Masuk~FIORELLA~The first two days pass exactly the way I expected them to…..loud, overly cheerful, and unnecessarily dramatic.The moment that official announcement was made, the entire firm shifted into something I barely recognize. People suddenly have more energy than usual, conversations are louder, laughter comes easier, and every break turns into a discussion about outfits, drinks, music, and who’s bringing who.It’s exhausting.I sit at my desk on the second day, flipping through a file with precise, controlled movements when some conversations drift to my ears.“I heard they hired a live band this time.”“No way, really? That’s so extra.”“And the catering……oh my God, it’s from that five-star place! I can't really remember the name.”I roll my eyes without even looking up.Of course it is.Because nothing in this firm can ever be done halfway.Everything has to be exaggerated.Even a simple dinner turns into an event.My pen taps once against the paper bef
~FIORELLA~There are very few things in this world that genuinely unsettle me.Not challenge me, not irritate me, not provoke me.Only a few things unsettle me.I am not easily shaken. So the fact that I’m currently gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary, the quiet hum of my engine filling the silence as streetlights blur past my windshield…is deeply unacceptable.Three weeks.Three weeks of travelling.Three weeks without my laptop.Three weeks with Lucas.The thought alone makes my jaw tighten.It doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense.This isn’t efficient. It isn’t necessary. It isn’t logical.It’s reckless.And I don’t do reckless.My fingers flex slightly against the wheel as I stop at a red light, the glow reflecting faintly against the dashboard while I replay the conversation in the director’s office for what feels like the hundredth time.Every word, every look, every shift in tone, especially his.Lucas.The way he stood t
~LUCAS~“I'm not joking, Fred. I'm really serious. The lady looks exactly like Marcella,” I say.I let out a slow breath. “Same face. Same features. Same… everything.”“You must have imagined the shock I felt when I saw her,” I tell him.“Lucas…”“But,” I cut in, my voice tightening slightly, “completely different personality.”“Define completely,” he probes.I scoff softly. “Cold. Arrogant. Rude. Boring. A control freak. The kind of person who walks into a room and somehow acts like she owns the air in it.”Albert bursts out laughing loud and unapologetic.“Bro,” he says between laughs, “This doesn't sound like Marcella at all.”“Yeah yeah.”“I wonder how you must have felt when you confirmed she isn't Marcella,” he says.“I felt really sad.”“And now you're about to go on a three weeks trip with her lookalike with a very interesting personality,” he laughs mockingly. “You're doomed, bro.”“Shut up,” I tell him.“No, seriously,” he continues, still laughing. “
~LUCAS~There are bad ideas.And then there are catastrophically stupid ideas disguised as “professional development.”This?This is the second one.I don’t say anything for a moment after we’re dismissed. I just sit there, staring at absolutely nothing while Linda’s cheerful voice fades into the background and the director moves on like he hasn’t just detonated a bomb in both our lives.Three weeks of no laptops and traveling with Fiorella.I let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down my face.This is insane.I finally stand, pushing my chair back with a quiet scrape against the floor, and for a second, I consider walking out without saying a word.But then I glance at her.Big mistake.Fiorella is still seated, but she looks… different.Composed, yes.Perfect posture, yes.But I can see it…..the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers are curled just a little too tightly against her arm, like she’s holding herself together by force.She looks like she’s about
~FIORELLA~There are moments in life when you know something is about to go terribly, irreversibly wrong.This is one of those moments.I feel it in the tightening of my chest, in the subtle twitch of my fingers resting against the file in my lap, in the way the air in this office suddenly feels too thick…..like I’m breathing through silk.Work well together.The director’s words echo in my head like a bad joke that refuses to end.I slowly lift my gaze to him, certain I must have misheard.Or perhaps this is some sort of test.Or punishment.Or psychological experiment.Because there is absolutely no logical reason why anyone in their right mind would think pairing me and Lucas together is a good idea.“Excuse me?” I say, my voice smooth, controlled… dangerously calm.Which, for me, is never a good sign.The blonde woman….still annoyingly unidentified…..steps forward with a bright, professional smile that immediately irritates me.“You’ll be representing the firm,
~LUCAS~“Lucas, you got a second?”I look up from my desk to see my new supervisor was half in, half out of my office.Mr. Benson, my supervisor, is a man in his fifties but he looks way younger than his age.“Of course,” I say, standing up quickly.Mr Benson might be nice, but he's one of the most important people in the firm.When he's appointed as my supervisor in family law weeks ago, I knew instantly that I had struck real gold.And for the few weeks, we worked together, I found myself being tongue tied because Mr. Benson is a legend and he knows a lot of things.And it made me respect him more.“The director wants a word,” he tells me.“He does?” I ask cautiously.“You have a meeting,” he continues. “At two with her, myself and George Weller.”I fight back the irritated sigh. If George Weller is there, it means Fiorella is there too.Great!It's been weeks since we've spoken to each other. Fiorella has been so cold, and sarcastic, and I try my best to
~MARCELLA~I don’t go to school the next day.I wake up to sunlight spilling through my curtains, my phone buzzing with notifications I don’t bother checking, and a strange hollowness sitting right in the center of my chest.For the first time in a long time, it isn’t money,
~LUCAS~I shouldn’t be here at the club. But heartbreak made me come here.The incidents that happened earlier replays in my head.I had just finished my shift at the coffee shop, my work apron folded under my arm, the smell of coffee still clinging to my clothes.I was tired,
~MARCELLA~I take one slow step closer to him, letting the bass roll through my body.I stop just close enough for him to smell my perfume—warm, sweet, dangerous.Up close, he’s even better. Sharp jaw. Long lashes. Lips that look like they’ve never learned how to beg. Calm
~TWENTY TWO YEARS LATER~ ~MARCELLA~I weave my way onto the dance floor with Stephanie, my best friend, finding the beat as I sway my hips and lose myself in the groove, erupting loud cheering noises from the hungry crowd whose hungry eyes are ravaging all over my body.I'm







