“Don’t be too hard on the board of directors later. You’ll lose your beauty that way,” Noah teased softly before giving Noira’s shoulder a gentle pat. “Your black coffee will be ready in two minutes, Boss.”
Noah turned and strolled toward the pantry, leaving Noira standing frozen in place.
Noira touched the ear Noah had just touched. Her heart was beating irrationally fast. She stared at the ordinary man’s back, her feelings beginning to spiral into chaos.
“Crazy man…” Noira murmured softly to herself, trying to suppress the smile threatening to escape her red lips. “It’s only the first day… How am I supposed to last three months with him?”
The once-quiet pantry on the executive floor suddenly became tense. Noah, who had just finished brewing the bitter espresso Noira ordered, stopped in the doorway when he heard the commotion of footsteps and a shrill laugh that was completely out of place in the rigid atmosphere of Authum Holdings.
Two uninvited guests stood in front of her desk.
A man in a tailored navy suit with impeccably neat hair stood beside a young woman dressed in an extravagantly luxurious pastel outfit. The woman clung tightly to the man’s arm, as though afraid he might vanish on the wind.
“Aina? Dasan?”
Noira emerged from her office, her brows drawn into a sharp frown. Her cold eyes now flashed with intense displeasure.
The man—Dasan Diratama—smiled faintly. It was the self-assured smile of a man who believed himself eternally desirable. Beside him, Aina Mahaya, Noira’s younger cousin from her mother’s side of the family, wore a sweet smile whose falseness was painfully obvious.
“Hi, Kak Noira,” Aina greeted her in an affectedly childish voice, tightening her grip on Dasan’s arm. “Mas Dasan said he missed seeing your new office, so I brought him here. Besides, Mas Dasan only got back from Germany last week.”
Dasan took one step forward, fixing Noira with an intense, blatantly possessive gaze.
“You haven’t changed, Noira. You’re still just as cold,” Dasan said, his deep voice carrying a hint of condescension. “But I know this stiff, deliberately indifferent attitude of yours is just a mask, right? You’re still angry about our engagement being called off last year.”
Noira folded her arms, her chin raised arrogantly. “That engagement is dead and buried, Dasan. Don’t bring the trash of the past into my office. And Aina, how many times do I have to tell you? This area is restricted to business matters.”
Aina let out a small laugh, resting her head on Dasan’s shoulder as she shot Noira a victorious glance. “Hear that, Mas? Kak Noira’s putting on airs again. She always pretends to hate you to hide how jealous she is. You know it yourself, Mas Dasan—Kak Noira has never been able to move on from you.”
Dasan chuckled softly, his ego swelling. “Aina’s right, Noira. This cold act is just your way of getting my attention again, isn’t it? You’re jealous because Aina is always clinging to me as my personal secretary now.”
“You’re awfully confident, Dasan,” Noira cut in, her voice already sharp as an icy needle. Her hands tightened beneath her folded arms, restraining the anger building inside her.
“Don’t deny it, Noira,” Dasan pressed in a lecturing tone. “We were engaged once. I know you inside and out. No other man could handle a stiff woman like you except me. So stop acting as if you’ve already forgotten me.”
“Excuse me. Coming through. Excuse me…”
A laid-back voice cut through the simmering tension.