Chapter 1 Some Loves Begin Quietly-Theirs Didn't

Lina Adeyemi had always believed that love announced itself gently.

In soft smiles held a second too long.

In hands brushing by accident.

In moments so quiet they could be mistaken for nothing at all.

That belief shattered the moment she walked into the foyer of Harrington House.

The place buzzed with restrained elegance-polished marble floors reflecting chandeliers that glowed like captured stars, voices layered over one another in polite laughter, the scent of expensive perfume and freshly poured champagne clinging to the air. Everything about the charity gala screamed control, poise, and careful appearances.

Lina clutched her clutch tighter, already wishing she were anywhere else.

She didn't belong in rooms like this. She never had.

Her black gown fit her perfectly-too perfectly, if she was honest. The kind of dress that made people look twice, then linger. Satin hugged her waist, flowed down her hips, and pooled softly at her feet. Her hair was pulled back into a low bun, elegant but simple. She'd kept her makeup minimal, though her eyes betrayed her nerves, dark and alert, scanning the room as if searching for an escape route.

"Relax," her friend Miriam whispered beside her, looping an arm through Lina's. "You look like you're about to bolt."

"I might," Lina muttered.

Miriam laughed softly. "It's just a fundraiser. Rich people pretending to care about the world while sipping champagne."

"That's exactly why I'm uncomfortable."

Lina was here because she had to be. Because visibility mattered in her line of work. Because showing up-even when it made her skin itch-was part of building credibility.

She was an architectural conservator, passionate about preserving old structures with stories etched into their walls. Harrington House itself was one of her projects, a historic estate being restored into a cultural center. Tonight's gala was meant to raise funds for that very restoration.

It should have been a win for her.

Instead, her chest felt tight.

"Just smile," Miriam said. "Mingle. Network. Then we leave early and eat suya like normal people."

Lina smiled despite herself. "Deal."

They moved further into the room, accepting flutes of champagne from passing servers. Lina nodded politely at faces she recognized vaguely from meetings and planning committees. Her mind drifted as conversations blurred together-funding percentages, timelines, donors.

Then it happened.

The air shifted.

That was the only way she could describe it.

The laughter seemed to fade, the chatter dulling into background noise. Her skin prickled, an unfamiliar awareness crawling up her spine. Lina paused mid-step, her instincts screaming at her to look up.

And when she did-

Everything stopped.

He stood near the grand staircase, tall and impossibly still, like he belonged there in a way the rest of them didn't. He wasn't laughing or gesturing wildly like the others. He wasn't trying to impress anyone.

He was watching.

Not her.

Yet.

Dark hair fell carelessly across his forehead, contrasting sharply with the crisp black suit tailored to perfection. His jaw was sharp, his posture relaxed but guarded, as though he were constantly bracing himself against something unseen. One hand rested in his pocket, the other loosely holding a glass he hadn't touched.

There was something unsettling about his calm.

As if storms lived beneath it.

Lina felt it before she understood it-the pull, sudden and undeniable. Her breath caught, her heart stuttering painfully against her ribs.

She told herself it was nothing.

Just curiosity.

Just attraction.

But then his gaze lifted.

And found her.

The moment their eyes met, the world snapped back into motion-too fast, too loud. Her pulse roared in her ears. The air between them seemed to vibrate, heavy with something unspoken.

He didn't look away.

Neither did she.

It was reckless, holding a stranger's gaze like that. Lina knew better. She'd spent her life learning restraint, building walls, guarding her heart with careful precision.

But something about him made those walls feel... thin.

His eyes were dark-deep, unreadable-but there was a flicker there. Surprise, maybe. Interest. Something raw and sharp that mirrored the sudden tightness in her chest.

Miriam leaned closer. "Lina," she murmured. "You okay?"

Lina blinked, breaking the connection, her cheeks warming. "Yeah. Just-crowded."

But when she dared another glance, he was still looking at her.

And this time, he smiled.

Not a wide grin. Not charming or playful.

It was slow. Intentional.

Dangerous.

Heat bloomed low in her stomach, unwelcome and thrilling all at once. She looked away sharply, annoyed at herself.

Get a grip.

