The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 72

Work Drama-3

“6 pm” she told him.”

He nodded once.

“I will arrange someone to pick you up.

The certainty in his voice made it clear this was not an offer.

Iva hesitated, unsure what the proper response was in a situation where a crown prince organized transportation for a dishwasher.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

He did not reply.

The locks disengaged with a soft click.

Before she could gather her thoughts, she was already stepping out of the car.

When she turned back-

He was gone.

The car had merged into traffic with silent efficiency, leaving behind only a faint trace of presence and a heart that refused to settle.

“Well, well.”

Iva startled violently.

Barb stood a few feet away, eyes gleaming with curiosity and mischief.

“Damn, girl,” the server drawled, looking after the disappearing vehicle. “Someone with a car like that drops you to work… and you’re scrubbing pans in the back?”

Heat flooded Iva’s face.

“It’s not like that.”

Barb grinned wider.

“They all say that.”

“Damn it,” Iva spoke in her mind, “just great.”

By lunch, everyone knew.

News in a restaurant traveled faster than flame through oil.

Whispers followed her down the corridor. Curious glances lingered too long. A few of the servers who had

once ignored her now watched with thinly disguised interest.

1/3

+25 Points >

<Work Drama—

Even Sergio paused when he saw her

He did not ask questions.

But one eyebrow lifted slowly before he simply nodded and told her to get back to work.

That was worse somehow.

The kitchen felt hotter than usual.

Or maybe it was just her.

Steam rose in heavy clouds. Metal clanged. Orders were shouted. Heat pressed against her skin like a living force.

Iva worked harder than ever, drowning herself in motion.

Scrub. Rinse. Stack. Repeat.

But concentration refused to stay intact today.

Caleb’s face surfaced in her mind again and again.

The intensity of his gaze.

The weight of his voice.

The impossible certainty of his presence.

The harder she tried to push him away, the sharper the memory became.

“Damn it,” she muttered, pressing a towel to her flushed face.

It was unbearably hot.

Her skin felt too tight.

Her heartbeat too loud.

“I need cold water,” she whispered. “Ice. A blizzard. A snowstorm”

Avalon hummed softly.

“You need your mate.”

“Absolutely not helpful.”

Just then, her phone vibrated.

She froze.

The sensation was so unfamiliar it took a moment to recognize what it was.

Slowly, cautiously, she wiped her hands and retrieved the mobile from her pocket.

Unknown number.

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