Lola

“Good evening, Bella.” Some people say the devil has horns, red skin, and looks like something monstrous enough to warn you from a distance to stay away from sin.

But if you asked Jenevieve Sienee, she’d tell you the devil looks like a thirty-year-old man in a tailored suit, a sharp jawline, and a smirk so smug it could ruin your entire day.

Or, more simply, Christopher Sturniolo.

“What do you want, Chris?” Jenn sighed, not looking up from her laptop as her fingers kept moving across the keys. “I’m working.”

“I can tell,” He sounded almost amused, pushing off the doorway, as he walked in as he owned it. He stopped at her desk, but Jenn kept her eyes on the screen. She wasn’t giving him that satisfaction. A cup was placed beside her laptop. “You know,” he added casually, “if you tie up that bun any tighter, you might actually cut off circulation.”

Jenn’s grip on her mouse tightened. She always wore her hair in a tight updo during working hours. “And if you keep talking, you might lose yours,” she replied flatly, finally glancing up at him, “when I strangle you, I mean.” 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Chris smiled down at her, “I do love a woman in charge.” 

Jenn ignored him, not giving in to his sexual innuendo. She wasn’t new to his teasing. Instead, her eyes dropped to the cup. “What’s that?”

Chris nudged it closer to her. “Your dad told me to give it to you.”

She picked it up, already knowing. The smell confirmed it—brown sugar cinnamon latte, hot. Exactly how she liked it. A content sigh slipped out before she could stop it, and she took a sip.

Christopher Sturniolo being in her father’s building wasn’t unusual. He was there more often than not for meetings and conversations that didn’t include her but somehow always circled back to him. 

What was unusual was how often he found his way to her office, which was located across the hall from her father. In his terms, he was “checking in.” But in hers, he was just being annoying. 

She had taken her place at her father’s company a few years ago, at twenty-three. As the only child of Richard and Kitty Sienee, it had always been expected of her. She had a good relationship with both her parents; they were supportive in their own way, but that didn’t mean she was free in every way. Which is how she ended up in a job she hated, and excelled at anyway

Chris lingered by her desk a moment longer, unmoving, his gaze steady as he studied her like he had all the time in the world.

“You know,” Jenn said, finally glancing up at him, “my father has assistants. I don’t understand why he keeps asking you to bring me coffee.” This wasn’t the first time Chris had delivered her coffee. 

“I’m usually near his office,” he replied easily, hands slipping into his pockets. Then, after a beat—“And it’s not exactly an inconvenience. I’ll always make time to see you.” Jenn let out a quiet groan, dropping her gaze back to her screen. “See?” He grinned and replied to her groan. “Charming as always.”

“Whatever,” Jenn rolled her eyes, ignoring the way her heartbeat had picked up. “You can go now. I’m actually busy—and I’m sure you have somewhere more important to be.”

Chris didn’t move.

Of course, he didn’t.

He was the CEO of his own company, and his office was only a few blocks from her father’s building. He had no reason to be standing in hers, lingering as he had nowhere else to go.

And yet, here he was.

Christopher Sturniolo hadn’t inherited anything. He built COS Security from the ground up, brick by brick, deal by deal, until his name meant something people didn’t question.

Security, at its highest level.

Private protection, high-end surveillance. He offered things that people with too much money and too many secrets were willing to pay for without hesitation. Bodyguards that didn’t fail. Systems that didn’t break. Luxury properties designed with privacy so airtight that they were practically invisible. 

And he was very, very good at it, which made it all the more irritating that he was wasting his time here. “Well, so?” Jenn finally looked up again, brows lifting slightly. “Don’t you have a company to run?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “I do.”

“Then go run it.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “You seem eager to get rid of me.”

“Chris, I’m really not in the mood right now.” Jenn turned in her chair, fully facing him now. “My dad just handed me a list of things that should realistically take a week, and I have emails piling up faster than I can answer them. If I don’t finish everything now, I’ll fall behind—and if I fall behind, I’ll—”

She cut herself off. Great. Now she was rambling. Jenn pressed her lips together, but when she looked up again, Chris wasn’t interrupting or making one of his usual comments. He was just… watching her.

There was something softer in his expression. Amused, maybe—but not in the way that made her want to roll her eyes. That was new. Before she could overthink it, her phone buzzed on her desk.

Chris’s eyes flicked to it automatically. Jenn reached for it, unlocking the screen and immediately felt heat creep up her neck as she read the message. See you tonight…

 “Alright,” Chris said after a second, straightening slightly. “I’ll let you—” He paused. Jenn didn’t notice at first. She was still looking at her phone, a small smile slipping onto her face before she could stop it. “…Who’s that?”

Her head lifted. “Hm?”

“You just got a text.”

“Oh—just someone. I have something later,” Jenn blinked at him, setting her phone back down a little too quickly. “Which is why I actually need to finish my work.”

“Something,” he repeated lightly. “Like what?” Gosh, why was he still here? “Meeting friends?” he added, tone casual, but there was something underneath it she couldn’t quite place. 

“Just a date.”

The word slipped out before she thought about it.

Chris’s expression looked like it didn’t change, but it did. It was too subtle for most people to catch. But Jenn had spent years watching him, whether she liked to admit it or not.

His posture stilled. His gaze sharpened just slightly. “A date…” he echoed, slower this time. Jenn shifted in her seat, suddenly aware of the weight of his attention again. “With who?”

“Just someone I've met,” She narrowed her eyes a little. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t, was just asking,” His response came out slow. Jenn nodded slowly, like she accepted that answer, even if she didn’t really believe it. She had just started typing again when his voice cut through the silence. “You don’t usually do that.”

She looked up at him, one brow lifting. “Do what?”

“Go on dates, Rosa.”

She frowned immediately.

Gosh, she hated when he did that. Sometimes it was bella, sometimes rosa, like she was supposed to understand the difference. Either way, she hated the way he called her whatever the fuck that meant.

She scoffed lightly, shaking her head. “I’ve been on plenty of dates.”

“Plenty…” he repeated, slower.

“Yeah,” Jenn turned back to her screen, forcing her tone to stay light. “It’s not exactly a rare concept, Chris.” She added casually, “You should try it sometime. Might help with that permanent scowl you’ve usually got going on.”

Chris didn’t budge at her comment. Okay weird. 

“So…” he drawled after a moment, “Who’s the lucky guy?” His voice was so sarcastic, she wanted to strangle him. That was the second time that thought popped into her head today.

She turned in her chair again, fully facing him now, brows pulling together. “Why are you so hung up on my date? Is it that unbelievable to you,” irritation crept in, “that I don’t spend all my time locked in this office or at home?”

His jaw shifted slightly. “Of course not. I just didn’t take you for someone who wastes her time on pointless dates with men who only want one thing.”

“Excuse me?” Her voice came out sharper now, louder than she intended. “You don’t know anything about my dates. The men I’ve met have been perfectly pleasant.”

Chris raised a brow, unimpressed. “Have they?” There was something almost mocking in it. “Then why do I get the feeling none of them have made it past a second date?”

She wanted to wipe that look off his face. What made it worse was that he wasn’t entirely wrong. Most of the men she’d gone out with had wanted something. Usually, a climb up the status pole or sex. 

And no, none of them had made it to a second date. Yet. But he didn’t need to know that.

“That’s not your concern,” she snapped, lifting her chin slightly. “Maybe I just have standards.”

Chris’s gaze sharpened. “Standards?”

“Yes,” she said coolly. “Something you wouldn’t understand, considering you don’t date at all.”

“Don't be ridiculous. I've been on fucking dates. I just choose not to,” A flicker of irritation crossed his face. “I don’t see the point in wasting time that could be used for better things,” he said evenly.

“Right,” Jenn let out a dry laugh. “Because no one’s ever been worth your time, is that it?” That tiny hesitation in his gaze made something in her push further. “Or is it that you just don’t know how to date or love?”

“You seem pretty confident for someone who can’t even manage a second date,” he said, voice lower now. “So maybe I should be the one asking you if you don't know how to date.”

“At least I try,” Jenn’s eyes narrowed. “You hide behind your work like it’s the only thing that makes you interesting.”

Another pause.

“You think that's my reasoning for not dating?” he asked quietly. 

“I think...” she continued. She had already insulted the man once; why not a second time? “...that you don’t want to settle because you wouldn’t know what to do if someone actually expected something real from you.”

There it was.

That one hit deeper than the others. Chris didn’t move. Didn’t react the way he usually would. His gaze held hers, but there was something underneath it now.

If he were anyone else, she wouldn’t have said it.

But this was Chris. The man she’d been compared to for as long as she could remember. The man who walked into her life ten years ago and, somehow, managed to outshine her in every way that mattered.

Years of doing everything right, everything expected felt like it counted for something. Until he showed up and suddenly, it didn’t.

If she made dean’s list, it was “So did Christopher when he was in college” If she brought a new idea to her father, it was “He already suggested something similar.” If she worked harder, stayed later, pushed herself further, Chris had already been there and already done it.

She didn’t have siblings to compete with. But somehow, she’d still lost.

Chris finally took a step back, creating distance again. “I have work to get back to.” All that earlier teasing and amusement in his features was gone.

She didn’t miss the way his shoulders squared a bit; he always did that when he felt tense. “Yeah, you should.”

He gave a small nod, turning toward the door, and just as he reached for it, it opened. Both of them froze slightly.

“Ah—Christopher, I thought you’d already left.” Her father stepped into the office without hesitation, “Our meeting ended half an hour ago.”

“Yes, sir I was just leaving.” He gave a polite nod, composed as ever. “I’ll see you in a few days.” Then he was gone. Jenn watched the door for a second longer than she meant to before forcing her attention back.

“Hi, Father,” she said, offering a small smile as he approached her desk.

“Hello, darling.” He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Almost done? I’ll need those files within the next few minutes,” he added, already scanning her desk for what he came in for.

“Of course.”

He moved around her office with purpose, picking up a folder from the side table, barely pausing before turning back toward the door.

“Oh, and thank you for the coffee, I didn't know you knew my order.”

Her father stopped, “Coffee?”

She blinked, lifting the cup slightly from her desk. “The cinnamon latte. Chris said you asked him to bring it.”

Her father’s brows pulled together, confusion settling in. “I didn’t know you liked cinnamon with your coffee, dearest. I didn’t ask him to—”

A knock at the door interrupted him. “Sir, they’re waiting for you,” someone said from the hallway. “Your meetings starting.”

Her father sighed lightly, glancing between his daughter and the door. “We’ll talk later, darling. Love you.” And just like that, he was gone too. 

Confusion filled Jenn's gaze as she slowly looked at the cup in her hand.

Brown sugar cinnamon latte. Exactly how she liked it. Exactly when she wanted it.

ceyana’s note: we are back !! get ready to dive deep into meeting jenn and chris really soon <3 i love you, mwah