She didn't sleep that night.
Even after her shift ended, even after the hot shower and the comforting buzz of her phone, Ayla lay awake, eyes wide, replaying that moment.
The man in black.
The stare that didn't leer, didn't judge—just saw her.
⸻
She didn't even know who he was. No one said his name. But the way the room shifted when he entered… it was like gravity itself had changed.
"Who was that?" she whispered to Rina the next morning in the staff kitchen.
Rina froze, her spoon mid-air. "You saw him?"
Ayla nodded.
Rina set her spoon down slowly. "That's Leon Moreno."
The name meant nothing to Ayla.
Until Rina added, "He owns this place. And half the city's silence."
⸻
Ayla's chest tightened. "He looked at me like… like I wasn't invisible."
"That's not always a good thing," Rina warned. "If he's watching you, you either did something right—or something wrong."
Ayla's hands trembled under the table.
⸻
Later that evening, back in her tiny apartment, Ayla stood at her window, watching the street below. Cars passed, lights flickered, life moved on—but inside, she was stuck.
What had he seen in her? Why did it feel like her life had tilted, and she hadn't even moved?
She wrapped her arms around herself.
She hadn't spoken to him. She didn't know him.
But somehow, Leon Moreno had set something on fire inside her.
And now, she couldn't put it out.