A BILLIONAIRE'S COMPELLING LOVE

UNDER HIS GAZE

Chapter 4: Under his gaze

Cielle woke with a start, her breath ragged and her pulse thundering in her ears. Her chest heaved as she fought to control the panic threatening to take over. The same nightmare—over and over, like a cruel loop she couldn’t escape. The screams. The explosion. Her parents’ faces, etched with pain before everything went dark.

But this time, there was no overwhelming heat, no suffocating smoke. The air was cool, and she realized with a jolt that she wasn’t in the alley anymore. She wasn’t alone, either. Her eyes darted around the unfamiliar room, and the plush surroundings gave her pause.

Luxurious. The furniture, the decor, everything spoke of wealth. Soft, pale lighting flooded the space, casting a warm glow on the thick rugs and velvet cushions. The bed she lay in was enormous, its headboard carved from dark wood, and the sheets—silk, she was certain—clung to her skin. It wasn’t the cold, impersonal place she had expected to wake up in after the chaos of last night. No, it was… peaceful.

But what really stopped her was the pair of eyes studying her.

Xavier. His intense gaze, always so purposeful, was now tinged with something that might have been concern for her. His eyes met hers in the silence, and for a long moment, neither of them moved. He sat at the edge of a plush armchair, his presence so commanding that it seemed to fill every inch of the room.

Cielle’s heart thudded, but it wasn’t from fear this time. It was the intensity of his gaze, as though he could see straight through her. She swallowed hard, pulling the duvet tighter around her body, as if that would shield her from the thoughts swirling in her head.

Xavier remained silent, watching her with a quiet intensity that made her stomach churn in ways she wasn’t sure she liked. She wasn’t used to being looked at this way, like she was the most important thing in the room. Like she mattered.

Finally, she spoke. Her voice was hoarse, still thick with sleep and the remnants of terror. “Thank you.”

Xavier’s lips quirked up slightly, the ghost of a smile on his face. He gave a subtle nod, but said nothing at first.

Cielle wasn’t sure why she felt this strange sadness bubble up inside her. Maybe because he hadn’t said more than that? She had been desperate for something, anything, more than just silence. A word. A reassurance. Something. Instead, she found herself staring at him, her eyes wandering down the length of his sharp, imposing figure.

She couldn’t help but notice how perfectly at ease he seemed in the plush surroundings. His crisp white shirt, open at the collar, the black jacket thrown casually across the back of the chair. He looked like he belonged here—like he belonged in every room he entered. If he’d stepped onto a Vogue cover, no one would bat an eye.

Cielle felt a sudden rush of self-consciousness. She pulled the duvet closer to her chest, hiding beneath it, as if it would shield her from whatever thoughts were racing through her mind. The makeup she’d failed to clean up last night had smeared under her eyes. Her hair, unkempt from sleep, was a tangled mess. She probably looked like a wreck, a stark contrast to the perfection of the man sitting across from her.

For a moment, she felt small. Unimportant.

Her thoughts wandered, and the questions began to pile up. Why had he helped her? She wasn’t anyone important. Just some girl with a boring life who worked menial jobs. So why take her to a hotel like this? It didn’t make sense. Was he expecting something in return? The thought made her stomach twist.

But then, as her mind went over his actions again, she realized something. His look… There had been nothing predatory in it. His gaze wasn’t one of a man looking to take advantage. And yet, the doubt still lingered in the back of her mind. But you can never tell…

Her grip tightened on the duvet as the uncomfortable feeling settled deeper into her bones. She couldn’t shake the thought that maybe he had brought her here for something—something she wasn’t ready for. The possibilities swirled in her mind, none of them reassuring.

Across from her, Xavier noticed everything—the way her face shifted, the tightening of her posture, the fleeting looks of uncertainty that passed across her features. His expression softened just a fraction, though it was still unreadable. He could see that she was far from comfortable, and it made something inside him stir.

She was always so careful at work, so distant. Mechanical. He had noticed that about her the moment they’d met. She didn’t let anyone close. Didn’t let anyone see her. But now, here, with him, she was raw, exposed in a way she didn’t even realize. The vulnerability was almost… delicate.

