Her Escape, His Obsession

Chapter 4

Steve’s POV

From the corner of the room, I watched her.

The new intern.

There was nothing remarkable about her at first glance, modest dress, nervous posture, the usual wide-eyed awe of someone stepping into JTR’s walls for the first time. But then she looked up.

And in that instant, the room shifted.

Those eyes. Steady. Unflinching. Almost defiant.

She held my gaze for longer than most dared, and for a fleeting second, I forgot where I was. As the HR officer droned on with introductions and she walked towards her desk, my lips moved on their own, forming her name like a secret.

“Tara.”

I needed an excuse to see her again. Picking up the phone, I told my assistant, “I’d like to address the new staff and interns. It’s important they understand what we expect of them.”

Minutes later, I stood before the group. I had delivered speeches to hundreds of employees, silenced auditoriums, commanded boardrooms filled with men twice my age. Presence was never my problem. But this time, it was different. My words were automatic; my focus was elsewhere.

Her.

She sat toward the back, pretending to shuffle files. Her hands trembled just slightly, betraying nerves she tried to mask. But her eyes… her eyes weren’t filled with fear or shallow ambition. They carried something else, something I couldn’t name.

By the time I wrapped up my remarks, my mind was nowhere near the projects or deadlines. It was on the girl who seemed determined to ignore me while pulling me in without even trying.

An intern, I reminded myself. One of many. And yet…

As the room dispersed, I scanned for her again, long after I should’ve been thinking about shareholder reports. And in that quiet certainty only I knew, I realized this wasn’t the last time our paths would cross.

Two weeks later.

Two weeks of burying myself in contracts and negotiations, convincing myself that my reaction to her was nothing more than curiosity. Yet every night, she surfaced. The defiance in her eyes. The slight tremor of her hands.

Two hours into my flight from Nairobi to London, I still hadn’t closed my eyes. The glow of the cabin lights washed the room in pale gold, but all I saw was her.

“Need anything? Maybe something to help you rest?” the flight attendant asked, hovering far too close.

“I’m fine,” I said curtly, loosening my tie.

I leaned back, staring at the clouds beyond the window. I had just finalized a deal worth millions, locked in a partnership competitors had fought tooth and nail to secure. It should have satisfied me. But instead, I was replaying a single glance from a girl who barely knew I existed.

Ridiculous.

She was just an intern. A college student. Someone with no idea of the weight I carried.

My life was built on precision. On control. Distractions were liabilities and I didn’t allow liabilities. Power I understood. Profit, competition, strategy, I could conquer all of it. But her? I had no strategy for her.

And yet, the more I told myself to stop, the deeper the fixation grew.

“Brian,” I said suddenly, pulling my phone from my pocket. My assistant blinked awake beside me.

“Yes, sir?”

“I need a background check of all the interns JTR has employed in the past month.”

He frowned. “Interns?”

“And a list of every college that has invited me to guest lecture in the last year. Especially Entry Level Engineering Entrepreneurship programs.”

“Sir, respectfully, your schedule for the next two years is locked. You don’t have the time for extracurricular activities. Not lecturing. Not..."

“Create time,” I cut him off. “Cancel meetings if you must. Forty-five minutes, once a week, that’s all I need. This is an important CSR initiative.”

Brian hesitated, baffled, but nodded.

I leaned back again, closing my eyes. I knew how it looked. Irrational. Impulsive. Unlike me. But I didn’t care. I needed an excuse to see her again, outside JTR.

Crazy. I was going crazy.

For the first time since I boarded my flight, sleep finally came.

“We weren’t expecting you back until next week,” Maria beamed as I stepped into London headquarters.

Maria, my middle aged secretary, carried a warmth that was refreshing, her smile a stark contrast to the cold glass walls surrounding us.

“We finished early,” I replied smoothly, returning her smile. “Besides, I missed your cheerful face.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Always the charmer.”

I moved quickly through the day, catching up on projects. Designs had reached their final stages, deadlines loomed, and our competitors were circling. Meetings came and went, my focus sharp at least, until Brian slipped a folder across my desk.

“Omotara Adeyemi,” I whispered to myself as I scanned the page. Several minor innovations for her rural community. Young, only 18 years old. From a poor background. Emperor College, London. Full scholarship. Bright. Ambitious. Different.

Beauty and brains.

“Maria,” I said, pressing the intercom. “Going forward, HR should ensure that all our College Interns are paid weekly and not monthly”

“Also, accept Emperor College’s request. I’ll volunteer as a lecturer for their Entry-Level Engineering program. Tuesdays, nine a.m. starting next week.”, I continued

She blinked in surprise. “Sir, you’ve declined them twice already...”

“Not this time,” I said firmly.

When the line clicked off, I leaned back, fingers steepled beneath my chin. What was I doing? I had no business interfering with HR policies or lecturing college students for that matter. No business rearranging my empire for the sake of an intern. And yet, the decision was made.

Surely it’s for a good cause, I lied to myself.

By evening, I had drained my energy into a final meeting with the project engineering team. We wrapped as the sun began to dip, spilling warm light across the London skyline. My office, perched above the city, offered a view most men would kill for. To me, it felt as though something was missing.

“Six o’clock,” I murmured absentmindedly, glancing at my watch.

I hadn’t seen her today. I would’ve noticed if she were here.

“I noticed some of the interns were missing,” I remarked casually to Maria as I passed her desk.

“They resumed classes last week,” she explained. “From now on, they’ll only be in twice a week.”

I nodded, hiding the strange flicker of relief that sparked in my chest.

“Goodnight, Maria.”

“Goodnight, sir.”

I stepped into the private elevator, the city stretched out before me in dazzling lights. A perfect picture. A perfect life. At least, that’s what the world believed.

But perfection has cracks. And sometimes, it only takes one defiant pair of eyes to split it wide open.