I've Always Been Watching You

This chapter is written from Angkasa's point of view.

The first time I saw her was when she came into the café. Her gloomy face made me frown slightly. The lifeless expression she wore showed that she didn't care about the whispers around her. She entered with a downcast look, staring blankly at the menu board, completely unfazed by the bustling crowd.

"What would you like to order?" I asked, breaking the silence after waiting for quite some time for her to speak. That afternoon, there weren't too many customers in line, so I didn't mind if this girl took longer to decide.

"One chocolate milkshake and one strawberry cake," she replied, her voice trembling slightly, as if holding back tears. I was taken aback.

I paused for a moment before calculating her order. "That'll be fifty-four thousand rupiah(around 3 dollars)," I said, checking the price on the register. She nodded slightly and paid right away. Before I could say anything else, she had already turned around and walked off to find a seat. Table number 9, huh?

I immediately started preparing her order. I had two other employees working with me, but for some reason, I felt the urge to make her order myself.

"Lorry, take this to table number 9," I instructed as soon as one of my workers entered the kitchen.

"Got it, boss!" Lorry replied energetically. She neatly arranged the chocolate milkshake and strawberry cake on a tray before heading out with a cheerful demeanor to deliver the order.

I couldn't shake off the image of that girl's sorrowful expression. I just hoped she would enjoy her food, though a lingering sense of worry remained in my chest.

A few days later...

Ding!

The bell above the door chimed as someone walked in. The rain was pouring heavily today, so there weren't many customers around.

I lifted my head briefly to see who it was, and without realizing it, my eyes were fixated on her. She had returned. For three consecutive days, she had come in at the exact same time—around 3:30 PM.

She took off her slightly damp coat and hung it on the rack near the fireplace, where I had set up a spot for wet clothing to dry faster.

I had deliberately designed my café to match the weather. When it was scorching hot outside, I kept the indoor temperature cool, but on cold days like this, I made sure the room was warm and cozy.

"One chocolate milkshake with a strawberry cake," she said. Again, the same order as before. Her face still bore that same gloom, completely indifferent to her surroundings. She paid and, as usual, sat at the same table.

It's freezing outside. Doesn't she want something warm? Maybe coffee? I wondered, furrowing my brows as I thought about the terrible weather.

I stepped into the kitchen and started preparing her order. For some reason, once I finished making the milkshake, I added a final touch—a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top.

'I hope she likes it,' I thought, staring at the same menu she had been ordering over and over.

Since Lorry was out sick and Alvian had gone out to run an errand, I figured it was best if I delivered this order myself.

Tap! Tap! Tap!

"Oh, boss, where are you going? Wait, that order—isn't it for...?" Alvian's voice stopped me as I stepped out of the kitchen.

"It's for the girl at table number 9," I answered briefly without slowing my pace.

"Huh? Table number 9? Wait is Nad here?!" Alvian suddenly exclaimed. I glanced at my barista with a blank stare, slightly surprised by his loud reaction.

"Ehehe, sorry, boss. I meant, the girl you're talking about—her name is Nadia. She's actually a regular here. Looking at the tray you're holding, I'm sure of it—she always orders that," Alvian explained.

I nodded, deep in thought. Had Alvian known her before? My employees were all friendly, but Alvian was particularly popular with customers due to his cheerful nature. Meanwhile, I preferred to stay in the kitchen, preparing orders.

"Boss, let me take it to her instead. I haven't seen Nadia in a while," Alvian offered without waiting for my response. He swiftly took the tray from my hands. Before I could ask more, he was already out, delivering the order.

Curious about how Alvian seemed to be acquainted with this girl—who always looked distant and expressionless—I decided to step out and observe from behind the counter.

Wait… she's laughing?

My eyes widened slightly as I watched her laugh—her bright, melodious laughter filling the air. Her expression had softened, and she looked so... beautiful. Sweet. Whatever Alvian had said, it had transformed her usual gloomy demeanor into something light and joyful.

The rain outside continued to pour, its coldness seeping into the air. But here, my eyes were locked onto the girl who had been coming to this café so often—now smiling and glowing with happiness.

One week later...

I sighed, wiping away beads of sweat from my forehead. My left hand patted my shirt, brushing off some coffee grounds that had stuck to it. Today, a new shipment of coffee beans had arrived, and I had just finished sorting them all out. The midday heat was intense, and I figured my three employees were probably struggling at the front counter.

I glanced at the clock—almost 2 PM. As I locked the storage room door, I faintly heard the sound of someone crying. The sobs were coming from the gazebo, the resting area for my employees.

Who could it be? Lorry? I wondered. She was the only female employee here. The other two, Alvian and Darius—who was my right-hand man—were both male.

I quickened my pace and was shocked to find Alvian crouched down, trying to comfort someone. It looked like he was attempting to calm a person who was sobbing uncontrollably.

Huh? Isn't that the same girl who's been coming here all week? Why is she crying?

I stopped at a distance, leaning against a tall palm tree as I quietly listened to their conversation.

"I-I… hiks… I failed again. They mass-deleted all my published works… hiks… Arina and the others laughed at me… hiks… They mocked me while burning my novels… hiks..."

