POV Victor
She was at the counter, hair spilling in loose waves over her shoulder, one hand steady on the mug, the other lazily stirring a spoon. The sunlight hit her in a way that made me pause — I wasn’t used to pausing. The steam curled up from the coffee like it had secrets to tell, and she stood there as if she wasn’t holding my attention hostage.
I leaned against the doorway, silent. Leo was wrapped up with partners from China today, which meant I was running the company. Normally, that would have had my full attention. But not this morning. Not with her here.
Mira was the one thing I couldn’t read. Every other woman was easy — a look, a word, a laugh in the wrong place, and I knew which brother they leaned toward. But her? Nothing. No patterns, no flinches, no tells. She was a locked safe, and I didn’t know if cracking her would be thrilling or fatal.
She turned suddenly, eyes going wide when she saw me. The mug almost tipped. “How long have you been standing there?”
I let a slow smirk pull at my mouth. “Long enough for you to notice me.”
Her gaze narrowed, sharp but not hostile. She turned back to the coffee and took a sip — only to grimace like she’d just swallowed battery acid.
“Ugh. I thought I had the right ratio this time,” she muttered, setting the mug down with an annoyed clink.
I stepped forward, closing the space between us until I could smell her shampoo — clean, light, something I couldn’t name but wanted to. “That’s not your regular coffee,” I said. I held out my hand. “Come on, let me help you.”
Before she could protest, I took the mug, poured it into the sink, and grabbed the beans. She folded her arms, leaning a hip against the counter, but I could feel her eyes on me.
“You always this confident in the kitchen?” she asked, her tone casual but her gaze anything but.
I looked at her over my shoulder. “Only when I know I’m better.”
Her lips twitched. “And with coffee…?”
“I’m always better,” I said, starting to grind the beans.
She gave me a low laugh — not the polite kind people give when they’re humoring you, but the kind that slips out without permission. I liked that sound. Wanted to hear it again.
“You take this seriously,” she noted, watching as I measured the grounds and poured the water.
“I take everything seriously,” I said. “You’ll learn that about me.”
She tilted her head slightly. “Is that a warning?”
“Only if you’re planning to test me.”
Her eyes held mine for a beat longer than necessary, then she looked down at the mug I was filling. “Do you even drink this much coffee, or is it just about the performance?”
I slid the finished cup toward her. “Taste.”
Her brows lifted in mild suspicion, but she took a sip. The change in her expression was instant — her eyes lit up, her lips curved, and her whole posture eased. “Okay… that’s good,” she admitted. “Coffee is your specialty.”
I leaned on the counter beside her, watching her reaction like I’d just made a chess move. “I have more specialties,” I said.
She arched an eyebrow. “Such as?”
I smiled slowly. “How about I show you one of them tonight?”
Her head tilted. “Show me? That’s vague.”
“Deliberately vague,” I said. “Keeps it interesting. Can I take you out tonight?”
Her gaze sharpened a little. “Where?”
“I’d rather keep that a surprise.” I took a slow sip of my own coffee. “So what’s the answer, princess?”
She held my eyes, as if deciding whether to play along or not. Finally, she set her mug down with a soft tap. “Yes. Of course.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
A flicker passed over her face — maybe curiosity, maybe something else. “You know, you’re very sure of yourself.”
I let the corner of my mouth lift. “And you’re not?”
“I like to know what I’m walking into,” she said.
“Then you’ll have to trust me,” I replied.
She gave a short laugh. “Trust? That’s a big ask.”
“Not for someone who makes coffee this good,” I countered.
Her eyes rolled, but there was no heat in it. “You really think this coffee bought you a date?”
I leaned in just enough for her to notice. “No. I think the way you keep looking at me did.”
Her breath caught — just for a second — before she stepped back, lifting her cup again like a shield. “We’ll see if tonight lives up to your… confidence.”
“It will,” I said simply.
The silence stretched for a moment, filled only by the faint hum of the fridge and the quiet clink of her spoon against the mug. She sipped again, her expression calmer now, but I knew she was thinking.
I finished my coffee in two long swallows and set the cup down. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
She raised a brow. “No negotiation?”
“None needed,” I said, turning to leave. “You’ve already said yes.”
And as I walked out, I knew I had her thinking about me for the rest of the day — which was exactly where I wanted her.