The Antidote Wife

Chapter 5:=Watchful eyes

Donte Russo’s pov-

The office is silent.

Floor to ceiling windows frame the city below, but the lights are dimmed. I prefer it that way. Darkness sharpens focus.

The only illumination comes from the wall of monitors in front of me.

And her.

Nina Evans moves across the security feed in soft, restless motions. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She adjusts papers on her desk. She frowns slightly at her computer screen.

Ordinary .Painfully ordinary and yet I cannot look away.

I lean back in my chair, steepling my fingers beneath my chin. The cameras capture every angle of the building hallways, elevators, entrances, offices. A simple acquisition. A quiet investment months ago I own that building and many more .

At the time, it means nothing.

Now it means everything.

She forgets her lunch today.

I notice the way her shoulders tense when her supervisor scolds her. The way embarrassment colours her expression. The way she straightens her spine afterward, determined not to crumble.

Resilient.

I zoom the feed slightly. Not enough to distort. Just enough to study the details others miss.

The golden brown undertone in her skin under fluorescent lights.

The discipline in the way she double checks her work.

The flicker of distraction that crosses her face when my name is mentioned.

She feels it.

Not consciously.

But she feels the shift.

Matteo stands beside my desk, hands clasped behind his back. He doesn’t ask why I request a full profile on a mid-level employee. He doesn’t question why I personally review departmental footage.

He knows better.

“Her supervisor rates her competent,” Matteo says evenly. “Consistent. No disciplinary record.”

“She will need protection,” I murmur.

Matteo pauses. “From what, sir?”

I don’t answer.

From me.

On the screen, Nina glances toward the conference room as if sensing eyes on her. The movement is subtle ,but it is there.

Interesting.

My jaw tightens.

For centuries I master control. Empires rise and fall under my direction. Men kneel. Kings negotiate.

Yet a woman who doesn’t even know who I am in this world unsettles me.

The dream connects us before reality does. A thread pulled tight across space and time. She stands in my doorway. She breathes my name without knowing it.

And now she sits beneath my cameras.

Unaware.

Mine to observe.

Mine to decide.

I rise from my chair and move closer to the monitors, the glow painting my office in cold blue light. The city behind me pulses, but it feels distant compared to the quiet intensity in her small office cubicle.

“She leaves at six,” Matteo says.

“I know.”

My reflection overlays her image on the glass screen. Predator and prey sharing the same frame.

But she is not prey.

She is something else.

Something chosen.

“Have the car ready,” I say softly.

Matteo nods once. “Yes, sir.”

On the screen, Nina exhales and rubs her temples.

Tired.

Vulnerable.

Unaware that the most dangerous man in this world is memorizing the way she breathes.

I reach out, my fingers hovering just above her image , an image taken when she was in her room laying on her back , if only she knew.

“Soon,” I murmur.

And for the first time in centuries , I feel like my dull days have some to an end .

I feel so much anticipation.