Chapter 17 up
“I can drive you home.”
The words sounded simple. But to Nyla, they came at exactly the right moment.
It was already late when the party finally began to wind down. The ballroom, once buzzing with noise, now felt colder, as if it were holding the echo of the disturbance that had just occurred. Nyla stood near the exit, waiting for a ride-hailing car that still hadn’t arrived after fifteen minutes.
She wasn’t anxious. Just tired.
Vincent stood a few steps away from her. His suit was still immaculate, his expression calm as ever. There was no sign that the man had been disturbed by the drama earlier that evening—yet Nyla knew not a single detail had escaped his notice.
“I don’t want to inconvenience you,” Nyla replied politely.
Vincent turned toward her. “It’s not an inconvenience. Besides, after what happened tonight, you shouldn’t be going home alone.”
Nyla paused for a moment, then nodded. “All right. Thank you.”
Vincent’s car pulled away from the hotel in silence. City lights streaked past the windows, casting long shadows across Nyla’s face. She sat upright, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
“I’m sorry about the scene earlier,” Vincent said at last.
Nyla shook her head. “You don’t need to apologize. That wasn’t your responsibility.”
Vincent glanced at her briefly. “But I witnessed it.”
His voice was even, yet there was a firmness that couldn’t be mistaken. “And I don’t like injustice disguised as emotion.”
Nyla offered a faint smile. “I’m used to it.”
That answer made Vincent look at her longer. “That’s not something anyone should get used to.”
The car slowed at an intersection. Silence settled between them for a moment—not awkward, but thoughtful.
“Many people would have responded with anger,” Vincent continued. “Or exposed someone else’s flaws just to survive.”
“And I chose silence,” Nyla said quietly. “Not because I’m weak, but because I want to recognize myself when all of this is over.”
Vincent smiled slightly. “That’s why I was interested in talking to you.”
Nyla turned to him, a little surprised. “Interested… in what way?”
“In the way you think,” Vincent answered honestly. “And in how you control yourself under pressure.”
The car stopped in front of Nyla’s apartment building. Small lights glowed warmly, contrasting with the chill of the night.
Vincent turned off the engine but didn’t get out right away. He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, took out a slim leather wallet, and pulled out a business card.
“This is for you.”
Nyla accepted the card with both hands, politely. The name printed on it was simple yet firm—Vincent Alvarez, Executive Director.
“If one day you need professional assistance,” Vincent said, “or an opportunity.”
Nyla studied the card for a moment. “I appreciate it.”
Vincent nodded. “I’ll be direct.”
His tone shifted—more serious.
“I’m looking for a personal assistant.”
Nyla slowly lifted her head. “A… personal assistant?”
“Yes,” Vincent replied. “Someone who isn’t just administratively organized, but also calm in a crisis. Someone who knows when to speak—and when to stay silent.”
Nyla fell quiet.
“And someone,” Vincent continued, “who isn’t easily shaken by public opinion.”
The car felt even quieter.
“I’m not familiar with your world,” Nyla said honestly. “I don’t have the background of the people around you.”
Vincent smiled faintly. “That’s precisely your strength.”
He looked at her without judgment, without condescension. “I don’t recruit based on gossip or status. I recruit based on competence and character.”
Nyla drew a slow breath. The offer had come too quickly—and was far too significant.
“Why me?” she asked at last.
Vincent didn’t answer immediately. He looked ahead, then back at her. “Because the person who tried to bring you down tonight… did it out of fear.”
Nyla stiffened.
“Fear of what you possess,” Vincent went on calmly. “Not wealth. But integrity.”
The word hung in the air.
“I don’t need an answer right now,” Vincent added. “Think about it carefully. If you’re interested, call the number on the card.”
Nyla held the card a little tighter. “Thank you. For trusting me.”
Vincent nodded. “Trust should be given to those who know how to protect it.”
Nyla opened the car door, then paused. “Mr. Vincent?”
“Yes?”
“You know,” she said softly, “this offer will change many things.”
Vincent smiled faintly. “Change isn’t always bad. Sometimes, it’s just the truth finally finding its way.”