Capricorns♑

Who's she!

Arth

This morning, as I was heading to work, something—or rather, someone—caught my eye at the crossroad. The road was temporarily blocked to let my car pass, and there she was, standing patiently, waiting for the traffic to clear. The moment I saw her, it was as if time stood still. I couldn't tear my gaze away. I’ve never experienced anything like it before.

I’ve been on countless dates, some of the most extravagant you could imagine, and I’ve met women from all over the world. But none of them ever captivated me the way she did, effortlessly, without even knowing. Her dark, almost obsidian eyes were captivating, holding a depth and mystery that drew me in, as if they held secrets only I could unlock. Her fair skin, with just the faintest hint of a blush on her cheeks, gave her an ethereal beauty, like she had stepped out of a masterpiece.

Her hair moved with the breeze, gently framing her face in a way that seemed almost cinematic. It was a moment straight out of a film, where the heroine appears and everything else fades into the background. There was something so refined about her, a quiet elegance that made her stand out in the most understated way. Even in that fleeting moment, I could sense a perfect blend of sophistication and innocence, a combination so rare and utterly enchanting that it left me spellbound.

As my car passed by, her image lingered in my thoughts, refusing to fade. She haunted me in a way I couldn’t quite shake off, her face replaying in my mind, distracting me from everything else. By the time I arrived at the office, I was completely preoccupied. We were discussing plans to head to Mumbai the day after tomorrow since everything here was nearly wrapped up. The construction had started without a hitch, and all the necessary arrangements—security, accommodations, every detail—were under control. Dante was going over the agenda for the day, but I couldn’t focus. My mind kept drifting back to her.

What the hell is wrong with you? I scolded myself internally. This isn’t you. You’re acting like someone else entirely. It was baffling—I’m not the kind of man who gets distracted, especially not by a girl I saw for mere seconds. Back in Italy, people knew me for who I am—ruthless, unyielding, feared even by my father’s staunchest allies and enemies. I entered this world at 20, and since then, I’ve built a reputation on being relentless, cold, and calculating. And now? Now I’m acting like a love-struck fool over a girl whose name I don’t even know? It was absurd. I needed to pull myself together and remember who I am.

The day dragged on, and I achieved next to nothing. My thoughts were completely consumed by her, and by evening, I had reached my limit. Sitting at home, pacing like a caged animal, was driving me insane. I grabbed my car keys, desperate to get out and clear my head. Dante, always the voice of reason, stopped me on my way out, reminding me it wasn’t safe to roam the city without security. But I didn’t care. I needed space, and I needed to be alone.

I threw on a hoodie, pulled the hood over my head, slipped on a face mask, and even put on sunglasses. It was a ridiculous attempt at anonymity—sunglasses at night, of all things. But at that moment, I didn’t care how foolish I looked. I just needed to get away, to find some sense of clarity, even if it meant driving aimlessly through the city under the cover of darkness.

I hit the gas and sped off into the night, hoping the cool air would help me think clearly. But even as the city lights blurred past, her face kept surfacing in my mind. I kept telling myself to forget about her, that this was a distraction I couldn’t afford. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was different, that there was something about her that had cut through the armor I’d spent years building up.

The streets were nearly empty, the usual hustle of the city reduced to a quiet hum at this hour. It was a stark contrast to the chaos in my mind. I drove with no destination in mind, just an overwhelming need to escape—to escape her, or maybe to find her again. Either way, I wasn’t ready to face what was happening inside me. Not yet.