Her trembling voice carried her pain, sending a pang of something indescribable through my chest.

I stood frozen, listening to her heart-wrenching sobs.

Even after Alvian and the girl left, I remained in place, feeling an unfamiliar tightness in my chest—a strange ache, as if I could somehow feel her pain.

"I hate seeing her cry..." I whispered, clenching my shirt tightly, crumpling the fabric as if I could physically grasp the agony she was going through.

-----

5:05 PM…

I sat at the counter, occasionally glancing at the clock on the wall and the door that swung open every time someone walked in. It was already past 5 PM, yet that girl still hadn't shown up. I found it a little odd. I wanted to ask Alvian, but…

"Sigh…" I saw Alvian just return from delivering an order, letting out a long sigh as he stood not far from me.

"If you're tired, you can take a short break," I offered, even though I knew Alvian had already taken quite a long break earlier in the afternoon. However, he just shook his head, refusing, and rested his head slightly on the counter beside me.

My tongue tingled with the urge to ask why the girl hadn't come today, but I hesitated. Alvian might not answer directly—in fact, he could turn the question back on me with something strange instead.

"I feel bad for Nad..." Alvian suddenly said, surprising me. I had just been thinking about asking, yet he spoke up first.

"Nad? Who's that?" I asked, trying to follow along.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, boss, do you remember the woman who often comes here, always ordering the same menu every time? Her name is Nadia. She's about two years older than me, maybe," Alvian replied, pausing for a moment to think.

I simply nodded in understanding.

"What happened to her, this Nadia?" I asked again, curious.

"She came here earlier, looking like she was holding back tears. At first, she didn't want to talk about it, but after I insisted, she finally told me the truth," Alvian said, pausing briefly before continuing. "Her novel got mass-pulled from the market due to a lot of negative responses from readers. The publisher suffered losses, though… not all the books were returned. But the worst part? Arina, one of her fellow writers and supposedly her friend, incited others to burn the returned books right in front of Nadia while mocking her…"

Alvian fell silent for a moment as if he was still processing the events he had just shared. "Before that, Nadia was already feeling frustrated and overwhelmed because many readers bought her novel only to return it later, claiming they felt deceived. The price was too high for content they felt didn't meet their expectations."

I listened intently to Alvian's words. Once he finished, he went to the back for a moment and then returned, holding a book in his hand. I frowned as I looked at the cover before Alvian continued.

"But in my opinion, Nadia's novel is actually quite interesting. Although, yeah, it does seem a bit unrealistic—the way it portrays the mafia. A kind and honest mafia? That feels a little exaggerated," Alvian chuckled. "Because in most stories or movies, mafias are always linked to the underworld, right? And in real life, that's exactly how it is."

I let out a small scoff at Alvian's remark but didn't say a word.

Silence fell between us for a while. I was lost in thought, processing everything he had just told me. That must have been an incredibly tough time for her.

"Can I borrow that novel?" I asked Alvian, eyeing the book in his hand. Alvian simply nodded and handed it to me.

The doorbell rang, signaling a new customer had arrived. I quickly made my way to the back, heading for my private room. My three employees could handle the customers without me being there.

Click!

I turned on the light and lit the fireplace, then settled into a chair near the warmth to begin reading the book I borrowed from Alvian. My fingers traced over the cover, feeling the image of a grown man, before my eyes landed on the title printed on it.

"Adrian, the Mafia Who Saved Me."

I furrowed my brows, feeling like the name Adrian was oddly familiar. Or was it just a coincidence? There was no way my father had ever met Nadia, right? I shook my head slightly and returned my focus to the book in my hands.

●●●●●

"Sir, here are the documents you requested."

I simply nodded as I took the papers and began reading them. My eyes scanned quickly over the information gathered by my trusted subordinate.

'Huh? Fire victim? The sole survivor? But wasn't my father the only survivor? And this…' My fingers clenched the papers tightly. The fire from ten years ago left deep scars on everyone, especially the victims' families. But I had always thought my father was the only one who survived. Of course, they had covered it up in the media, preventing any scrutiny over who and what had caused the fire.

"Have you confirmed everything? And why aren't the parents' names listed here?" I asked in a flat tone, staring at Darius, who remained standing upright before me.

"Apologies, sir. I have confirmed all the details according to the information I obtained. According to the data I found, no one knows the names of the girl's parents. Even her remaining family chose to keep the case tightly sealed, without any further investigation."

I scoffed at Darius's explanation. So this had truly been buried deep—even the public had no knowledge of who Nadia was, the other survivor besides my father.

My eyes traced the details about Nadia again. My brows knitted together as I focused on specific information. In a level, unwavering voice, I spoke, "Darius, go to Macron and tell him I'm ready to inject funds into his publishing company." My order was firm and emotionless, my gaze still sharp as I stared at Darius, who stood before me with a neutral expression, showing no reaction.

"Understood, sir," Darius replied, bowing slightly before quickly leaving the room.

I stood up and walked toward the large window in the center of my office, watching the city buzz with life under the golden hues of the setting sun.

'Solar Publishing, huh?'