She took a sip of champagne she didn't want, letting the cool bitterness ground her. This was ridiculous. She didn't do instant attraction. She didn't lose herself over strangers in suits.

Yet every nerve in her body remained painfully aware of him.

Minutes passed-maybe more. Conversations continued. Lina answered questions on autopilot, nodding, smiling when appropriate. But she felt him before she saw him again.

Too close.

She turned-and he was there.

Up close, he was worse.

Taller than she'd thought. Broader. His presence was overwhelming, like standing too near the edge of something vast and uncontrollable. He smelled faintly of cedar and something darker she couldn't place.

"Hi," he said.

His voice was low. Calm. It wrapped around the single word and sank straight into her chest.

"Hello," Lina replied, hating how steady she sounded compared to how she felt.

He studied her openly, unapologetic. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"You are," she said honestly. Then, softer, "But that's alright."

A corner of his mouth lifted. "Good."

She arched a brow. "Confident."

"Honest," he corrected. "I saw you from across the room. You looked like you wanted to escape."

She laughed despite herself. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only to someone who feels the same."

That surprised her. "You don't look uncomfortable."

"That's because I'm practiced at pretending."

Something in his tone made her chest ache-a quiet admission hidden beneath smooth words.

"I'm Kai," he said, extending a hand.

She hesitated only a second before taking it. The moment their palms touched, a shock raced up her arm. His grip was warm, firm, lingering just a fraction too long.

"Lina."

He repeated her name slowly, like he was testing how it felt. "Lina."

Her heartbeat stumbled.

"Beautiful name," he added.

She pulled her hand back gently. "You say that to everyone?"

"No," he said. "Just the ones that feel like trouble."

Her breath hitched. "I should be offended."

"You should be careful," he replied quietly.

Something about the way he said it made her pulse race.

They stood there, suspended in a bubble that felt far removed from the rest of the room. Lina became acutely aware of the closeness between them, the way his attention never wavered.

"Are you involved with the restoration project?" she asked, needing something solid to cling to.

His expression shifted-guarded now. "In a way."

That was vague. "That's not very clear."

"I tend to be selective with details."

"Why?"

His gaze softened, but the intensity remained. "Because clarity has a way of complicating things."

Before she could respond, a man approached them, clapping Kai on the shoulder. "There you are. I've been looking everywhere."

Kai's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "I'll be there in a moment."

The man glanced at Lina, curious. "Enjoying the evening?"

"Yes," she said politely.

He smiled and walked off.

Kai exhaled slowly. "Apologies."

"It's fine," Lina said. "You seem... popular."

"Unfortunately."

She studied him. "You don't enjoy this kind of attention."

"No," he admitted. "But it comes with the territory."

"And what territory is that?"

For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer.

Then he said, "The kind that expects you to live quietly."

Her chest tightened. "That sounds lonely."

His eyes searched her face. "It is."

The honesty of it startled her.

They stood in silence, something heavy and electric settling between them. Lina knew, with a certainty that frightened her, that this was the kind of moment that changed things.

She should walk away.

She didn't.

"I should check on my friend," she said finally, even as she hated the thought of leaving.

Kai nodded. "Of course."

She turned, took two steps-

Then his voice stopped her.

"Lina."

She looked back.

"This-whatever this is," he said softly, "it won't stay quiet."

Her heart pounded. "Maybe it should."

"Maybe," he agreed. "But some things are too loud to hide."

The words lingered in the air long after she walked away.

Lina found Miriam near the dessert table, her smile immediately turning curious. "Who was that?"

"No one," Lina said too quickly.

Miriam's eyes sparkled. "That didn't look like nothing."

Lina glanced back without meaning to.

Kai stood where she'd left him, watching her with an expression that felt like a promise-and a warning.

Her chest tightened with a feeling she knew all too well.

The ache of something beginning.

And the fear of where it might lead.

That night, long after the gala ended, Lina lay awake in her apartment, staring at the ceiling as the city hummed softly beyond her windows.

She told herself it was just a moment.

Just a stranger.

But her heart knew better.

Some loves don't whisper their arrival.

They announce themselves.

And hers had just begun-far too loud to hide.