The Secret heiress

A silhouette suddenly detached from the crowd, cutting Gabrielle's trajectory when she was advancing a quick step towards the exit. She stopped net, surprised by the interruption, her heart leaping under the effect of the shock. The man facing her was not an ordinary guest. His piercing gaze clung to his with an almost intrusive intensity, as if he were surveying truths that she herself was not yet ready to face.

- Are you already going?

Her voice was calm, but she bore this tiny nuance of authority that left an immediate impression. Gabrielle took a second to assess the situation. The event was still in full swing around them, a constant murmur of cozy conversations, sections of champagne which were on crystal glasses. She had nothing to do here. Too much appearances, too many pretenses, too much risks. However, she was not supposed to draw attention, even less that of this man whose presence seemed to reordinate space around him.

She displayed a polished, calculated smile, and mentally sought an acceptable excuse.

- I have already spent enough time here, she replied, avoiding giving too much information.

He did not smile, but a slight fold appeared at the corner of his mouth, as if he guessed his thoughts before she even expressed them.

- You seem to be someone who doesn't like worldly.

Gabrielle Haussa imperceptibly an eyebrow.

- And are you the type to analyze strangers in a single sentence?

This time, a fleeting smile crossed his face. Not quite amused, but intrigued enough not to let her escape.

- My name is Nathan.

He did not specify his last name, which, paradoxically, confirmed what she already suspected: he did not need to do so. Those who knew, knew. And she knew. Nathan Caldwell. Dreaded businessman, accomplished strategist, and above all, someone she had not planned at all to meet this evening.

His gaze lingered a fraction of a second on him. Bad idea. This kind of detail certainly did not escape him.

- Gabrielle.

She voluntarily omitted her own surname. A usual precaution, a survival reflex.

- A pleasure, he says, without appearing surprised by his lack of information.

There was a brief silence, but not of those who make you uncomfortable. Rather a suspended moment, like a thin layer of ice under their feet, ready to give in under the slightest poorly calculated movement.

Gabrielle forced herself to give her eyes to her watch.

- I have a commitment elsewhere.

She did not expect an answer and moved to a fluid step, sliding between the guests before he could add anything.

She did not turn around.

But she still felt her look fixed on her.

***

The night air struck her in the face as she finally came out of the building, relaxing the tension accumulated in a controlled inspiration. She expected an evening without complications. Take action, smile on good people, then disappear before anyone asks too many questions.

So why was his heart still beating too fast?

She shouldn't have crossed paths.

Nathan Caldwell represented exactly what she had avoided for years: attention.

A man like him was not interested in strangers. He didn't have time for coincidences.

Which meant one thing: he noticed it for a very specific reason.

And that was dangerous.

***

The next morning, a feeling of concern persisted as she traveled the newspapers, unconsciously looking for her own name in the worldly columns. Nothing. No photos of her, no articles on her presence at the event. She had melted in the mass, as usual.

She put the cup of coffee she held up and allowed herself to turn her eyes for a second. She had to stop thinking about it.

A notification noise on his phone interrupted his fleeting appeasement. A message.

One word.

**Lunch ?**

No signature, but she didn't need it.

His breath blocked for a moment.

He wasted no time.

And now ?

Gabrielle's phone almost slipped her fingers. His heart, already a little too agitated since the day before, accelerated a notch.

A message. Only one proposal.

**Lunch ?**

She stared at the screen, looking for a logical reason for what she saw. An error? A bad number? No. Nathan Caldwell was not the type to send a message by accident.

She hesitated for a second too much before turning off her phone and putting it in front of the table. As if to ignore the message could erase the invitation, erase what had happened last night.

Except that it was impossible.

The feeling of her gaze on her the day before was still too present, a subtle but insistent warmth, a gravitational force that did not let it go. He had crossed his path and, against all logic, he had decided that he wanted to see her again.

She couldn't afford it.

Her name, her identity, all that she tried to keep secret ... It would be enough for everything to collapse.

She inspired deeply and grabbed her phone with a sudden gesture. A simple, cold, efficient answer.

** I am busy. **

Sent.

She put the device on the side, forcing herself to focus on something else. It was nothing. A message, a refusal, end of history.

But part of her already knew that he would not stop there.

***

The following days were an ordeal.

Gabrielle had expected him to abandon. After all, women of her world - his own, not his - were surely fighting to draw his attention. But he didn't send him any other message. No insistence, no recovery.

Nothing.

It should have relieved her. However, deep down, something annoying refused to be silent.

She had pushed him back. He was supposed to disappear from his mind. So why may he just decided that she was not worth it left her bitter taste?

She mentally treated her idiot and shook her head. She didn't need complications. Certainly not those he represented.

But she understood her error three days later.

***

She hadn't noticed her presence right away.

The event was more limited than the last time, a private reception where only the most influential names were on the guest list. Gabrielle was not supposed to be there. His business served as a cover, a minimal role that allowed him to stay in the shadows.

But she felt a thrill crossing it before even seeing it.

Nathan.

Standing, a few meters from her, chatting with a man of whom she only vaguely knew the name.

He was here.

She hugged her fingers around her cut of champagne, feeling an electric current spread in her veins. It was not supposed to arrive.

She hadn't done anything to get her attention. So why ...

And then he turned his head.

Her gaze found her immediately.

A second stop. Then, slowly, a smile touched his lips.

Gabrielle, frozen, felt the air miss.

***

She needed to leave.

She sketched a movement, looking for a discreet outcome. But she already knew it was too late.

A shadow appeared to his left.

- You ended up finding a free moment, it looks like.

His voice was low, slightly amused.

Gabrielle hugged her jaw and looked up at him. Up close, it was even worse. Too much control in his gaze, too much confidence in the way he stood before her.

- Do you follow me?

He did not disassemble.

- I didn't know you would be there.

She haussed an eyebrow, skeptical.

- Really ?

He tied his head slightly, as if he evaluated his reactions.

- No.

She had a brief laugh, without joy.

- So you came here knowing that I would be there.

- Let's say that I came without too much expectations.

His gaze clung to his, more intense this time.

- But I am not disappointed.

Unpleasant heat spread in his belly.

- You waste your time, she whispered, aware of the murmur of conversations around them, the proximity of the world she was trying to avoid.

- I doubt it.

His voice was calm, but there was no doubt in his tone.

She should have left. Cut this discussion short before he became dangerous than he was already.

But she didn't move.

And he lives it.

His smile is imperceptibly growing.

- Dinner ?

She sighed.

- You never let go of the business, right?

- Only when something is worth it.

His heart missed a beat.

She was losing control.

- You don't know anything about me.

- Not yet.

A tense silence settled between them.

She could leave now. Turn her back on her, disappear as she had always done.

But instead, she replied even before she could hold back.

- Alright.

He didn't let anything appear, but she guessed the glow satisfied in her gaze.

- This evening.

- A reasonable hour.

A slight smile.

- I will surprise you.

And he disappeared in the crowd, leaving her alone with the certainty that she had just made a mistake.

A terrible error.