Chapter 4
1119 Words
Tricia’s POV
The heat from his hand burned into my skin, making me feel nervous. I stayed frozen on the floor, looking up at him. In the dim office light.
Tyrone’s eyes were not just dark, they were sharp and searching, like he was hunting for something.
“Who are you, Tricia Green?” he whispered, his voice was low.
“I… I’m your employee, Mr. Black,” I said, my voice shaking. My heart was pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it.
He didn’t let go. His thumb moved slowly over the soft skin of my wrist, right over my fast-beating pulse. “I look at you and I see…” He paused. “I hear your voice and remember things I shouldn’t. Why do you look at me like you expect me to hurt you?”
"You're imagining things," I breathed, trying to pull away.
He leaned closer, his face just inches from mine. For a moment, the CEO disappeared, and all I saw was the man from five years ago… the one who had held me until the sun came up. My eyes closed on their own, and my body leaned into his warmth.
Bzzzt! Bzzzt!
The vibration of my phone on the carpet broke the tension. I flinched, snapping my eyes open. Tyrone’s gaze dropped to the screen.
INCOMING CALL: MAXWELL ❤️
The name on the screen, with the bright red heart, seemed to shine in the dark office. Tyrone didn’t just let go, he pulled his hand back like it had burned him. The soft look in his eyes disappeared, replaced by the same cold, hard stare he always wore.
"Go home, Ms. Green," he said, his voice flat and empty. "It seems someone is waiting for you."
I scrambled to my feet, my face burning. I grabbed my phone and bag, not even looking back as I fled the office. I didn't answer the phone until I was inside the elevator, my breath coming in gasps.
"Max? Hey, baby," I whispered into the phone.
"Mommy! Are you coming? I made a big tower with my blocks!"
"I'm coming, Max. I'm almost there." I leaned my head against the cold metal of the elevator. I had survived tonight, but the look on Tyrone’s face told me the peace wouldn't last.
The next morning, the Black Group building felt different. The air smelled like serious business and secrets. I walked to my office, my heels clicking on the floor, trying to look confident even though I didn’t feel it.
"Good morning, Tricia. You look... delicious today."
I stopped in my tracks. Caesar Chavez was standing at my office door, leaning on the frame. He held a cup of coffee in one hand, a crooked, sluggish smile on his face. His eyes scanned me slowly, stopping at my waist before looking back at my face.
"Good morning Mr. Chavez," I said, my voice tight. "You’re in my way."
"So formal," he chuckled, stepping closer instead of moving. He reached out, his fingers grazing the fabric of my blazer.
"You know, Tyrone usually hires women who are... let's say, more Julia’s type. Loud, blonde, and empty-headed. But you? You’re a mystery. And I’ve always loved a good puzzle."
"I'm here to work, not to be your puzzle," I snapped, trying to brush past him.
He moved with me, blocking my path. He leaned down, his breath warm against my ear. "You shouldn't be so cold, Tricia. In this building, friends are hard to come by. And I could be a very... useful friend to a girl like you."
"I don't need your help, Mr. Caesar."
"You don't?" He straightened up, his eyes flashing with something dark.
"I saw you leaving Tyrone’s office last night. You looked quite shaken. If he’s giving you a hard time, you know where to find me. I have a much softer touch."
"Get out," a voice boomed from behind us.
We both turned quickly. Tyrone was a few feet away, his face full of anger. His hands were tight into fists at his sides, and the power coming off him made the air feel heavy.
"Tyrone! Just welcoming the new talent," Caesar said, raising his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. He gave me one last lingering look before strolling away, whistling a tune as if he hadn't just been threatening me.
Tyrone didn't speak to me. He didn't even look at me. He walked straight into his office and slammed the door so hard the glass walls vibrated.
I spent the next four hours buried in files, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my head.
Around noon, Angela tapped on my glass door.
"Ms. Green? Mr. Black has gone to a lunch meeting with his father. He asked me to tell you to reorganize the physical archives in the back vault. He wants them sorted by the end of the day."
Was this a punishment? No! It had to be. Reorganizing the archives was a job for an intern, not a Senior Executive. But I couldn't complain. I nodded and headed to the windowless room at the end of the hall.
The vault was filled with rows of floor-to-ceiling shelves. I began moving boxes, my mind drifting back to the previous night. I was so distracted that I didn't notice a small, dusty folder fall from a top shelf when I shifted a crate.
It landed at my feet, spilling its contents.
I knelt to pick them up, but my hand froze. It was a private investigator's report from five years ago. There were photos of the nightclub where I had met him. There were interviews with bartenders.
And then, I saw it. A handwritten note clipped to the back of a photo of the dance floor.
‘Client insists on finding the woman from the 14th. He claims she stole something. Not money. Not jewelry. He said she stole the only thing that mattered.’
“What?”
I froze for a second. He had been looking for me. All this time, I thought he had forgotten, but he had spent thousands trying to track me down.
"Looking for something, Ms. Green?"
I jumped, nearly knocking over a stack of files. Tyrone was standing in the doorway of the vault. He wasn't supposed to be back for another hour.
He walked toward me, his steps slow and deliberate, his eyes fixed on the folder in my hand.
"I...
it fell," I stammered, trying to shove the papers back in.
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
- Writer
