Vincent POV:-
Saturday morning. I sat at the dining table, the same routine, the same silence, and unfortunately, the most hated breakfast.
Pancakes.
Again.
I set the fork down and looked toward the kitchen. "I've said this before. Don't serve me pancakes, I hate it."
The cook appeared instantly, apologizing. I didn't respond further. One instruction is enough.
I resumed eating, but my focus didn't stay on the plate.
It shifted.
Unnecessarily.
Aurelia Vale.
I paused for a second, then leaned back slightly, almost annoyed at my own thought process. It didn't make sense. She was just another candidate. Nothing more.
Yet, my mind didn't dismiss it as easily.
I stood up, picked up my phone, and dialed.
"Mrs. Gracia."
"Good morning, sir."
"Are the candidate evaluations finalized?"
"Yes, sir. The review is complete. I'll send the detailed list shortly."
"Good."
I was about to end the call, but something held me back.
"How many candidates were shortlisted out of twenty?"
"Twelve, sir."
Twelve. Reasonable.
"Send me all the files before 5 p.m. I'll review them and finalize Monday's schedule."
"Of course, sir."
A pause followed, as if she expected something more.
"There's nothing else," I said, and ended the call.
For a moment, I stood there, phone still in my hand. I don't usually revisit candidates mentally. Once the process starts, everything is systematic.
This was different.
I didn't like that.
I walked into my home office, the one place where everything stays controlled. No interruptions. No unnecessary thoughts.
Just work.
I moved toward the cabinet and started scanning through the files.
"Where is it…"
My fingers stopped at a familiar case file.
"Found it."
The factory murder case.
Complicated. Layered. Misleading evidence. It had taken me three days to break it down completely. Most wouldn't even get halfway through it properly.
I placed it on the desk and opened it, revisiting key points.
This would be the test.
Not memory. Not textbook answers.
Thinking.
Real analysis.
I closed the file slowly.
Yes. This was appropriate.
Without realizing it, a thought crossed my mind.
Let's see how you handle this, Miss Vale.
I didn't question it further.
My phone buzzed again.
Mr. Sanchez.
"Yes?"
"Sir, regarding the construction site accident case."
"Yes."
"The final hearing scheduled for Tuesday has been postponed. The judge is unwell. A new date will be announced."
"Noted."
The call ended.
I placed the phone aside and turned back to the desk.
Twelve candidates.
Twelve files.
Each of them would be tested.
I began sorting them, one after another, aligning them based on complexity and evaluation level.
My hand paused briefly over one file.
I didn't need to check the name.
I already knew it.
Aurelia Vale.
I leaned back in my chair, eyes resting on the stack in front of me.
This round won't be easy.
And this time, I'll be watching closely.