Chapter 8:Eyes That Watch
952 Words
The first sign came in the form of flowers.
They arrived just after noon—white lilies, elegant and excessive, placed carefully on Lyra’s desk. No card. No sender.
She stared at them for a long moment, unease curling in her stomach.
“Those are beautiful,” a colleague said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Secret admirer?”
Lyra forced a polite smile. “Must be a mistake.”
She stood and carried the flowers toward the reception area, handing them off to the intern.
“Please put these in the common lounge.”
“Of course.”
As she turned back toward her desk, she felt it.
That sensation of being watched.
She glanced instinctively toward Dominic’s office.
The door was open.
And standing just inside it was a woman Lyra had never seen before.
Tall. Elegant. Expensive in a way that couldn’t be learned—only inherited or earned ruthlessly. Her dark hair was styled perfectly, her heels sharp against the marble floor. She was smiling.
At Dominic.
Something in Lyra’s chest tightened.
“Miss Hayes.”
Dominic’s voice came through the intercom moments later.
“Please bring the afternoon files.”
Lyra inhaled once, steadying herself.
“Yes, sir.”
She gathered the files and walked in.
The woman turned first.
Her eyes swept over Lyra slowly—measured, assessing.
“So this is her,” the woman said.
Lyra froze.
Dominic’s expression darkened. “Vivienne.”
“You didn’t deny it,” Vivienne replied smoothly, lips curving.
“Because there’s nothing to explain,” he said.
Lyra stepped forward, placing the files on the desk with careful precision.
“Miss Hayes,” Dominic said evenly, “this is Vivienne Laurent. Board consultant.”
And—Lyra sensed instantly—something more.
“Pleasure,” Vivienne said, extending her hand.
Lyra took it. “Likewise.”
Vivienne’s grip was firm. Dominant.
“I’ve heard so much about you,” Vivienne added lightly.
“I’m surprised,” Lyra replied. “I’ve only been here eight months.”
Vivienne smiled wider. “Oh, that’s plenty of time to make an impression.”
Dominic cut in sharply. “That will be all, Miss Hayes.”
Lyra nodded and left.
But her pulse didn’t slow.
Vivienne stayed for hours.
Lyra could feel it—her presence lingering like perfume in the air, like tension wrapped in silk. Every assistant knew her name by evening. Every executive seemed suddenly alert.
By the time Vivienne finally exited Dominic’s office, Lyra was exhausted.
Vivienne paused at Lyra’s desk.
“You’re very composed,” she said.
“It’s part of my job.”
“So is discretion,” Vivienne replied. “I hope you understand how important that is in this building.”
Lyra met her gaze. “I do.”
“Good,” Vivienne said softly. “Because not everyone survives curiosity.”
Then she walked away.
Lyra’s hands trembled.
That night, Dominic found Lyra in the records room.
She was standing between shelves, arms folded tightly around herself.
“She was intentional,” Lyra said before he could speak.
“Yes.”
“She knows.”
“Yes.”
“Who is she really?”
Dominic exhaled. “An ally of the board. And… my past.”
Lyra turned to face him fully. “Your past?”
“She wanted more than I could give.”
“And now?”
“And now she wants control.”
Lyra’s voice was steady, but her heart wasn’t. “Over the company—or over you?”
Dominic stepped closer. “Both.”
Silence settled between them.
“She’s dangerous,” Lyra said.
“So am I,” he replied quietly.
She searched his face. “Do you still have feelings for her?”
“No.”
Not hesitation. Not evasion.
Truth.
Lyra let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“She’ll come after me,” Lyra said.
“Yes.”
“Then what do we do?”
Dominic reached for her hand, squeezing gently. “We stay ahead of her.”
Vivienne didn’t wait long.
The next morning, Lyra was summoned—alone—to a private lunch meeting.
Vivienne was already seated when Lyra arrived.
“I thought we could talk without… interruptions,” Vivienne said pleasantly.
Lyra sat across from her.
“I admire you,” Vivienne continued. “You’re calm. Intelligent. You don’t overreach.”
Lyra remained silent.
“But you’re in a dangerous position,” Vivienne added. “Men like Dominic don’t fall—they pull people down with them.”
“I didn’t ask for your concern.”
“No,” Vivienne agreed. “You didn’t.”
She leaned forward slightly. “But I’m offering you advice.”
“Which is?”
“Leave.”
Lyra’s spine straightened. “I won’t.”
Vivienne’s smile faded—just a little.
“Then be careful,” she said. “Because when this collapses, it won’t be him they blame.”
Lyra stood. “I’m not afraid of standing alone.”
Vivienne studied her for a long moment.
“We’ll see,” she said softly.
That evening, Dominic arrived at Lyra’s apartment again.
This time, he didn’t hesitate.
“She threatened you,” he said.
“She warned me.”
He cupped her face gently, anger burning beneath his calm.
“I won’t let her touch you.”
“I don’t need saving,” Lyra said, though she leaned into his hand.
“I know,” he said. “But I want to anyway.”
That was when Lyra realized—
This wasn’t just forbidden love anymore.
It was war.
And Dominic Ashford was no longer silent.
- Writer
