Vincent Montclair settled into the back seat of his sleek black car, the city reflecting faintly across the tinted windows as they drove back from court.
His posture was composed, sharp—as always.
Without looking up, he asked,
"Did the first round of interviews begin?"
His assistant, Mr. Sanchez, seated in the front, replied promptly,
"Yes, sir. The first round was conducted today for ten candidates. Another ten are scheduled for tomorrow."
Vincent gave a slight nod, his gaze shifting outside—distant, but attentive.
Within minutes, the car slowed as it approached the Montclair Group's main gate.
At the same moment—
Aurelia stood just outside, waiting for her taxi.
Her mind was still replaying the interview.
Every question. Every answer.
Until—
"WOAH… such a luxury car."
Her attention snapped toward the entrance as the car came to a halt.
The door opened.
First, polished black boots touched the ground.
Then—he stepped out.
Tall. Composed. Effortlessly commanding.
Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, with dark glasses shielding his eyes, Vincent carried an aura that didn't need attention—
It demanded it.
Aurelia blinked.
"Why does this look like a full-on drama entry…" she muttered under her breath, still staring.
For a second—just a second—
her thoughts paused.
Vincent, along with his secretary, walked past her without a glance and entered the building.
Aurelia exhaled softly.
"Wow… if I get selected here, I'll be seeing faces like that every day , handsome and—"
She stopped herself mid-thought.
A small, self-aware smile appeared.
"Focus, Aurelia. You're here to work, not admire."
Just then, her taxi arrived.
She stepped in, shutting the door on both the moment—
and the distraction.
Inside the building—
Vincent entered his cabin and took his seat.
But something lingered.
A thought.
A feeling.
He leaned back slightly.
"Why did that presence downstairs feel… familiar?"
His brows narrowed just a fraction.
Before the thought could settle—
Knock. Knock.
"Come in," he said, his tone returning to authority.
Mrs. Gracia stepped in, holding a set of files.
"Good afternoon, sir."
"Yes, Mrs. Gracia. How was the overall interview?"
She placed the files neatly on his desk.
"Out of ten candidates, four have been selected for the next round. Tomorrow, after the remaining interviews, we will finalize."
Vincent nodded and began reviewing the files, flipping through them with precision.
One after another.
Until—
his fingers paused.
Aurelia Vale.
His gaze sharpened slightly.
Mrs. Gracia noticed.
"Sir, this candidate stood out. Her answers were clear, direct, and honest. In fact, she was the only one unanimously approved by the panel—without any objections."
Vincent's eyes lingered on the resume a moment longer.
Then it clicked.
The rain.
The entrance.
The same girl.
A subtle shift crossed his expression—almost unnoticeable.
Yet… real.
"The same one…" he thought.
The one who had, somehow, stayed in his mind longer than expected.
And now—
she was here.
In his firm.
"Mrs. Gracia," Vincent closed the file calmly, "thank you for your work. Proceed with the final evaluation after tomorrow's round and inform the selected candidates."
"Yes, sir."
She left the cabin quietly.
The room fell silent.
Vincent leaned back, the file still resting beneath his hand.
A faint smile—rare and unguarded—appeared.
Over a name.
Aurelia Vale.
Perhaps—
this was what people called fate.
Or perhaps—
just the beginning of something neither of them expected.
But the real decision remained—
Not his.
Hers.