Chapter 10 Trust me

The sun was slowly setting behind the Estilo Capital skyscrapers when Emilia finished reviewing the final adjustments to the plans. The orange light coming through the large window of her studio cast long shadows across her desk. It wasn't the first time she'd spent overtime working on the project with Grupo Vega, but it was the first time she felt she was on the brink of something unknown, something she wasn't prepared for.

She sighed and, almost automatically, smoothed her hair with her hands, a gesture she performed every time she felt nervous. She put the folder in her briefcase, and as she closed it, a thought crossed her mind: something would change tonight. Adrián had requested a private meeting, without his team, without emails, without witnesses. Just the two of them. And that, coming from a man like him, wasn't a coincidence.

She left the building and took a taxi straight to the Grupo Vega tower. During the ride, she reviewed the plans once more, but she didn't really see them. Her mind was somewhere else, on someone else.

Since Mateo's appearance at that surprise meeting a few days earlier, something between her and Adrián had fractured. Adrián wasn't the same anymore. He was more distant, colder, more cutting. The presence of Mateo, her former partner, had put him on the defensive in a way that affected not only his work but also the relationship that had begun to form between them. And Emilia noticed it. She felt it in every word he didn't say, every gesture he didn't make, every look filled with something unsaid.

The elevator took her directly to the floor. When the doors opened, an almost solemn silence filled the hallway. She walked to Adrián's office, where the door was ajar. She knocked softly, but received no answer.

"Vega?" she asked, peeking timidly.

Adrián had his back to her, looking out the window at the city. His posture was upright, his hands in his trouser pockets, his jacket hanging on the chair behind him. His perfectly fitted white shirt revealed the restrained tension in his body.

"Punctual, as always," he said without turning around.

"And you, tight-lipped, as usual," Emilia replied, trying to lighten the moment.

Finally, Adrián turned slowly, and when his green eyes met hers, Emilia was forced not to look away. She couldn't give in. She couldn't show weakness.

"Did you come to deliver the plans or to challenge me?" he asked, his tone gentle, but laden with obvious tension.

"Does it bother you when someone doesn't say yes to everything?" Emilia replied, trying to maintain her composure.

He let out a slight smile. It wasn't friendly, but a mixture of provocation and warning.

"What bothers me is that the project is being contaminated by issues that have nothing to do with architecture."

Emilia took a step toward him, placing her briefcase on the conference table.

"Mateo, you say?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"You mentioned him, not me."

"There was no need."

They stared at each other. The air seemed to have thickened, as if words could no longer fill the space. The tension was palpable, as if an enormous truth hovered between them, not daring to surface.

"Do you want to talk about him?" Emilia asked, crossing her arms. "Or about what really bothers you?"

Adrián looked at her as if trying to decipher, as if at that very moment he was analyzing every word and every gesture.

"What bothers me is that you're not being honest. Not with me, not with yourself. Do you love him?"

"I don't love him. And are you honest?" "Emilia replied without thinking, her voice colder than she would have liked.

Adrian walked to his desk and pulled an envelope from one of the drawers. He held it out to her.

"This is what Mateo tried to do to me three years ago. This is what your ex-husband represents to me. Read that and then tell me if I should be comfortable with his return."

Emilia didn't take the envelope. Not yet. She felt that in that moment something more was at stake than the contents of that envelope.

"I don't need information to know who Mateo is. I was married to him, remember?" she replied, without taking her gaze off Adrian.

"That's precisely why you should want to see him clearly."

"Don't underestimate me, Adrian. I'm not a naive woman. But I'm not your personal spy either. I'm not going to interfere in your corporate war."

"You're already in, Emilia," he said harshly. "You've been doing it since the first day you walked into my office." There was a long silence. The air, already tense, grew even thicker.

"You didn't hire me knowing who I was. But now that you know... it seems you no longer know how to treat me."

Adrian closed his eyes for a moment, as if taking a breath. When he opened them, his gaze had changed. There was less strategy, less control. There was doubt, there was vulnerability.

"It's just that with you, I don't know which of us is going to lose. If you betray me..."

His words were a blow to Emilia. More than any professional or business criticism, that confession disarmed her. Adrian, the man who controlled an empire with a gesture, admitted that she destabilized him. And Emilia didn't know whether to feel powerful or terrified by the revelation.

"Maybe it's not about losing," she finally said, her voice softer. "But about stopping playing as if everything were a battle. I haven't given you reason to doubt me."

"Easy to say when you've already been betrayed. When you already know what it feels like to hit rock bottom."

"And you don't know?" she asked, with a steady, defiant gaze.

Adrian clenched his jaw, a muscle throbbing at his temple.

"I know exactly how that feels."

"Then don't shoot someone who didn't come to hurt you."

The silence that followed was different. It wasn't the silence that normally accompanies professional or sexual tension. It was a heavy silence, laden with something deeper. A bridge they both try to build, but without knowing if it would withstand the weight of their truths.

Emilia took a step back, not out of fear, but out of instinct. She felt like it was all overwhelming her.

"I'll leave you the plans," she said, returning to the briefcase. "And the envelope. I appreciate the information, but my decisions don't depend on that man. Not anymore."

"And on me?" he asked, almost without a voice, as if he had trouble hearing his own words.

She looked at him from the doorway, her gaze colder than ever.

"Nor."

With those words, she left without waiting for a reply. The sound of her heels faded into the hallway as Adrián was left alone once again. On the table, the envelope and the plans remained together, a reminder of the past and the present, of the unresolved conflict. And in the midst of it all, a feeling that neither of them knew how to name.

Emilia had felt the humiliation in her gut, but she had also understood something profound at that moment: in that game between the three, the greatest risk was not losing the battle, but losing oneself.