He couldn’t help the surge of protectiveness that rose within him. The way she shut herself off from the world. He didn’t like it. There was more to her—he knew it. And he was determined to figure it out.

“Go take a bath. It will calm you down,” he said, his voice low and smooth like silk. He didn’t wait for her to respond, instead standing and moving toward the door. But before he reached it, he turned back to her, eyes locking onto hers.

“I don’t want to sleep with you,” he said simply, a hint of humor in his voice, though his eyes were unreadable.

Cielle’s heart stuttered. The words seemed to hang in the air, thick with tension.

Not yet, anyway. She could see it in his eyes—he hadn’t said that last part, but she could feel it, as if it was written all over him. Her breath hitched involuntarily, and she didn’t know why. She was thankful, sure, but also a little embarrassed. It wasn’t like she’d assumed he’d want that anyway, but hearing him say it aloud just made everything feel too… real.

“I’ll get you something to eat,” he added, his smirk evident as he walked out the door.

As the door closed behind him, the silence in the room felt suffocating. Cielle let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, her fingers still gripping the duvet tightly. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about what had just happened—the way he had touched her, the way his gaze had softened despite his earlier coldness, the way he made her feel both terrified and safe all at once.

She didn’t know where this would lead. But at this moment, she couldn’t deny the pull. The pull she had felt ever since their first meeting. Something was drawing her to him, something that made her question everything. Something way beyond her normal.

Cielle stepped out of the bathroom, still wrapped in a soft white robe. The steam from the shower had helped to clear her mind, but the weight of everything still lingered. Her hair was wrapped in a towel, and as she stepped into the room, her eyes fell on the breakfast spread laid out on the table. There were croissants, eggs, fruit, and fresh orange juice—everything perfectly arranged, as if it had been waiting for her all along.

She hesitated for a moment, suddenly aware of how hungry she was. Her stomach growled loudly, breaking the silence, and she winced, hoping Xavier hadn’t heard.

But of course, he had.

Xavier, who had been leaning against the counter, turned his gaze to her, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Flower,” he said, his voice smooth as ever, “come eat. The food will get cold.”

His words seemed to pull at something inside her, and without thinking, she moved toward the table. Her fingers were almost trembling as she grabbed a piece of toast, and when Xavier poured the orange juice into her glass, she murmured a quiet “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, waiting for her to take her first bite.

She did, savoring the warmth and the rich taste. But as she chewed, her mind couldn’t stop racing. Her eyes flickered to the luxurious surroundings—this place, the extravagant meal, the fact that he’d already paid for everything. It was all so out of reach for someone like her, someone who got by with her menial jobs. She didn’t belong here, not really.

Her mind drifted back to her earlier thoughts, and before she could stop herself, the question slipped from her lips. “How much do I owe you for all this?” She twisted the rope of her robe nervously. “This should at least cost a couple hundred dollars. Right?”

Xavier looked at her, amused. He had expected a question but this wasn’t it. To her surprise, he burst out laughing—genuine laughter that made his whole demeanor shift. Head through back and hand over his tummy.

“I already paid the bill,” he said between laughs, wiping a tear from his eye. “You think I’m going to make you pay me back?”

Cielle blinked, caught off guard by his easy going response. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words caught in her throat. She wasn’t used to this, to someone doing something for her without expecting something in return.

Xavier, still chuckling, leaned back in his chair. “You can stay here for the rest of the day. Call in sick to work, or you can leave. But you’re not going to pay me back for anything, Flower.”

The quiet weight of his words settled in, and for a moment, Cielle didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to be a burden, but she also couldn’t deny how his generosity had unsettled her.

As if sensing her internal conflict, Xavier stood up, pulling his leather jacket off the couch. He threw it over his shoulder, his gaze lingering on her for a moment, as if measuring her reaction.

“I’ll see you around, Flower,” he said, his voice smooth but with an edge of finality. And just like that, he was out the door, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Cielle sat at the table for a moment longer, trying to absorb everything that had happened. Her fingers gripped the warm mug in front of her, but she barely registered the taste as she stared down at her uneaten food. Everything had changed in the span of a few hours. Her life had been thrown upside down, and yet, there was a part of her that couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning.

Maybe… she hoped. Maybe, it was a good beginning. She smiled, reaching out for a croissant.