Stay Away
770 Words
Lena’s hands shook.
Her phone hovered over the trash icon.
Ethan’s gaze didn’t leave her.
“Do it,” he said, low, clipped.
She hesitated.
“This is my phone—”
“Delete it, Lena,” he interrupted sharply, stepping closer. The space between them shrank. Too close. His eyes, grey and dangerous, pinned her in place. “Now.”
Her thumb hovered. Heart racing. She deleted the message.
“Good,” he said quietly. “You’ll thank me later.”
“I—thank you?” she muttered, unsure if she meant it or if it sounded sarcastic.
Ethan didn’t answer. He just turned and walked toward the window, hands in pockets, jaw tight. She could feel the weight of his stare even from behind.
⸻
The office felt smaller now.
Every whisper from the staff, every click of heels across marble, seemed amplified.
They know something I don’t,Lena thought.
She tried to focus on her work, but the words blurred. Her mind kept replaying the text.
“If you know what’s good for you… stay away from Ethan Cole.”
What did that mean?
And who the hell knew enough to threaten her about him?
⸻
At 10:15, Ethan’s office door opened again.
“Miss Scott.”
She looked up.
He didn’t smile. Didn’t relax. Just motioned for her to enter.
Her stomach twisted. She walked in cautiously, files clutched tightly to her chest.
“Sit,” he commanded.
Lena obeyed.
He leaned against his desk, arms crossed, eyes scanning her like he could read every worry etched on her face.
“You received a warning,” he said. “Did you understand it?”
“Yes,” she replied, biting back frustration. “But… who would send something like that?”
Ethan’s jaw clenched.
“That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that you don’t respond, you don’t engage, and you stay away from distractions.”
“I’m not—”
“Do not argue.” His tone was sharp. Final. She swallowed. “Do you understand?”
Lena nodded quickly.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He softened slightly, just enough for her pulse to spike. “If anyone approaches you—coworker, client, stranger—you tell me. Immediately.”
Her throat tightened.
“Understood,” she whispered.
⸻
Hours later, the office felt empty.
Too empty.
She tried to concentrate on her reports, typing furiously, but every shadow seemed to move. Every whisper of the air felt like a warning.
Then, the elevator dinged.
A single shadow emerged.
Not a coworker. Not a client.
Someone watching. Waiting.
Lena froze.
Please don’t be them, she thought.
The figure stopped near the reception. Her breath caught.
And then—vanished.
⸻
Ethan appeared suddenly at her side.
“You saw that?” she asked, voice trembling.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said quietly, scanning the empty office with sharp eyes. “It’s nothing you need to handle.”
“But—”
“Nothing.” His tone left no room for argument.
Of course it does, she thought bitterly.
“You’re… everywhere,” she muttered.
“Where I’m needed,” he replied simply.
Lena swallowed, unsure if she was annoyed or… grateful.
⸻
By 5:30 PM, the office lights were dimmed.
Lena was packing up. Alone.
Almost alone.
The elevator dinged. Footsteps approached. Quick. Precise. Too precise.
Her stomach dropped.
And there he was.
Ethan.
Again.
She stared.
“Leaving?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, though her voice wavered.
He didn’t move. Just watched.
“Not safe,” he said softly.
“What?”
“You shouldn’t walk to your car alone. Not today.”
“I can handle it,” she snapped, though her knees trembled slightly.
“No,” he said firmly. “You can’t. Not now.”
⸻
They walked together.
Her pulse thundering. His presence overwhelming. Every step felt louder. Every glance more intense.
“Why are you so involved?” she asked, frustrated.
“Because I need to know you’re safe,” he replied simply.
The words hit differently than she expected.
Safe.
Not like she belonged in his office. Not like she was special. Just… safe.
But as they approached the parking garage, a shadow moved.
Someone stepped out.
And this time… the figure wasn’t alone.
⸻
Lena’s breath caught.
Ethan’s hand tightened around hers.
“Stay close,” he said, voice low.
Her heart skipped. Not from fear… entirely.
The figure stopped. Looked at them. Smirked.
And then…
“You don’t know what you’re walking into,” a deep voice called.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD