Chapter Text
Reader
“I still can’t believe you managed to secure a flat in the Mirage,” your mother mentioned as she helped you to pack your final luggage. Honestly, it was a surprise for you as well. You heard that having a spot in the Mirage can be quite challenging given how the requirements are needed and how expensive to live there.
Nothing is ever expensive for you and your son’s safety. The Mirage has the best security amongst all apartment complex buildings and you wish that your mother could come with you but she insisted that she’ll be fine on her own.
You could only stare at your luggage, hands on your hips. “The best when it comes to safety, I heard. You know, you could still move in with us, mom.”
“I’ll be fine,” she dismisses you with a light wave and a small chuckle, her wrinkles creasing by her eyes. “I don’t want to leave this house just yet, filled with so many memories, don’t you think?”
“Well.. yes.”
“You and Evan have to experience having your own place.” She places a hand on yours, cupping it with her wrinkled hands, “You deserve having some decent privacy too because your old hag is always visiting your own room.”
“Nothing that I can’t handle,” you hug your mom tightly. You’ve always been the closest to your mom after your dad died before you were even a teen, “I promise to call you when I can.”
“Miss me but not too much, okay?” She kisses your forehead. “Your mom is still strong enough so don’t worry a lot. Worry about your son instead, he’s becoming more playful nowadays.”
Evan is your only kid, giving birth to him at age 30 alone. Your ex-boyfriend ditched you when he found out you’re pregnant so you had to come back to your mother’s for support. Now that five years have passed, you’re ready to live on your own with your five year old son. Honestly, giving birth to Evan was the best thing that happened to you despite the circumstance of conceiving him.
You grew to love your kid when you were swollen with him. Apparently, someone told you that you’re having a pregnancy glow if you’re having a boy and the opposite if having a girl. You’re not even sure if that sounds misogynistic or just plainly true but your obgyn doctor told you that the baby’s gender cannot be defined by pregnancy glow.
“Mommy!” your son called out for you, all ready with his small backpack and a beaming grin on his face. He really does look like you when you were at his age. “Are we going now?”
You could only chuckle at his excitement, “Yes. Go and say bye to grandma first then we’ll go.”
While you wait by the doorstep, you pull out your file organizer from your bag. You have to check it one more time before you leave permanently from your old house. Whatever documents the Mirage needs, you comply with it immediately to prevent stress and conflict to face when you get there before they give you the house keys. When your son finally holds your hands as you walk to the cab, you feel that it’s going to be a great start.
And honestly, it did! As soon as you arrived at the Mirage, with your son gawking inside as his tiny hands molded against yours, you were approached by the Mirage staff kindly and assisted you with the rest of your belongings.
However, it wasn't the receptionist who asked for the documents to show. After Evan ran first to the apartment leaving you in the hallway, you couldn't help but to stop in your tracks when you saw the person who gave you the opportunity to live in the Mirage.
“Mr. Harper,” you uttered, your hands already reaching for the documents he asked for as per agreement. “You're just in time. I was about to request one of your staff to hand out the file to you on my behalf.”
“Ms. Kincaid,” he greets back. Always in his tuxedos, whiskey eyes that glares down to everyone. “Thank you for your quick compliance. I'd rather not let you hand it out to any of the staff that are not involved in security.”
He finally took the documents in his hands, scanning it briefly before looking at you again, “I hope you would enjoy your stay here.”
“Having so many expectations here in the Mirage, I am sure client satisfaction is always at five stars.” You gave a sharp smile before excusing yourself, “It was nice meeting you again, Mr. Harper.”
“Likewise, Ms. Kincaid.”
You knew how to keep a conversation short and simple whenever necessary. Christian Harper never looked like a person who would keep discussions long unless needed. A man with a few words, you could tell. You met people like him in your line of work that you don’t seem too intimidated by his presence.
A business transaction. That’s all you need to keep in mind. Besides, you’re about to enter a new environment and a new routine with your five year old son who seemed too ecstatic about the spacious apartment. You scanned the entire room and while you’re in awe about the whole thing, you still have so many things to do.
Unpacking your belongings and cleaning some areas inside because you’re not a fan of letting a housekeeper inside, probably cook dinner afterwards and set up the bed covers because Evan is starting his first day of kindergarten tomorrow, and get used to the new arrangement of this luxurious apartment.
No point in greeting your neighbors anyway, at least not now. You’re the only one who has a decent lifestyle and could immediately tell that your social class with the people living here is miles away. Especially the one who owns the Mirage and that big deal of a security company, it’s only sensible that this apartment building only chooses those who swim in money.
You only managed to get in because of your clean documents and good payment history, no criminal records, and because of your current job. You work for an international company assigned as a head in HR so you mostly dealt with the hiring process, payroll, and keep some of employee records.
Your assistant covered for you as soon as you asked for a two-day work leave just enough to adjust and fix your new apartment.
“What do you think of our new house, Ev?” You glanced over at your son, who helps you by attempting to fold his clothes along with you, “You like it?”
“Yeah! It’s just ours?” He asked, “We’re going to live here permanently?”
You only hummed, folding down clothes as you faced him with such a happy grin. “We are! Is it okay with you?”
“I’ll miss grandma but I know she’s happy for us,” he grabs another pair of his shirt, “and she told me that I can always call her after.”
“You know how grandma can get,” you stifled out a light-hearted chuckle. “She’s always looking out for us, doesn’t she?”
“She loves us, mommy.”
“Yeah, we love her too, baby.” You kissed his forehead, telling him afterwards to grab his favorite pair of pajamas before helping him with his night bath. You didn’t have enough energy to cook a proper meal so you opted to call for dining service to bring it up to your room for the first time.
The contract says that everything in the Mirage, once you get in there and have your own flat reserved, is fully accommodated. The housekeeping, the amenities and maintenance. It was worth it to move here and you seem to grow likeness here. You live in one of the upper floors so it only makes sense that the rent is expensive but really, with your kid growing up and you settling your life, the rent is only a blur.
Christian
Three years. It took three years for him to move on from a heartbreak which he caused himself. Perhaps it's for the best, for him and for Stella. That no butterfly should be ever caged for someone like him, her wings became too weak to fly but strong enough not to come back anymore.
Invasion of privacy. That's all it took to break months worth of a romantic relationship. He knew he didn't deserve her so he sulked for a year while getting nasty remarks coming from Stella's friends.
Even Alex Volkov's consultation towards him, telling that Stella is one of the kindest people out there and that she would forgive him as long as he gave her time, gave him the slightest hope that she will.
She never did.
She saw the dossiers and that is unforgivable.
During the first year of his great depression, Christian broke a slight promise he had given her: leaving her alone. He didn't contact Jules or whatnot, or even order Brook around to check on her. It took the slightest temptation of his burner account to inform him that Stella is going to be okay. He heard somewhere that Ava asked a favor from Alex so that he would keep an eye on Stella for the meantime.
Something about sisterhood.
He'd still track her stalker down despite their shortcomings. He could still protect her from afar; that Stella will always be his first, only, and last love.
The New Year's Eve was his redemption. Albeit not going to stop his usual demeanor given that he owns a security company and immoral deeds, he had to work with himself up. Had to drown himself with missed work, tight schedules, lesser sleeping, and much more secluded towards his peers.
Alex and Brook took care of everything on his behalf when he had no desire to live for a whole year. The fact that he didn't kill himself immediately was already a feat himself.
For a possessive man like Christian Harper whose lifeline left him, it numbed his only beating heart for the woman he loved for the first time.
And love is a strong word that his tongue left a bitter taste on it.
Stella Alonso had moved out from the Mirage one month after their breakup. Tore him apart wholeheartedly.
Been three whole years and the apartment that used to be hers is empty and still is. Available. Christian contemplated he was about to close that specific room down until he heard a woman inquiring her interest in the Mirage.
It was odd that she decided to consult right when it was New Year's as soon as the clock hit midnight. The receptionist of the apartment complex was nowhere near to be found at that time so he had to approach her.
He can't mix his emotions with business dealings.
That woman turned out to be you.
“The first strike of midnight in New Year's and you're spending it here,” he suddenly uttered, standing behind you as you jolted in surprise slightly.
He saw how you turn your back, your eyes glancing where the voice is before meeting his whiskey ones.
“Spending it here for the purpose of shelter,” you remarked and he was amused by it.
He scans you from head to toe quickly. Huh.
Under ten seconds, he could tell you're around his age.
That's a first.
Christian leans by the wall, crossing his arms as he proceeds to ask you questions, “It's not that simple to seize an apartment here from one go.”
You gave him a wistful smile, pulling out your file organizer and handing him it. He took that organizer as he flipped the pages, a bit of a raised eyebrow.
Typically, clients are given two weeks to settle the needed information and compile it to a charter before the Mirage accepts it.
You never know it but Christian has a good impression of you immediately.
“I didn't come here unprepared,” you said, “I plan to move in this place a week after New Year's.”
Detailed yet concise information. All necessary things. Direct to the point and organized. Labelled with tags and bullet points. The charter at the back is attached with her personal information, photocopies of valid IDs and any other necessary forms to be filled up.
“Downpayment and advanced payment,” you mentioned, pointing your finger at a specific page, “is already secured and sent to the official bank account.”
Christian closed the file, placing it on the counter. “Well then. It's not going to be a problem.”
He knew you were a bit skeptical of him based on your body language. Christian isn't one to just do any kind of formal handshakes but he felt like he was obligated to after meeting a competent client for once.
It was a bit unusual for him to encounter one. He often sees them as small fry but you make it seem that you're not.
“Great,” you offered a firm handshake towards him and he accepted it, much to his own internal surprise. “____ Kincaid. And you are?”
“Christian Harper,” he replied back with a husky tone.
Once you leave the building, Christian watches you briefly before fishing out his phone.
Right. Change of decision.
That apartment is going to be yours, he made up his mind.
It felt a bit illegal in his system that he's doing this for someone he barely knows but Christ. For once, you felt like a sudden breather as soon as you acquired a place in his building, the Mirage.
He looked over the file you handed to him again. 35-year old woman. Single mother. Head of an HR team of Topline International. Graduated in University of Oslo.
Three years of moving on and he's denying himself that he finds you intriguing. Christian Harper refuses to ask for romantic advice to Volkov but someday, he might have to.
He's still confused, granted, but any of these days he will see you in a different light.
Does he care the slightest? No.
Reader
You just came back after you brought your son to his first day of school in kindergarten. You offered to stay for a little while if he wants to but Evan insisted that he's a big boy now.
There's still so much to do and you're stuck with a few more boxes. One thing you haven't expected is that Mirage is fully furnished. Sure, you expected a provided bed, bathroom tub, and other essentials inside a home.
But not to the point that it's almost fully stocked. At least it didn't provide clothes or bed covers. The thought of someone using it before you send you shivers. Even if it's washed multiple times, you wouldn't wear or use it even to your own son.
Anyway, you took out your phone and shuffled through the numerous photos you took of Evan from his first day of school. Couldn't believe that your baby grew up so fast. You still vividly remember how perfect your son was when he arrived in this world.
He cried and cried only to calm down when he was handed to his mother. You sobbed when you held him in your arms, that little bundle of joy is your son and you'd do anything to keep him away from harm.
A mother was also born and you, too, grew along with Evan.
You sent the pictures to your mom before you tidy up the rest of your belongings. It only took you three hours to consider yourself moved in completely. The apartment looks so much better and you decided that you’ll re-decorate it when you have the time to, plus Evan likes designing with you so that’s another bonding time with your son.
It makes you happy enough that your son took more of your traits than his biological dad. Your ex-boyfriend wasn’t abusive to you, no, but his insecurities took over him. The moment you started to earn more money than him, his fragile mindset turned him into a pathetic man and he dragged you with him. Instead of improving, you decreased with him.
The lowest point he did was to leave you when he found out you were pregnant with his kid, and broke up with you through the phone without closure. Felt shitty because you never dated your ex for his money because there wasn’t any. It’s not like you were rich in the first place. You two were flat broke when you started to live together by your middle twenties.
Sure, your family isn’t totally in poverty or rich, but somewhere in the middle, so decent that you managed to study in a university in Norway with your uncle sponsoring you since the institution does not offer scholarships at all.
You owe your uncle everything for your education but he was kind enough to tell you there was no need, seeing you as his daughter as he and his late wife couldn’t conceive due to health problems.
Either way, you are where you are right now and you’re not taking it for granted. Appreciating what life gives you, and if lemons are thrown at you, you make lemonade. Unless it was thrown with malice, you don’t let it slide.
The one thing about you and your family is that you do not tolerate people taking advantage of you or even raise their voice. Anything that happens badly will result in a worse injury towards the bastard. So you figured that as soon as you saw your ex-boyfriend again, you'd probably march towards him and dismantle his joints.
You’re going to pick up Evan from his kindergarten so you still have a few hours to throw your garbage bags outside, do some quick groceries, and probably visit the laundromat for your dry-cleaning. You wore your thick coat and grabbed your satchel before going outside.
Looking through your phone and by the weather app, you didn’t expect it to rain so soon. You wish to go back and take your umbrella but the thought of going inside for another trip in the elevator is making you complain. That was the only con the Mirage gave you, though you’re thankful that it’s not even stairs.
“Ms. Kincaid,” a deep voice mentioned your name and you tried to find where the source is from.
You saw a black McLaren in front of you as you stood by the small staircase in front of the entrance of the building, the black tinted window from the vehicle slowly rolls down as you can see your landlord— would you even consider him one? — by the steering wheel, arm resting by the steering wheel.
“Mr. Harper,” your voice greets him slightly formal.
He observes you quickly before speaking again, “It looks like it is going to rain anytime. Do you have somewhere to be?”
“Errands,” you replied, raising your voice a bit just so he can hear it from his side. “I’ll be taking a taxi eventually. How about you?”
You stepped forward and leaned a bit by the glass, your eyes meeting his. It’s not pleasant to have a ridiculous distance for a simple and casual conversation like this one, you find it inappropriate especially when you’re talking to a man who got you a spot in the Mirage.
“Get in, I’ll give you a ride.” He briefly told you but you noticed a hint of an order as if you have no choice.
Still, you remained your manners. “There are cabs everywhere, are you not having your personal errands?”
When you did not receive a reply from him, which you thought was a bit rude but shrugged it off quickly, you tapped the car handle as if asking him whether it’s open or not. You heard a click inside, opening the door as you got in swiftly and buckled your seatbelt. You’re not one to hold pettiness and it’s not even a big deal.
The clouds hold thunder already and you’re thinking about Evan. He’s usually a fan of rainy weather but the thunder spooks him the most. You just hope that it’ll stop sooner before his first day of classes comes to an end.
“ I got in your car so answer my question?” You mentioned with a slight asking tone, your satchel resting on your lap.
Christian locked the door as he pushed a button near his driver’s seat, turning a dial on the dashboard as heat poured out from the vents, making your skin warm as he started to drive smoothly.
His gorgeous car is perfect, inside and outside, and while it is not your first time riding one, it is one of the rarest ones that someone takes care of their vehicles. There was no speck of dust or lint, food crumbs on the floor, or any cloggy mirrors. It smelled of exquisite spices that you can associate with a man like Christian. He has high standards for everything, it seems.
“I have my own meeting to attend to in an hour,” he finally replies to your question. “Just happened that I saw one of my tenants looking so lost.”
“Not lost,” you almost frowned but shaking it off immediately, “I forgot my umbrella and contemplating whether to go back or not. But I live on the tenth floor and that’s already tedious.”
“The elevator exists, ____.” He mentions, his eyes looking at you by his rear-view mirror.
You glanced back at it as you curtly responded back, “Point taken. But I still won’t go through that, would you?”
He tugs out a husky chuckle, eyes focused on the road as he stopped momentarily by the red light. “Getting an umbrella for my own tenant? Well, that’s exclusive service.”
You roll your eyes in feigned mockery, changing the subject smoothly. “I’ll stop by the supermarket, Christian.”
You figured you can call out his name like that. It’s only fair, he did yours. Before he could answer, your phone vibrated an incoming call as you excused yourself, the car moving as it shifted to a green light.
“Hello, yes, this is Evan’s mother,” you uttered. “Oh! Really? Alright, I’ll go there. Thank you.”
Your eyes are trying to look for a spot where to park quickly, making Christian notice your slight fidgeting in your seat. With your current impression of him, he probably thinks that Evan is the name of your son. Of course, you included that information before you submitted the documents to him.
You placed your phone back inside your satchel, nodding over the side. “Sorry. Change of plans. You can drop me off by this sidewalk.”
“Any particular reason?” He slows the car, an idle standby in the parking space.
“My kid got an early dismissal, I’ll have to pick him up before the weather gets worse,” you chuckled dryly, “Thank you for the ride, though.”
You were about to get out but the door won’t open so you looked at him by your shoulder as you eyed towards the door post.
“Where is he studying?” You heard him say deeply, a low rumble in his throat as you felt shivers in your skin.
Going back to your seat as you buckle your seatbelt once again, you quirked your eyebrow as you responded slowly, “Truesdell.”
He revved the engine, continuing to drive. You couldn't basically read his mind in totality but you could hunch that it's too much of a hassle that you take a cab when Truesdell seemed to have a relatively far distance from the Mirage.
The entire trip to your son's school was silent and you couldn't tell whether the atmosphere was awkward or not. You honestly couldn't bother much since the clouds are getting darker as it passes.
“I thought you had a meeting…” you glanced at your wrist watch, “...in less than an hour?”
“Can't start without me,” he replies smoothly.
It was easily dissolved when it fell silent once again. Working in a company and encountering different types of bosses, you just assumed that he's the type to take his own time.
One that doesn't believe that rules are meant to be followed because he only makes it. He only follows the rules he set for himself and that others can fuck off.
That's just how it is nowadays, you noticed. You couldn't care enough but still be bothered about the hypocrisy of some people. The double standards were making you sulk whenever you thought about it.
Suddenly, he was the one who broke the silence in his own car.
“Have you finished settling your things in?” Christian is referring to the Mirage.
You thought about it for a second, “Just recently this morning. Which floor do you live on?”
“Above yours,” he looked at you in the rear view mirror.
Ah. So it's the eleventh.
As if the arrival on the destination was also embarked by a light thunder, you and Christian reached Truesdell as he parked his black car inside.
You didn't have time to bid Christian another gratitude and goodbye for the car ride as you saw your son sitting on a bench with his teacher.
You saw how Evan's eye lit up when he recognized that you're running towards his direction, making you halt briefly as you opened your arms to hug him as he ran to you before thanking his teacher for accompanying your son.
You glanced back over your shoulder, half expecting that Christian probably left. But he didn't and you thought to yourself that you should extend your gratitude to him later.
Christian
Christian was never a jealous man, no. Nor envy. Yet he would lie to himself that the sight of a mother openly expresses affection towards his son did not affect him. He felt a turn in his chest, squeezing as if it were to jolt his heart from beating.
He had mothers and fathers that inquired about his apartment building and he never felt anything whenever he saw his tenants showing familial affection towards each other.
But you? Oh, you're a different one.
He watches you and your son approaching his car as quickly as you can, prompting him to get out of his seat as he extended his assistance by opening the back door for your son to enter.
As you hiked on the passenger's seat, Christian took a brief scan on your son without you knowing. It's not technically his first time seeing Evan since you attached his picture on the documents you gave him but it is his first time seeing him in person.
Evan Nolan Kincaid, a five year old boy who is raised by his single mother. First time ever that he let a child come sit inside his car and it's all because of you.
He finally went to the driver's seat, revving the car as he drove you guys back to the Mirage. You turned around to ask about your son's day at school, telling him to behave as you referred to him as the kind landlord of the apartment.
Evan was told not to trust any stranger and he is quite behaved inside the car.
Christian hid a smirk. If he ever plans to get to know you better, he might as well use your kid to his advantage.
This is the most ethical thing he will do and he never opted for most legal ways. There’s no harm in this, not at all. The road trip was silent afterwards as Evan fell asleep on the backseat, making you slouch your back a bit as Christian took a quick glance at you at the rearview mirror.
Perfect.
He’s going to skip his meeting, for now. Fuck that. You’re intriguing him too much.
Whatever happens, he’s sure as hell not going to mess this one up. All the guilt washing over him had been waved and replaced quickly as soon as he saw you.
His little dove.