THE UNEASINESS
688 Words
**Fiona’s POV**
The next morning, Fiona woke with the sunlight pressing against her eyelids, the alarm buzzing uselessly from the bedside table. She slapped it off and dragged herself up. Her limbs felt heavy again — exhaustion she had already started blaming on overtime and LA traffic.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from Zara.
**Zara:** *Wake up, lazy girl. We have deadlines, remember?*
**Fiona:** *I’m awake* 🙄
**Zara:** *Liar. I’m getting you coffee. Don’t make me regret it.*
**Fiona:** *Bless you.*
Zara was the kind of friend who barged into your life and refused to leave.
Loud, dramatic, loyal — the polar opposite of Fiona’s quiet reserve.
Fiona showered, pulled her hair into a loose bun, and slipped into fresh clothes. As she left, she caught her reflection — her cheeks a little fuller, her skin a little warmer. She shrugged it off. Stress did strange things.
And then, of course, there was *him*.
Alistair.
Her stepbrother.
The man who appeared in her dreams with a darkness she should fear — but didn’t.
Every morning, she told herself she was over that night.
Every afternoon, she reminded herself what he was — what he controlled.
Every evening, she accepted she was lying.
Zara plopped a cup of iced coffee on Fiona’s desk and perched on the corner like a cat ready to pounce.
“Girl, explain the glow.”
“There is no glow.”
“There is a glow,” zara insisted. “You look like someone dropped you into a romance novel.”
Fiona snorted. “Unless there’s a romance with spreadsheets, no.”
Zara leaned in, eyes narrowing.
“You disappeared for one night three months ago. A whole night. Then came back looking like you’d been set on fire and rebuilt.”
Fiona’s breath stilled.
She had never told Zara the truth — that the man she had kissed, touched, whispered to in the dark hotel room was the same man who now only existed in silence on the other side of their complicated family name.
Zara had assumed it was a stranger.
Fiona had let her.
“Let it go,” Fiona murmured, forcing a smile.
“You owe me story time soon,” zara replied, wagging a finger.
Across the city, Alistair stood in the private gym of one of his safehouses, shirtless, fists bruised from hours of punching into reinforced leather.
He could break a man in thirty seconds.
Destroy an empire in thirty days.
But he couldn’t get *her* out of his head.
Fiona.
He had learned to swallow obsessions, but never silence them.
And she had been the loudest thing in his mind for three months.
His phone vibrated.
**Gregor (right-hand man):** *Boss, the shipment’s been secured.*
**Alistair:** *Handle it.*
**Gregor:** *And the girl? You still want updates?*
A pause.
Alistair clenched his jaw.
*Alistair:** *Yes.*
Gregor didn’t ask which girl. He already knew.
Alistair would never admit it, but he sent one of his men to make sure she was safe — nothing invasive, just enough to know she was breathing, unharmed, living an ordinary life that his world couldn’t touch.
Or so he told himself.
He had rules.
Lines.
Personal boundaries he did not cross.
But every morning he woke up wanting to break them for her.
Every night he closed his eyes remembering her nails dragging softly down his neck… her breath whispering, “I don’t even know your name,” even though she had already suspected.
He was her danger.
Her forbidden sin.
And she was his weakness.
"Lunch Break "
Fiona sat outside with Zara under the shade of a mango tree near their office. The air smelled of roasted corn and car exhaust.
Zara talked non-stop. Fiona listened, laughed. Everything felt normal—almost.
Until a wave of nausea hit her out of nowhere.
She froze.
The world tilted.
Zara blinked at her.
“Hey… you okay?”
Fiona swallowed, shook her head, and forced a smile.
“Just hungry.”
But the unease lingered — a quiet drumbeat under her ribs.
Something was coming.
Something that would shatter everything she called ordinary
- Writer
