CHAPTER THREE — THE CEO’S EYES
909 Words
Ariana’s heart slammed violently against her ribs.
She felt it the moment Damian Sterling’s gaze dropped.
From her face…
to the little boy standing beside her.
Liam tightened his grip on her hand, sensing her sudden tension.
“Mommy?” he whispered.
Ariana swallowed hard. “It’s okay,” she lied.
It wasn’t.
Damian’s sharp, unreadable eyes fixed on the child like the world had just tilted off its axis. He didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. His jaw tightened, the muscles ticking as if he were holding back something dangerous.
For a split second, Ariana thought he might recognize her.
He didn’t.
But something else registered.
Recognition—not of her…
but of Liam.
Damian took one slow step forward.
Then another.
Ariana’s instincts screamed.
She moved—subtly, instinctively—placing herself between Damian and her son.
“Sir,” she said quickly, lowering her gaze respectfully. “I—I’m here for the interview.”
Damian didn’t respond.
His attention never left Liam.
“What’s your name?” Damian asked suddenly.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
Ariana’s throat tightened. “Sir?”
“The child,” Damian clarified.
Liam peeked out from behind her leg, curious rather than afraid. “I’m Liam.”
Damian inhaled sharply.
That voice.
That tone.
Something cracked behind his eyes.
“How old are you?” Damian asked.
“Two,” Liam answered proudly, holding up two fingers.
Two years.
The words echoed loudly in Damian’s mind.
Two years ago.
His pulse spiked.
Ariana felt it—the shift, the danger, the invisible line tightening around them.
“Sir,” she said again, firmer now. “If I’ve done something wrong—”
“You haven’t,” Damian interrupted.
His gaze finally lifted to hers.
And Ariana felt the impact like a physical blow.
Those eyes.
The same ones she had seen in candlelight. In darkness. In the morning she ran.
Cold now. Controlled. Powerful.
But still… the same.
He stared at her longer this time, something flickering beneath the surface.
Confusion.
Curiosity.
A faint sense of familiarity he couldn’t quite place.
Then his expression shuttered.
“Follow me,” Damian said.
Her stomach dropped.
“To the interview floor?” she asked carefully.
“No,” Damian replied. “My office.”
Her blood ran cold.
“I—should take my son to the waiting area,” she said quickly.
“No,” he said again, sharper this time. “He comes too.”
Ariana had no choice.
The elevator ride was torture.
Liam hummed softly, oblivious to the tension crackling in the air. Ariana stood stiffly beside him, her mind racing.
He doesn’t know, she told herself desperately.
He can’t know.
Damian stood across from them, silent, his reflection looming in the mirrored walls. His gaze flicked to Liam repeatedly, drawn like gravity.
The doors opened.
Damian’s office was massive—glass walls, dark wood, a city skyline stretched beneath them like an empire.
“Sit,” he said.
Ariana lowered herself onto the couch, pulling Liam onto her lap.
Damian didn’t sit.
He circled slowly, predator-like, eyes sharp.
“How long have you worked here?” he asked.
“Today would’ve been my first day,” Ariana replied.
“And before that?”
“Various places,” she said carefully. “Nothing important.”
Damian stopped pacing.
“And the child’s father?”
Ariana’s breath hitched.
“I’m sorry?” she asked.
“You heard me,” Damian said. “Where is he?”
Her fingers tightened around Liam.
“He’s not involved.”
“By choice?” Damian pressed.
“By necessity,” she replied quietly.
Damian studied her face, searching for something.
Lies.
Truth.
Cracks.
“You don’t wear a wedding ring,” he said.
“I don’t need one.”
“No,” he murmured. “You don’t.”
Something about her unsettled him.
Something familiar.
Something he couldn’t name.
Damian crouched suddenly in front of Liam again.
Ariana tensed instantly.
But his voice softened.
“What do you like to do, Liam?”
“Draw dinosaurs,” Liam said happily.
Damian’s lips twitched. “Dinosaurs?”
“And cars,” Liam added.
Damian nodded slowly. “Of course you do.”
Ariana’s heart pounded painfully.
This was wrong.
Too intimate.
Too close.
She stood abruptly. “Sir, if this interview is over, I’d like to leave.”
Damian straightened.
“No,” he said.
Her pulse raced.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Decided what?” she asked.
“Whether I’m letting you walk out of this building.”
Fear flashed through her chest.
“You can’t—”
“I can,” Damian interrupted calmly. “And I won’t.”
Ariana stared at him, stunned.
“Why?” she demanded.
Damian’s gaze dropped to Liam once more.
“Because something about this doesn’t sit right with me,” he said quietly.
“And I don’t ignore instincts.”
Her stomach twisted.
Damian turned to his desk and pressed a button.
“Clear my afternoon,” he said into the intercom. “And bring me the background file on our new hire. Immediately.”
Ariana’s blood ran cold.
“Sir—”
Damian faced her again, eyes dark.
“You’re staying,” he said.
“You and your son.”
“For how long?” she whispered.
His jaw tightened.
“Until I figure out why your child has my eyes.”
Ariana’s
- Writer
