Bryan's POV
I had only stopped at the court because my driver needed to pick up a file from one of the legal officers handling a case against my company. I did not plan to stay long. I just wanted the document and to head straight back to the office.
But then the car door suddenly opened, and a woman rushed in. She was looking tense, and her face was pale.
"Please, drive," she said quickly, with her voice shaking.
The driver turned back, confused.
"Ma'am, this isn't..."
"Just go!" she shouted.
Her hands trembled as she pressed herself into the seat, not even looking at me. For a moment, I just stared at her. Something about her felt familiar, but I couldn't place it yet.
"Drive," I said quietly to the driver.
He hesitated for a second, then started the engine and pulled out of the court premises.
I turned my eyes back to her. Her head was bent low, her hair covering half her face. I could see her chest moving fast as she tried to breathe properly.
Then it hit me. Her face and her voice were very familiar. It was her.
The same woman who had hit my car in Paris months ago and the one who fainted on the plane back to London.
What were the odds of meeting her three times, in three different places?
I leaned back slowly, my mind going back to that day in Paris.
It was supposed to be a quiet weekend at my grandmother's mansion. She had called me again, complaining that I worked too much and never visited her. I went only to keep her from sending more messages.
She sat in her big chair, with her walking stick beside her.
"Bryan Hale," she said, calling my full name the way she always did.
"You're thirty-two and still have no wife. Do you think money will keep you warm when you're old?"
I rubbed my temples.
"Grandma, please don't start."
She kept talking anyway.
"All the girls you bring are the same. Pretty, but empty. No sense, no class, and no future. You need a woman who will keep you grounded."
I stood up. "I'm not interested in marriage."
She laughed bitterly.
"That's why your life feels cold."
Her words got to me more than I wanted to admit. I left the house angry, got into my car, and drove off without direction.
I was still rushing to the airport when a car hit me from behind.
I got down, frowning, ready to yell. But the woman who stepped out looked so scared and flustered that I froze.
She didn't even look at my face. She just bowed quickly.
"I'm sorry, sir! I'm so sorry!"
Before I could even say a word, she jumped back into her small blue car and drove off.
I didn't chase her. I just stood there, confused and watching her car disappear.
Something about her lingered in my head for days, but I pushed it aside. I had no reason to remember a stranger.
Or so I thought until the next time I saw her.
It was on my flight back to the UK. I had boarded late due to a delay, and to make matters worse, my seat in first class had been mistakenly occupied. I had to settle for a seat in business class, and I was angry the whole time.
Mid-flight, I got up to use the restroom, and when I tried to open the door, it was locked. After knocking twice, I heard a faint sound, like someone calling. I forced the door open, and there she was again.
It was the same woman. But this time, she was stuck in the toilet and fell unconscious in my hands.
I called the hostess quickly, and we helped her back to her seat. I didn't say a word after that, but I kept watching her quietly.
I didn't even know her name, yet somehow, I couldn't forget her face.
Now here she was again, sitting beside me in my car without a reason.
She still didn't look at me. Her eyes stayed glued to the window with her hand clutching her purse tightly.
When we reached the main road, the driver slowed down and looked at me through the mirror.
"Sir, should I keep going?" he asked.
"Yes," I said without thinking.
I could feel her glance at me for the first time; it was quick and nervous. She probably thought I was going to throw her out, but I didn't.
For some reason, I wanted to know why she was running.
We drove in silence for almost fifteen minutes before she suddenly said, "You can stop here."
The driver slowed down near the next corner, and before the car had even fully stopped, she opened the door and got out quickly.
She didn't look back. She just ran across the road and disappeared into the crowd.
I stared through the window until she was gone. I had no idea why, but my chest felt tight watching her leave.
"Let's go," I said quietly.
The driver nodded and turned the car back toward the company.
When I entered my office, my secretary rushed to me with files in her hand.
"Sir, the lawsuit from Silverline Holdings just came in," she said.
"They claim one of our tech branches breached their contract terms."
"Leave it," I said, taking the folder from her.
After she left, I sat down and opened the file. It was for the Silverline Holdings.
I had heard of them before. It was a small but growing company that was trying too hard to compete with us.
As I flipped through the pages, I stopped when I saw a printed document titled 'List of Former Employees – Confidential.'
There were dozens of names, each accompanied by a small picture. I scrolled through, reading absently, until one name made my hand freeze.
Alice Morgan, and beside the name was her picture.
The funniest part is that it was the same face I had just seen in my car.
For a few seconds, I didn't even breathe. I just stared at the name and the photo, feeling something heavy drop inside my chest.
Alice Morgan… so that was her name.
My mind went back to everything—to the car accident, the airplane, and the courtroom. None of it could be a coincidence.
Had she been spying on me?
Was she sent to get close to me all along?
No. It couldn't be. But the more I looked at the file, the more everything started to make sense.
The rival company is suing us, and it has a mysterious "former insider." Also, the strange way she kept appearing in my life.
I leaned back on my chair, rubbing my forehead. My heart was pounding hard, but my thoughts were louder.
This was not a coincidence.
This woman, Alice Morgan, was connected to my company's enemy. And she had just entered my car like she knew me.
I stood up slowly, pacing to the window.
I had spent years fighting rivals, partners, and corrupt investors. But this… this was different.
I could feel it in my gut.
I looked back at the file again and whispered to myself,
"So, Alice Morgan… what game are you playing?"
My phone rang just then. It was my head of security.
"Sir," he said, his voice tense, "we just found out Silverline's next move. They're trying to freeze your accounts through a court injunction."
My jaw clenched.
"Stop them," I said. "Whatever it takes."
When I hung up, I looked at her picture one last time.
I closed the file and whispered again, this time with a small, dark smile.
"We'll see how far you can go, Alice Morgan."