3
701 Words
Camilla didn’t react to the nickname.
Didn’t even glance at him.
Her attention stayed exactly where it had been.
On Hayes.
⸻
Liam noticed.
Of course he did.
⸻
“Shipment goes missing,” Liam continued. “No warning. No trace. Internal systems are clean. External contacts are quiet.”
He crossed his arms.
“What happened?”
⸻
Camilla didn’t answer immediately.
She stood instead.
Slow.
Deliberate.
⸻
Not nervous.
Not rushed.
⸻
Hayes’ eyes tracked the movement.
Every inch of it.
⸻
Camilla stepped closer to the desk, her gaze shifting briefly—taking in the room, the layout, the invisible structure beneath it.
Then back to him.
⸻
“Internal breach,” she said.
⸻
Liam let out a short scoff. “That’s your guess?”
⸻
“It’s not a guess.”
⸻
Her voice didn’t rise.
Didn’t push.
It didn’t need to.
⸻
“No external noise means no external interference,” she continued. “Which means either your operation is incredibly lucky…”
Her eyes met Hayes’.
“…or someone on the inside knew exactly how to make it look clean.”
⸻
Silence.
⸻
Liam’s expression shifted—just slightly.
⸻
“Keep going,” Hayes said.
⸻
Camilla nodded once, then glanced toward the windows.
“You rely on control,” she said. “Structure. Predictability.”
Her gaze returned to him.
“That’s your strength.”
A pause.
“But it’s also your weakness.”
⸻
Liam let out a low whistle.
“Careful—”
⸻
“No,” Hayes cut in quietly.
“Let her finish.”
⸻
His eyes hadn’t left her.
Not once.
⸻
Camilla stepped closer.
Not enough to challenge him.
Enough to enter his space.
⸻
“If I wanted to hurt you,” she said, her voice steady, “I wouldn’t come from the outside.”
A beat.
“I’d make you trust me first.”
⸻
The room went still.
Completely.
⸻
Something changed in Hayes’ expression.
Not anger.
Not offense.
⸻
Approval.
⸻
Then he stood.
⸻
Slowly.
Deliberately.
⸻
And suddenly—
The distance between them wasn’t distance anymore.
⸻
He walked around the desk.
Each step measured.
Controlled.
Until he stopped just in front of her.
⸻
Close.
Too close for an interview.
Exactly close enough for something else.
⸻
Most people would’ve stepped back.
Camilla didn’t.
⸻
Their eye contact held.
Unbroken.
Charged.
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“Do you know what happens,” Hayes said quietly, “to people who betray me?”
⸻
His voice wasn’t raised.
Didn’t need to be.
⸻
Camilla held his gaze.
Didn’t blink.
“I assume it’s not a second chance.”
⸻
Liam barked out a laugh behind them.
Neither of them reacted.
⸻
Hayes’ eyes flicked briefly to her mouth.
Then back to her eyes.
Like he’d noticed something he wasn’t ignoring.
⸻
“Smart,” he said.
A pause.
Then—
“Job’s yours.”
⸻
Camilla blinked once.
Not confusion.
Recalibration.
⸻
“That’s it?”
⸻
Hayes didn’t step away immediately.
Didn’t break the space between them.
⸻
“No,” he said quietly.
“That’s the beginning.”
⸻
For a second—
It didn’t feel like he was talking about the job.
⸻
Then he stepped back.
Just enough to restore structure.
Not enough to undo what had just happened.
⸻
“If you work for me, Miss Duval,” he continued, “you don’t get to pretend you don’t know what this is.”
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“I don’t.”
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“Good.”
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His gaze hardened slightly—but something underneath it remained.
Something sharper.
More personal.
⸻
“Because there’s no halfway in my world.”
Camilla nodded once.
“I wouldn’t take the job if I wanted halfway.”
⸻
That same dangerous smile returned.
Quieter this time.
More controlled.
⸻
“Liam will get you settled.”
⸻
Liam shook his head, pushing off the wall again.
“Boss,” he muttered, “you just hired your own problem.”
Hayes’ eyes didn’t leave Camilla.
⸻
“Maybe,” he said.
A beat.
“Or maybe I just found something worth the risk.”
- Writer
