CHAPTER THREE — THE MAN WHO WATCHED HER TOO CLOSELY
1426 Words
Amara’s new office was sleek, minimalist, and far too quiet.
A glass desk, a high-end computer, shelves lined with files arranged with almost obsessive neatness—everything about the space screamed control. Precision. Perfection.
Just like Adrian.
She sat down slowly, running her fingers across the smooth glass surface. It didn’t feel like a place for someone like her—someone with no past, no memory, no identity. It felt like a place designed for someone important.
Someone known.
Someone expected.
She glanced at the frosted glass wall separating her office from Adrian’s. His silhouette moved inside—tall, sharp, pacing like someone carrying the weight of ten secrets too heavy to speak aloud.
Her computer blinked on automatically.
New Assignment from A.R.
Her heart skipped.
She opened it.
Draft a summary of Rhodes Global’s upcoming security conference.
Research current cyber threats targeting political officials.
Do not share this task with anyone.
— Adrian
Her brows furrowed.
Cyber threats? Political officials?
Why would he give her something so sensitive?
She barely knew how to operate the corporate system. But as she clicked through the database, something strange happened.
Her fingers… remembered.
She navigated encrypted folders, password-protected documents, restricted access files—effortlessly. Her hands moved faster than her mind, instinct guiding her through layers of digital information.
It was muscle memory.
Like she had done this before.
Like she had lived inside systems like these.
A chill ran down her spine.
Who had she been?
She didn’t have time to dwell on it.
Her office phone rang—shrill, loud, startling.
She jumped.
“Hello?”
“Don’t answer internal lines,” Adrian’s voice filled her ear immediately, controlled but sharp.
She blinked. “But it’s the office phone—”
“You answer only when I call you,” he said. “Or when I tell you to expect a call.”
Her breath caught. “Is… someone else trying to reach me?”
A pause. A hesitation.
Then: “Not anymore.”
Not anymore?
The implications made her skin crawl.
She swallowed. “Adrian, what exactly am I doing here?”
“You’re working,” he said simply.
“That’s not an answer.”
There was another pause. Longer this time.
Then, softer: “You’re safe. That’s what matters.”
Safe again. He kept using that word like it was supposed to comfort her.
Like it was supposed to explain everything.
But it only left her with more questions.
⸻
Hours passed, but she couldn’t focus. She kept glancing at Adrian’s dark silhouette through the frosted glass, pacing, pausing, typing, then pacing again.
Why did he look at her the way he did?
Why did her presence shake him?
At lunch, a timid knock sounded at her office door.
“Come in,” she said.
A young woman peeked inside—bright braids, warm brown eyes, a friendly smile. She wore a staff badge that read CYNTHIA — HR INTERN.
“Hi! I just wanted to welcome you officially,” Cynthia said. “You must be new.”
“Yes,” Amara said softly. “I’m Amara.”
“You’re Mr. Rhodes’ new assistant, right?”
The question wasn’t casual—it was shocked, curious, maybe even a little scared.
“Yes,” Amara replied.
Cynthia let out a low whistle. “Wow. Girl… you must have some kind of magic.”
“What do you mean?”
“In all my months here, I’ve never seen him hire a PA,” Cynthia whispered. “He doesn’t even let women onto this floor.”
Amara stiffened. “Why?”
“No one knows,” Cynthia said with a shrug. “Rumors say he’s cold-hearted. Others say he’s paranoid. And some say he had a—”
The frosted glass behind Amara shifted.
Adrian’s silhouette appeared.
Cynthia’s smile vanished. She straightened quickly.
“I should—um—I should get back to HR,” she stammered. “Nice to meet you!”
She disappeared before Amara could say another word.
The moment the door closed, the intercom buzzed.
“Come here,” Adrian’s voice ordered. “Now.”
Her pulse jumped.
She grabbed her access card and stepped into his office.
The atmosphere was different today—tense, heavy, like electricity was charging the air.
Adrian stood behind his desk, hands braced on the marble surface, eyes pinned on her.
“What did she tell you?” he asked.
His tone wasn’t angry—it was protective. Worried.
“She just said you don’t hire assistants,” Amara said carefully. “And that women aren’t usually allowed up here.”
Adrian’s expression hardened. “Ignore office gossip. They know nothing.”
“Then tell me the truth,” she said quietly. “Why me?”
His eyes locked onto hers.
A storm lived there—regret, relief, anger, longing.
“Because I trust you,” he whispered.
Her breath hitched.
“You don’t even know me,” she said.
“I know enough.” His voice was soft, broken at the edges. “And you trusted me once.”
Her chest tightened painfully. “What do you mean by once?”
“We’re not discussing the past today,” he said, turning away as if afraid of his own words.
“Adrian…” She took a step closer. “Do you know who I really am?”
He closed his eyes for a brief second.
“Yes.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. “Then tell me.”
He opened his eyes—and they were full of something fierce and wounded.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because knowing put you in danger the first time,” he murmured. “And I won’t let that happen again.”
The first time?
That meant… they had been here before.
Together.
Her voice came out shaky. “Did we know each other?”
Adrian looked at her like she was the beginning and ending of a war he’d been fighting alone.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “We knew each other very well.”
A shiver shot through her spine. “Were we… friends?”
“More than that.”
The room spun.
More than that?
Her voice trembled. “Were we lovers?”
Adrian’s jaw clenched—hard.
“We are not talking about that,” he said sharply. But the shake in his voice betrayed him.
She stepped closer—slowly, cautiously.
“So, we were.”
His silence was the only confirmation she needed.
Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
“Adrian,” she whispered. “What happened to me?”
He closed the distance between them in one swift, controlled step.
“You don’t want those memories back,” he said, his voice low, intimate, almost pleading. “Trust me on that.”
“How can I trust someone who hides everything from me?” she asked.
Adrian flinched—actually flinched.
Something flickered in his eyes.
“Because the truth,” he said softly, “almost destroyed you. And I won’t let it do that again.”
She swallowed hard. “Why are you protecting me?”
He looked at her the way a drowning man might look at his only lifeline.
“Because you’re the only person who ever looked at me like I wasn’t a monster.”
Her breath caught.
“And I won’t lose that again,” he whispered.
Silence swallowed the room.
Heavy. Charged. Fragile.
Then Adrian stepped back, breaking whatever spell had wrapped around them.
“I need you focused,” he said, regaining his hardened composure. “Finish the cyber report. Then come back here.”
She nodded shakily and turned to leave.
But before she could reach the door, his voice stopped her.
“Amara.”
She turned slowly.
He wasn’t near her anymore.
He wasn’t touching her.
But his voice—his eyes—felt like an unspoken confession.
“If anyone tries to talk to you today,” he said quietly, “no matter who it is, you come to me first.”
Her brows knit. “Why? Who would—”
“Just promise me.”
Something in his tone—something dark, terrified—made her chest tighten.
“I promise,” she whispered.
Adrian held her gaze for a long, heavy moment.
Then he said the words that made her blood run cold.
“You were found once,” he said.
“But they’re still looking for you.”
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