The rain was relentless, a downpour that turned the city streets into rivers. Emma’s umbrella flipped inside out for the third time, the wind whipping at her soaked clothes as she hurried along the sidewalk. Her job at the café barely paid the bills, and being late again wasn’t an option. Her manager, Carla, had made it clear: one more tardy shift, and Emma could forget about coming back at all.
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She cursed under her breath, dodging the crowd of pedestrians rushing to get out of the storm. The city always felt different in the rain, colder, less forgiving. Normally, she didn’t mind the chaos. It was predictable in a way—unlike her life. But today, the gray skies mirrored the frustration building inside her, each gust of wind a reminder of how everything felt just out of reach.
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She glanced at her watch—five minutes. She could make it if she ran. Of course, just as she made up her mind to sprint, her umbrella gave out completely, folding like a defeated soldier in the battle against the storm. Water splashed up her legs, and her already damp coat now felt like a leaden weight clinging to her body.
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It couldn’t get worse.
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Then it did.
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She was so focused on saving her phone from getting wet that she didn’t see the man stepping out of the sleek black car parked just ahead. Her shoulder slammed into his chest with the force of someone who had been walking too fast and thinking too little.
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“God, I’m so sor—” Her words died in her throat the second she looked up.
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The man in front of her was like something out of a world she didn’t belong in—tailored suit, shoes so polished they gleamed even in the dim light of the storm, and a presence so commanding that he didn’t just stand in the rain—he seemed to control it. Dark hair, slicked back with precision, and eyes the color of a stormy sky, sharp and calculating, stared down at her with a mixture of amusement and something else—something she couldn’t quite name.
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For a moment, Emma forgot the rain, the cold, and the fact that she was standing in the middle of a sidewalk, blocking the path of a man who was clearly in a league far beyond hers. There was something about him—an intensity that made the rest of the world blur.
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“Careful,” he said, his voice deep, with a faint accent she couldn’t place.
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He wasn’t angry, not exactly, but there was a command in his tone that made her straighten instinctively. Her mind scrambled to form a response, but all she could manage was a breathless, “I—uh, I didn’t see you there.”
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His lips quirked slightly, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I noticed.”
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Her heart pounded, and she cursed herself for being tongue-tied in front of a stranger. She bent down quickly to retrieve her fallen umbrella, but before she could reach it, he had already leaned down and picked it up. He handed it to her, and the brief touch of his hand sent an unexpected jolt through her, like a spark of electricity.
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“Thanks,” she murmured, trying to ignore the way her fingers tingled from the contact.
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“You’re welcome.” His gaze lingered on her a second longer than necessary, as if he was searching for something in her face, something beyond the surface. Then, just as quickly, his expression shifted back to something unreadable, and he turned away, stepping past her without another word.
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Emma stood there, frozen, as the crowd flowed around her. She should have moved, should have run to make up for lost time, but instead, she found herself turning, watching the man as he moved toward the entrance of an exclusive-looking building.
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Who was he? Why did he seem so familiar, yet completely out of reach?
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The world around her seemed to rush back into focus, and she realized with a jolt that she was late—again. Panic surged through her, and she bolted toward the café, her mind still half-occupied with the brief, strange encounter.
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By the time she arrived at the café, drenched and breathless, Carla was already glaring at her from behind the counter. “You’re late again, Emma.”
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“I know, I’m sorry—” Emma started, but Carla cut her off with a dismissive wave.
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“No more excuses. You’re skating on thin ice.”
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Emma nodded, slipping into the back room to hang up her dripping coat. As she tied her apron around her waist, she couldn’t shake the image of the man from her mind. There had been something in his eyes—something unsettling, yet compelling.
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The rest of her shift passed in a blur. The usual customers came and went, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the mysterious stranger. She had no idea who he was, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that their paths would cross again. And when they did, everything would change.
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It was just as she was about to leave the café that night when she glanced through the window and saw it—a familiar black car idling at the curb across the street. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized the man from earlier was sitting in the backseat, his eyes trained on the café. On her.
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Before she could react, the car pulled away, disappearing into the night.
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Emma stood frozen, her mind racing.
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Why was he watching her?
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