Cruel Love

Chapter 4

The weekend loomed like a glorious oasis in Aria's work-weary eyes. As a salesgirl at Vincent's, the city's most bustling mall, her days were a whirlwind of wrapping paper, gift bags, and the never-ending requests of demanding customers. Landing the job had been a stroke of luck, thanks to her ever-reliable friend, David. He was her only escape from the bluster of her life.

"Aria, did you hear? The owner of this mall is visiting today! He's supposedly incredibly handsome and the most eligible bachelor in the city," Catherine Aria's co-worker chirped excitedly, her words tumbling out one after the other. With a personality as bright and bubbly as the helium balloons they sold, she thrived on customer interaction.

Aria, meticulously arranging a display of scented candles, barely looked up. "Really?" she mumbled, more interested in the even rows than any gossip about the elusive owner.

Catherine, ever the observer, threw Aria a knowing look. "Oh, Aria," she sighed dramatically, "you and your blissful obliviousness. Let's just get this show on the road, shall we?" With a flourish, Catherine threw open the shop doors, the familiar mall music flooding in. Aria, with a silent nod, finished her task.

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Zane, a contrast to the frantic energy of the city outside, sat composed in his car. The throngs of people hurrying past faces etched with their own anxieties were invisible to him. His gaze was fixed on a point in the distance, his mind already strategizing the day's agenda.

A voice broke the silence. "Sir," his secretary began, "the annual report shows a significant increase in the mall's income, a fifty percent jump to be exact."

Zane acknowledged the news with a curt nod, his expression unreadable. Numbers were a language he spoke fluently, and this particular figure resonated with satisfaction. Success, it seemed, thrived in controlled environments.

"The mall manager has flagged the back entrance for renovations," the secretary continued.

Without hesitation, Zane issued his directive. "Then what are you waiting for? Get it done as soon as possible," he ordered firmly.

The car pulled to a stop at the grand entrance of Vincent's Mall. The director, a man perpetually on the edge of a smile, hurried forward, his eagerness a stark contrast to Zane's reserved demeanor. "Mr. Vincent," he greeted, bowing slightly, "welcome back."

Zane's entrance into Vincent's Mall was a scene straight out of a celebrity arrival. Flanked by his ever-present security detail, a trailing management team, and his ever-watchful secretary, he commanded attention effortlessly. Passersby craned their necks, whispers rippled through the crowd, and a collective gasp rose from a gaggle of teenagers. Zane, however, remained an island of stoicism amidst the commotion. His charisma, a potent blend of power and an air of mystery, was difficult to ignore. As they crossed the polished corridors, Zane's gaze caught on a quaint little gift shop tucked away in a corner. An unexpected thought struck him; a present for his sister, Hannah. A small smile, a rare visitor to his face, tugged at the corner of his lips.

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The chime of the shop door sliced through the quiet lull of the afternoon, pulling Aria's gaze from the register. Her breath hitched. Standing before her was a man who seemed to defy reality. He possessed an aura of power and an arresting presence that made the air crackle. Scintillating green eyes, the color of envy or emeralds depending on the light, held hers captive. "Such a handsome man," she thought, a blush creeping up her neck. His chiseled features and broad shoulders made time seem too slow, the world reduced to him and the rapid pulse in her chest.

Across the counter, Zane was equally captivated. The woman before him radiated a fragile beauty. Her baby blue eyes, the color of a summer sky, held a hint of surprise that quickly morphed into something akin to shyness. Her creamy white skin and blonde hair, the color of spun sunshine, made her appear like a delicate doll. He found himself uttering a silent curse, "Damn." This wasn't a typical reaction for him. He was accustomed to wielding power, to having people fawn over him. But this woman, with her flustered cheeks and wide eyes, ignited a spark of unexpected intrigue.

"I need a gift for a teenager," Zane finally managed to say, breaking the spell that had momentarily rendered him speechless.

Aria tried to respond, her mind a whirlwind of jumbled thoughts. Stuttering erupted, a habit of hers when she would be nervous. Zane chuckled a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. He wasn't oblivious to the effect he had on people, and he usually reveled in it. Yet, the way this woman reacted, the sheer innocence in her fluster, was oddly appealing.

"Am I making you nervous, sweetie?" he drawled, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Aria's cheeks burned even hotter. "No, no, it's not like that," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "Catherine, where are you?" she silently pleaded. It had felt like an eternity since her co-worker had declared a bathroom emergency, leaving Aria to fend for herself just as Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome walked in. Catherine, with her outgoing personality, would know exactly what to do in this situation.

"Excuse me," Zane said softly, his voice dancing with amusement. His gaze held a hint of something Aria couldn't decipher.

Taking a deep breath, Aria forced some courage. "Oh, yes! Right," she chirped, "Is it a girl or a boy you're looking gift for?"

Zane's lips curved into a genuine smile at her attempt to mask her nervousness. One that reached his eyes and crinkled the corners. It was a smile that disarmed some and captivated others. In Aria's case, it did both. Fluster fluttered in her chest, a hummingbird trapped against her ribs. "A girl," he confirmed, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

Zane stopped himself from smirking. There was something about this girl, with her wide blue eyes and flustered demeanor, that was undeniably amusing. It was a new sensation, a welcome distraction from the weight of his usual encounters.