The bell jingled again as the wind pushed the door wider.Every head in the café turned.
The man who walked in didn't belong there, not with that kind of suit, not with that kind of presence.Yadiel Keal.
Even the air shifted.The waitress behind the counter straightened her back; the old man sipping tea suddenly smiled, pretending not to stare.
"Good afternoon, sir," someone greeted softly.
"Welcome back, Mr. Keal," another added, voice half-whisper, half-nervous excitement.
Everyone seemed to know him except Amara, who wished she didn't.
She turned away quickly, pretending to wipe down the counter, but her fingers trembled. The tray clattered slightly, and she cursed under her breath.
"You good?" her coworker asked.
"Fine," she muttered. "Just tired."
But she wasn't fine.Her heart thudded too hard against her ribs.
Yadiel's gaze scanned the café, detached at first until it stopped on her.
He blinked once, maybe twice, like he didn't believe it.The same girl from the rain.The one who'd told him off like no one else dared.
"You've got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath, lips curving faintly.
Amara turned, caught him staring, and her jaw tightened. She walked over, forced the fakest smile she could manage.
"Good afternoon. What can I get you?"
"Coffee," he said easily. "Black. No sugar."
"Of course," she replied, professional but cold. "Anything else?"
"Maybe your name," he said.
She didn't even blink. "The receipt doesn't need it."
He chuckled, leaning back slightly.
"You really don't like me, huh?"
"You splashed me with mud this morning and nearly ruined my day. Should I like you?"
"It wasn't intentional."
"Neither was meeting you twice in one day."
Their exchange caught quite attention from nearby customers, soft giggles, murmurs. But Yadiel didn't seem embarrassed.If anything, he looked entertained.
When she turned to walk away, he said quietly,
"I'll remember that attitude, Miss… whatever-your-name-is."
She didn't turn back.
"I hope you forget it," she said, setting the cup on the table a few minutes later.
But even as she moved around the café, taking orders, cleaning tables, she could feel his eyes steady, calm, curious, tracking her every step.
Something about her drew him in, but something about him made her want to disappear.
When he finally stood up to leave, he slipped a bill under the cup and a small note.
She frowned, picked it up, and unfolded it:
"You owe me a dry coat. Y.K."
She almost smiled. Then she tore the paper in half and dumped it in the bin.
Outside, Yadiel watched from the car window as she threw the note away.He laughed under his breath, shaking his head.
"You're not like the others," he murmured.
Then his driver asked softly, "Home, sir?"
Yadiel paused, eyes still on the café door.
"No. Drive around."
The city lights blurred across the windshield as rain began again, soft this time, almost whispering.And somewhere inside that small café, Amara tried to convince herself that her heartbeat was just from the caffeine.
But what neither of them noticed was the woman in the corner of the café, phone raised discreetly as she recorded their exchange from the sharp words to the way Yadiel smiled.
By evening, the clip had already made it online.
"The mysterious café girl who stood up to Yadiel Keal," one post read."He's clearly into her," another caption said with heart emojis."She's brave or stupid. He's engaged."
Comments flooded in some admiring, some jealous, others tearing her apart.A few said she was gorgeous.A few said she was trying to seduce him.And somewhere in the chaos of retweets and reactions, the video hit half a million views before midnight.
Amara had no idea.She was still wiping down the counter, her hair damp from rain, her thoughts heavy.But out there, the world was already whispering her name a name she had worked so hard to hide.