Serena POV

The apartment felt too quiet.

It always did after work, when the noise of meetings and phone calls faded, leaving only the hum of the air conditioner and the distant sound of Lagos traffic.

Serena dropped her bag on the couch and kicked off her heels, sighing as her toes finally touched the soft rug. “Another day survived,” she muttered under her breath.

Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror across the room — perfect hair, flawless makeup, a face that screamed control. But underneath… she knew better.

She poured herself a glass of wine and sank into the couch, the stem of the glass cool between her fingers. For a long moment, she just sat there, staring at nothing.

Then her mind betrayed her.

“You ever get tired of pretending?”

Damien’s voice echoed in her head, calm and annoyingly perceptive. He had said it so casually — like he could see right through her.

She hated that.

No one ever saw through her. Not her colleagues. Not her so-called friends. Certainly not her family. But Damien — her driver — had looked at her like he understood something even she didn’t want to admit.

She took a long sip of wine, shaking her head. “He’s just observant. That’s all.”

But even as she tried to convince herself, she remembered the way he’d smiled earlier — not smug, not mocking. Just… warm. Genuine.

It had been years since someone looked at her that way.

****

Her phone buzzed on the table, snapping her out of thought. A message from Clara, her younger sister.

Hey Serena, just checking in. Liam said he might stop by Lagos next week.

Serena sighed. Liam. The youngest, the most reckless, the one who had nearly gotten himself killed in that accident years ago — the one she was driving during the crash.

Her chest tightened at the memory. The screeching tires. The sound of metal bending. Clara’s scream.

She swallowed hard and typed back:

Tell him to call me first.

She put the phone down and leaned back again. For years, she’d avoided her siblings as much as she could. The accident had fractured more than just their relationship — it had broken her.

She’d spent years building a new life, brick by brick, perfection by perfection — one where no one could remind her of her failures.

And now Damien had somehow cracked the surface with one stupid question.

****

By 8:00 p.m., she’d showered and changed into something comfortable — an oversized white shirt and black shorts. The smell of jasmine filled the air as she moved to the balcony, wine glass in hand, watching the city lights flicker below.

It should have felt peaceful. Instead, it felt… lonely.

Her phone buzzed again. This time it was from Lila, her assistant.

Good evening, ma’am. Mr. Keane requested your presence at the charity gala this Friday. Should I confirm?

Serena’s lips thinned. The last thing she wanted was to attend another gala full of pretentious smiles and shallow conversations.

She started typing No, but then paused.

Maybe she should go.

Anything to get her mind off her thoughts.

Confirm. 8 p.m. I’ll attend.

She hit send.

She didn’t realize until later that she’d have to take Damien with her.

****

Meanwhile, her thoughts wandered again — back to him.

Damien was an odd mix of confidence and quiet mystery. He talked too much for a driver but knew when to stay silent. He teased her, challenged her, and somehow made her want to argue and laugh at the same time.

He wasn’t supposed to matter.

But he did.

And that terrified her.

He’s just a driver, she told herself firmly. You’re not doing this again, Serena. You don’t get attached.

Still, a small smile tugged at her lips. “Annoying man,” she whispered under her breath.

****

The next morning, she woke up earlier than usual — before her alarm. She didn’t want to admit it was because of the faint excitement of seeing Damien again, but her reflection in the mirror said otherwise.

She took extra time with her makeup. Subtle, professional, but softer than usual. She even changed her earrings twice before settling on simple gold hoops.

When she finally stepped outside, Damien was already waiting beside the car, arms crossed, shirt neatly tucked, his usual calm expression in place.

“Good morning, Miss Serena,” he said, voice low and even.

She hated the way her stomach fluttered at the sound. “Morning,” she replied, slipping into the back seat.

Once they started driving, the silence between them was strangely comfortable — different from before. She caught herself studying the back of his neck, the way his shoulders moved as he drove. He looked so at ease, like he belonged anywhere.

She hated that too.

****

Halfway to the office, her phone rang. It was him — Mr. Keane, the board member who had been trying to get her attention for months.

She sighed and answered. “Good morning, Mr. Keane.”

“Serena,” his smooth voice came through the speaker. “About Friday’s gala… I was hoping we could arrive together. For optics, of course.”

“Optics,” she repeated, her tone dry.

“Yes,” he said, chuckling. “You know how these things are. A little public appearance together would strengthen our partnership.”

She glanced up — Damien’s knuckles tightened slightly on the wheel, though his face remained calm.

“I’ll think about it,” she said curtly.

“Excellent. See you soon, darling.”

The call ended.

Damien didn’t say anything. But she could feel his silence — heavy and unreadable.

After a moment, she said, “You can speak, you know.”

He glanced at her in the mirror. “Didn’t think it was my place.”

She arched a brow. “Since when do you care about that?”

He hesitated, then said, “You don’t like him.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

She stared at him for a long moment. “You’re very observant, Damien.”

“Part of the job,” he said lightly. But she caught the faint tension in his jaw.

****

When they reached the office, she stepped out quickly, almost relieved to escape the strange weight between them.

But the whole day, she found herself distracted — her mind wandering to his expression in the car, the hint of protectiveness behind his usual calm.

By the time evening came, she realized something dangerous.

He wasn’t just her driver anymore.

He was becoming someone she noticed.

And noticing Damien was the first step to breaking all the rules she had spent years building.

****

That night, as she undressed and stood before the mirror again, her reflection seemed different — softer, uncertain.

She remembered his voice, steady and warm.

She remembered how it felt when he looked at her — not like a boss, not like a client, but like a woman he was slowly figuring out.

For the first time in years, Serena didn’t know what scared her more — the possibility that she might fall for him, or the fact that a part of her already had.