The Past Returns
Celeste sat at her desk, focused on reviewing the latest reports when she noticed something strange.
Adrian was staring at her.
Not discreetly. Not subtly. Just outright staring.
She tried to ignore it. She really did.
But after five minutes of feeling his intense, unwavering gaze, she slammed her pen down and sighed. "Do you need something, Mr. Sinclair?"
Adrian didn't even blink. "No."
She squinted at him. "Then why are you looking at me like that?"
A small smirk played on his lips. "Am I not allowed to look at my secretary?"
Celeste groaned. "I knew you hated me, but do you have to make things this difficult?"
Adrian tilted his head, feigning innocence. "Difficult? How?"
She huffed, crossing her arms. "Like making your secretary's life miserable. If you have issues with me, fine. But leave my job out of it."
His smirk widened. "You've been giving me names, haven't you?"
Celeste gasped. "What?! I would never—"
Adrian leaned back in his chair, amusement glinting in his gray eyes. "Liar. What do you call me, Celeste?"
Her lips pressed together.
She absolutely could not tell him she had been referring to him as "The Devil in Prada" or "Dictator Sinclair."
Adrian arched a brow. "Well?"
Celeste cleared her throat, grabbing a random folder and flipping through it. "I have work to do."
Adrian chuckled. "Mm. Then make me a coffee."
Her head snapped up. "What?"
"Coffee. From my personal pantry. The one at the very end of this floor."
Celeste narrowed her eyes. "You have a coffee machine right here."
Adrian's smirk didn't waver. "And yet, I want you to make me one from my pantry."
Celeste gritted her teeth. Petty. Absolutely petty.
But she was professional. Dignified.
So, she stood, marching out to make his stupid coffee.
——
The first coffee she made was perfect—just the way he liked it.
But the moment Adrian took a sip, he frowned. "Doesn't taste right. Make another one."
Celeste's eye twitched.
Fine.
She made another one.
"Too sweet."
Another.
"Too bland."
Another.
"Not hot enough."
Another.
"Too hot."
She stomped back into his office with a Starbucks cup this time.
Adrian stared at the logo, then at her. "You bought coffee?"
Celeste crossed her arms. "Yes. Since my coffee apparently offends you."
Adrian sighed. "Celeste. If I wanted Starbucks, I would have asked for it."
Her fingers twitched around the cup. She was two seconds away from throwing it at his face.
But no.
She was civilized.
Barely.
So, on her nth attempt, she came up with an idea.
A brilliant, evil idea.
She dumped an obscene amount of sugar into the coffee. Then added extra coffee. And when she spotted the salt, she added a generous spoonful for good measure.
Sweet revenge.
She strolled back into the office, finding Adrian already waiting at the door with an innocent smile.
"Took you long enough," he teased. "If you're tired, you can rest on my lap."
Celeste smiled sweetly. "Not tired at all. In fact, I loved making this coffee for you."
Adrian narrowed his eyes then walked to the couch, lifting the cup to his lips.
And then he hesitated. "You did something to this."
Celeste bit back a grin. "What? I made it with love. It should be perfect."
Adrian exhaled sharply, then leaned back in his couch, watching her intently. "This, Celeste—this is me making things difficult. This is what it looks like when I'm actually picking on you."
She blinked, caught off guard by his sudden seriousness.
His voice softened, but there was a weight behind his words. "But those things you've been doing recently? The reports, the emails, the project proposals—I'm not picking on you. I'm teaching you."
Celeste stiffened.
Adrian leaned forward, his gray eyes locking onto hers. "You said you wanted to enter business. So I'm making sure you learn everything I know."
The sincerity in his gaze was undeniable.
For a moment, Celeste forgot everything else.
Forgot about the petty arguments, the years of resentment, the bitterness.
Because right now, Adrian wasn't the cold, ruthless businessman.
He was simply a man—one who wanted her to learn, to grow.
Her heart skipped a beat.
And then—
She remembered what she put in his coffee.
Her eyes widened in horror just as Adrian lifted the cup again.
"Wait—"
Too late.
He had already sipped.
Silence.
A long, dangerous silence.
Then—
Adrian choked.
His entire face twisted in horror as he grabbed a tissue, coughing. "What the f—Celeste!"
Celeste ran.
She bolted out the door, laughing uncontrollably, while Adrian's furious voice echoed after her.
?
Surprisingly, working as Adrian's secretary wasn't as terrible as she expected.
Sure, he was strict and relentless, but he was also fair. He didn't treat her like a pampered wife. In fact, he treated her just like any other employee—which made her realize how much she had underestimated him.
She was learning.
Navigating board meetings, handling reports, anticipating Adrian's needs before he even voiced them—it was a challenge.
And she liked it.
Even more surprising? The hostility between them had lessened.
She found herself watching him more.
The way his sleeves were always rolled up neatly, the way his fingers drummed against the desk when deep in thought.
And Adrian—though he rarely showed it—was starting to let his guard down.
For the first time in years, Celeste wondered...
Would it be so bad to give him another chance?
She hated that the thought even crossed her mind.
But then, fate reminded her why she should never hope.
?
That afternoon, Adrian stepped out for a meeting, leaving his phone on his desk.
Celeste was finishing up reports when it buzzed.
ETHAN CALLING.
Her brows furrowed.
Ethan was Adrian's best friend. He wouldn't call unless it was important.
The phone kept ringing.
She hesitated—then sighed and picked it up.
"Hello—"
Ethan's excited voice cut in. "Adrian, man, you won't believe this. Emily is back."
Celeste froze.
Her grip tightened around the phone.
Ethan kept talking, oblivious.
"She just landed. I just got off the phone with her. She said she wants to see you—"
Celeste stopped hearing the rest.
Her mind reeled back to the conversation she had overheard weeks ago.
"You know I would've married her if I could."
Emily.
Adrian's first love.
The woman he wanted to marry instead of her.
A cold wave of realization crashed over Celeste.
Nothing had changed.
All these past few weeks, she had allowed herself to hope.
To believe that maybe—just maybe—Adrian was beginning to see her differently.
But in the end...
She was still the unwanted wife.
The phone nearly slipped from her hands.
"Adrian?" Ethan's voice came through the speaker. "You there?"
Just then, the door opened.
Adrian stepped in, his eyes immediately narrowing as he saw her holding his phone. "Who are you talking to?"
Celeste's throat felt tight.
She didn't answer.
Adrian's frown deepened. He strode forward, snatching the phone from her hand. "Hello?"
A brief silence.
Then, his entire expression shifted.
Celeste didn't wait.
She turned on her heel and walked out.
Because she already knew.
Adrian Sinclair still loved another woman.
And she was done being second choice.