Prologue
Four months into probation. Two months before everything changes.
Loreign Grace wasn’t exactly subtle. Or conventional. Most people just called her Lori. She moved through the office like a rapid sketch—quick, deliberate, with a quiet kind of fire in her eyes. Her desk looked like a Pinterest board collided with a tech startup: pastel pens, tiny Popmarts, folders named with chaos. Somehow, it worked.
She wasn’t clumsy. Just fast-moving, fast-thinking, and usually three ideas ahead of the conversation.
At twenty-two, Lori was the youngest on the creative team and the only woman. A fresh graduate on scholarship, four months into her first real job, four months into probation. Two months left to prove herself.That meant staying. That meant being seen. That meant every overnight, every unspoken pressure, every sacrifice she made for a future that wasn’t just hers—for once—might actually be worth it.
Her team was mostly seasoned 3D designers. Brilliant, quiet, logical types who spoke in lighting passes and render queues. Lori didn’t always fit in. But she’d learned to adapt.
Today, she wore a cropped yellow cardigan over a white pleated skirt, rainbow socks tucked into too-white sneakers. Cute. Maybe chaotic. But intentional.
She was halfway through her second chocolate drink because coffee was for people who’d given up—lost in a tangle of wireframes and color swatches when the office door opened with a sharp clack.
Mae leaned in dramatically, like a gossiping stage actor.
“You forgot there’s a thing today, didn’t you?”
Mae, short for Maeson, was her closest work friend. Towering, perpetually under-caffeinated, and one loud sigh away from quitting, he tackled layout design with the same chaotic energy he used to spread rumors.
“What thing?” Lori asked, eyes still on her screen.
Mae raised a brow. “UK team. Visitors. Arcade rebrand kickoff. Ringing any bells, little intern spirit?”
Lori froze, stylus midair. “Oh. That’s today?”
Before Mae could answer, a new set of voices drifted in cheerful, clipped, the kind of polite that came from people who led quietly but judged loudly.
Ms. Ignacio entered first, flanked by three unfamiliar people.
Mae muttered, “Great. Time to smile at people who’ll pretend to love our designs before tearing them apart in a conference call next week. Heard one of the UK bosses is picky as hell.”
“Quick heads-up,” Ms. Ignacio called out.
“These are some of our leads and operations managers from the UK team. They’ll be working closely with us on the arcade launch project.”
There were polite nods. Waves. Lori sat up straighter, smoothing her skirt even though it made no difference.
One guy stood out.Not because he tried to. But because he didn’t.
Pressed fancy button down shirt paired with black slacks. Too-clean sneakers. Calm, unreadable eyes. He looked young. Too young to be anyone’s manager. More like someone who wandered in from IT by mistake and somehow stayed.He stood slightly behind the others, scanning the room like someone joining a game he knew all the rules to but never quite played himself.
“Is that one of the tech guys?” Lori whispered.
“No clue,” Mae muttered. “He doesn’t look like a suit.”
“He looks like he breaks machines for a living.”
Right then, the guy stepped forward like he heard her.
“Hi,” he said, voice low and smooth, laced with a British accent.
“I’m Caden. I, uh, break machines for a living. Or try not to.”
He smiled. Half-sheepish, half-aware. It wasn’t charming in the obvious way. Just... disarming. A few nearby designers actually sat up straighter.
“Kidding. Mostly,” he added.
“I handle arcade operations. Making sure things blink when they should... and don’t catch fire when they shouldn’t.”
Lori blinked. Okay. That was... oddly specific.
There wasn’t a full round of introductions. Caden shook a few hands, exchanged nods with senior staff, and spoke briefly with the lead designer. He didn’t try to impress anyone but somehow, that made him more noticeable.
And then he passed by her desk.
“Hey,” he said, voice casual. A polite nod, like he already knew who she was.
Lori startled. “Hi.”
Too soft. A second too late. Her voice caught, like her lungs forgot what to do.
He looked her right in the eyes. His smile curved just a little.
Something fluttered. A jolt, like her instincts clocked something before her heart could name it.
Then he was gone, pulled aside by a guy with glasses and an anxious-looking tablet.
“Who is that?” Lori whispered.
Mae leaned in. “Caden. Ops manager from the UK site, maybe. Lowkey. But rumor is he’s sharp. One of those golden boys who fix problems no one can name.”
Lori stared at her screen, suddenly unsure what she’d even been working on. “He really does break machines.”
“With an accent,” Mae added.
She tried to shake it off. Really, she did. But something about his quiet presence stuck. The way he moved through chaos like it didn’t touch him. The odd little joke. The crooked smile that felt like a test.
Their interaction was short, forgettable. But it left her weirdly unsettled and for some reason, it stuck.
Lori didn’t usually care about first impressions.
This one just felt... different. Like it meant more than it should.
