After the call ended, Cillian stood still, staring at his phone screen for a long moment.
He blinked at what he had just heard before releasing a disbelieving chuckle.
"Uh... Sir, is everything okay?"
A voice rang out from behind him, making Cillian turn. It was his assistant, Kevin, who had been standing silently in the Archon Group office. Having overheard the conversation with the big boss, Kevin was reeling with intrigue.
Kevin was well aware that the big boss had never revealed himself to the public, especially not as someone connected to the multi-billion-dollar empire of the Archon Group.
Processing the gist of the conversation between Cillian and the mysterious leader was almost too much to wrap his head around.
Cillian wiped a hand across his handsome face before replying. "Can you believe it, Kevin? He is finally deciding to show up after all these years of me begging him to."
"I... I cannot believe it myself, Sir. I thought he hated the limelight. I would have said the chances of him showing up were less than one per cent," Kevin responded in equal disbelief.
He paused for a beat before asking, "What do you think made him change his mind?"
Cillian walked toward his desk and leaned against the edge.
Tapping his finger rhythmically against the polished surface, he answered, "I am certain it is because of a certain… someone. Someone who has clearly intrigued him more than anyone else."
Cillian's gaze shifted to the flat screen on the office wall, which was currently displaying Aliana's photo alongside the news ticker.
Just the mention of her name brought a massive headache to both Cillian and Kevin. They were well aware of how deep into the mud she had dragged them because of that entire accident fiasco, a situation they never could have anticipated.
Yet, here they were, trapped under the public lens.
They were forced to answer ridiculous questions about whether they had planned the crash, all while watching their stock market value plummet. It was the last thing they needed, especially since their shares had been soaring since last month.
As Cillian stared at the screen, he wondered what it was about this woman that had caught that elusive man's interest.
His thoughts wandered back to that night when they were leaving the club together. Cillian had been driving, of course.
Since it was the middle of the night on an isolated stretch of road, traffic had been virtually nonexistent. Just as he took the turn, a woman suddenly stumbled into the middle of the road at a blind turn.
He had slammed on the brakes as fast as humanly possible, but she was already too close to avoid the collision.
And that was not all.
He had truly believed she would not survive that crash. He had been mentally preparing himself when he was about to step out of the car… but someone else did before he could.
Him.
A man who never cared about anyone. Someone who would rather watch the world burn with bored expressions or remain emotionless in any situation. Yet he was the first to step out of the car. Something Cillian would never have expected of him.
'This woman doesn't know just how lucky she got that night…' Cillian thought to himself.
Just thinking about it made him shake his head in disbelief once again.
Looking back at Kevin, he said, "Let's get to work. Call the PR department. We need damage control, and we need to put out all the fires the she-devil has started."
"Right away, sir," Kevin snapped out of his thoughts instantly and hurried off to get to work.
The next couple of days were chaotic, to say the least, for Aliana.
She continued to have the same recurring dream about the man with icy blue eyes every night, waking at odd hours only to feel as though someone was watching her. But the moment she switched on the lights, the feeling vanished, as if it had all been a trick of her mind.
It got to the point where she began keeping a light on while she slept, though it did little to curb the steamy dreams, which still left her hot and bothered.
While her nights were unsettling, her days were even worse.
Random apparitions appeared around the office, during meetings, in corridors, even inside her own office, throwing her off every single time. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to concentrate on her work.
Whispers had already begun circulating among employees, questioning whether she was slowly losing her grip, raising concerns about her mental state.
Her parents, naturally, grew worried. It eventually led to her father insisting that she attend therapy sessions.
Aliana was frustrated, but she could not entirely blame them, as their concern was valid.
Truth be told, she was beginning to worry about herself.
Because now, she could no longer tell if any of this was real… or simply a figment of her imagination.
Aliana currently lay on a cosy white sofa in a spacious yet quiet room, while another person sat across from her in an armchair.
Doctor Noah, a world-renowned psychologist personally recommended by Doctor Jones, who had treated Aliana, was seated opposite her. His posture was relaxed, one leg crossed over the other, with a notepad and pen resting in his hands.
He had salt-and-pepper hair and sharp black eyes, while the fine lines on his face suggested he was in his fifties.
He glanced up from his notepad at Aliana, who lay on the sofa with her eyes closed.
She had not spoken a word since arriving, so he had suggested she lie down and relax. Nearly half an hour had passed with her remaining completely still, and he found himself wondering whether she was simply resting… or had fallen asleep.
Deciding to check on her, he subtly cleared his throat.
When she did not move, he glanced around the room and released a tired sigh. He was no stranger to dealing with difficult patients.
Knowing their session would come to an end soon, he tried one last time. "Miss Vanderbilt?"
"Hm?" she replied, though her eyes remained shut.
'Ah, good. She isn't sleeping. Thank God,' Dr. Noah thought to himself.
"Are you comfortable enough now?" he asked, his tone more cautious this time.
"Yes, I am comfortable enough to rest. Although I must say, these sofa cushions could be softer. Perhaps I can recommend some furniture shops that specialise in stylish, high-end pieces. I am sure you would thank me for it, Dr. Noah."
'Is she really giving me furniture advice right now?' The doctor was baffled.
"Um... that is very kind of you, Miss Vanderbilt. However, I meant to ask if you are comfortable enough to talk now?"
Aliana remained quiet for a long moment. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, and she sat bolt upright, giving the poor doctor a start.
"Miss Vanderbilt?" he asked, eyeing her carefully.
"I know. You see, I do not really need to talk. All I need is sleep, and then I will be perfectly fine. You can just prescribe me something for that," Aliana replied.
Dr. Noah fell silent for a moment before he leaned in. "So, you have been having trouble sleeping? May I ask why?"