raw authority. It was impossible to look away. And let’s be honest: he was handsome. Really handsome. But in a way that seemed to go unnoticed by him, as if it didn’t matter.
A jolt shot through her mind. Her heart skipped a beat. Her eyes widened.
“It’s him,” Lina whispered, her voice trembling.
“Him who?” Éloïse asked, intrigued.
Lina struggled to pull her gaze away from the stage.
“The guy in the tracksuit,” she muttered, stunned.
Éloïse stared at her, incredulous.
“No, that’s Daniel Beresford.”
Lina shrugged, still lost. Éloïse suddenly seemed to make the connection that Lina hadn’t yet grasped.
“He’s the CEO of R.B.H!” Éloïse added, her tone incredulous, as if Lina had missed the obvious.
Lina’s eyes went wide. Even though she didn’t know exactly who he was, that name... that name sounded like an alarm ringing in her head.
“No...” she murmured, a chill settling in her stomach. “Why did I have to open my big mouth again?!"
She still couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, the man she’d just insulted without even knowing who he was.
“Damn, it’s really him...”
Her heart raced, pounding in her chest as he continued speaking under the watchful eyes of the guests. Lina felt like she could vanish into a hole.
Éloïse, watching Lina’s panic, studied her for a moment, eyebrows furrowed.
“Wait, you talked to him? And... what exactly did you say to end up like this?” Éloïse asked, still incredulous.
Lina chewed on her cheek, completely lost, her mind spinning. She would have given anything to turn back time and erase that moment. But she lied.
“It’s nothing, don’t worry.”
Her voice betrayed the truth. Éloïse studied her, not believing a word, and insisted with her gaze.
Lina sighed, her eyes desperately searching the floor, replaying the exchange in her head.
“I just told him he stank. And... I might have called him an... asshole,” she admitted, horrified, covering her face with her hands.
“WHAT?!” Éloïse exclaimed. “You said what? You ‘just’ told him he stinks and you ‘kind of’ called him an asshole?”
Éloïse’s eyes went wide, stunned. She stared at Lina, but her face stayed expressionless. However, her gaze spoke volumes about the seriousness of the situation.
“Ask to go into the kitchen,” Éloïse suggested, her tone a mix of concern and a hint of firmness. “That way, you won’t risk running into him again.”
Lina nodded. It was the best solution; she was convinced of that. She hurried toward the kitchen, hoping to hide out there for the rest of the night.
After an hour chatting with Noé, a pastry chef absorbed in finishing his sweet creations for the evening, Lina managed to relax. She almost forgot about her embarrassing encounter with Daniel Beresford.
The warmth of the kitchen and the quiet bustle of the other employees made the night feel almost ordinary. She was waiting for her shift to end so she could finally leave with Éloïse.
Then, a whisper caught her attention. Quiet voices, hidden among the clatter of utensils.
“Did you see? Daniel Beresford is in the kitchen thanking everyone.”
A coworker passed by, his glance fleeting.
Lina froze.
No. She hoped she had misheard. But when she looked up, she saw him: Daniel Beresford, standing at the kitchen entrance, his back to her, casually chatting with Mr. Hocq. Her heart skipped a beat.
“No, not now...” she muttered, sliding toward the back of the room, avoiding his gaze.
But it was too late.
In a clumsy move, the tray slipped from her hands.
A loud metallic crash echoed through the kitchen. And it didn’t stop there. The object bounced once. Then a second time. A third. As if it was determined to make a complete tour of her shame.
Each bounce drew more and more eyes toward her.
Silence. All eyes on her.
Blushing crimson, Lina froze, standing in the middle of the shards of attention. She felt like a living fire alarm.
Can I die now?
But one single glance – that glance – petrified her. More than the noise. She didn’t move. Trapped.
She locked eyes with Daniel.
A silent exchange. A suspended moment.
He stared at her again, with that same look. Neither hostile, nor reassuring, just... attentive. A look that cut through her, laying her bare.
Then he turned away from her, shifting his gaze toward Monsieur Hocq.
Lina, on the other hand, remained frozen, her hands trembling, her mind spinning with a thousand conflicting thoughts.
She tried to regain her composure, repeating to herself that the night was finally winding down, and that she would never see him again in her life.
