The Forbidden Hour
1336 Words
Amelia was now waiting outside Alexander's office at 5:59 PM.
Interestingly, she noticed that the entire executive floor was eerily empty.
Employees do leave before six without exception, huh? I wonder why Rebecca looked unusually tense earlier?
“Come in,” a deep baritone voice echoed from the inside of the locked office.
“Uh, yes!” Amelia nervously braced herself before slowly entering Alexander’s office.
Amelia was stopped into her tracks as she noticed Alexander’s eyes, now not blatantly inquisitive, different from the restrained and seemingly unaffected demeanor he had shown her before.
"I see that you're really punctual, Miss Amelia Reeds."
“Yes, sir…,” she tentatively paused, wondering, “Is there any work of mine that you are…unsatisfied with?”
“I don’t do business past work hours, Amelia…,”Alexander paused. “But in fact, I am quite satisfied with your work.”
“Thank you…Mr. President.”
Amelia entered his office expecting some snarky comment on her report, even worse, some kind of hidden agenda.
However…
Alexander was setting up the chessboard, holding the coffee he likely brewed himself.
This doesn't fit the Alexander Hawke everyone talks about.
Amelia was startled to see Alexander looking at her as well. With a glimpse of a smile that seemed non-existent, he said, “Have a sit. Don’t worry, I don’t like to eat people.”
Was her nervousness that obvious?
She slowly sat down opposite his seat, slightly fidgeting her feet to ease her calmness. The atmosphere felt quite domineering, as if the space was full of his smell.
“Let’s play a round of chess. Lady’s first?”Alexander invited in a gentlemanly manner.
Are you trying to taunt me with this? I KNOW how to play it though.
“Sure.” Amelia confidently laid out the white piece on the chessboard.
A few moments of silence stretched between the two. But this time, it did not feel stifling for Amelia, it actually felt nice… to see someone who could parry well to her moves.
However, his baritone voice dispelled this illusion.
"So, you worked overseas."
Amelia’s smile stiffened.
"You read my file?" she lightheartedly bantered to hide her unease.
"I read everyone's file."
“I’m quite curious as to why you actually chose not to stay there, returning here instead.” He slowly lifted his gaze from his cup, locking eyes on her. “Why did you choose to leave it all behind? Why Hawke Industries?"
He actually already read the report Amelia submitted. He didn’t really call her for that. The report was an excuse. He was just curious, and to that he was also surprised, since he considered himself to be an apathetic person who is only concerned with the efficiency of his subordinates.
Amelia was the first.
“Why Hawke Industries? This might sound across as cliche to you actually, but I missed my home.” Locking her eyes as well to look sincere to him, Amelia lied, “No matter how good things were in Switzerland, in the end, my heart still belongs in the country where I grew up. So I wanted to settle down here. At my home.”
Playfully, she added, “Coincidentally, your company has been the leading one among all business enterprises in the country. That’s why I wanted to join here, I still wanted to be stimulated by the challenge.”
Alexander paused.
Amelia lied.
Although she looked very sincere, he had a gut feeling. He knew that she's hiding something.
But no rush. If she wants to play a cat and mouse chase, I would be more than happy to oblige.
This time, a playful smile streaked across his face, like a hunter finding its prey.
Looks like we have a new thrill this time…
“I hope you won’t disappoint me, Amelia.”
“You can trust me on this Mr. Alexander. I’m proficient in what I do.”
“Alex. Call me Alex. And I’ll treat what you said as a promise between the two of us.” Alexander responded with a lighthearted smile.
“But… you’re my boss. I can’t–”
“It’s past business hours, Amelia. Call me Alex past that.”
Alexander slowly inched towards her until they were only a few inches away. His face was chiseled like those Greek statues, that was the face that made countless ladies' hearts broken. It was also the first time Amelia noticed how Alexander’s eyes looked like deep blue sapphires, enough to suck her in. Then, she slowly ran her gaze to his nose, then to his thin lips that moved…
“After all, you want to know more about me, right?”
His deep voice sent a little shiver down her spine.
Does he know?
“No! I would not want to overstep—”
Startled by that, she quickly looked up to meet his teasing gaze and playfully raised brows.
“I’m joking, Amelia. It’s nice to see you all rifled up once in a while instead of your usual deadpan face. It makes you look more real.”
Passing by her as he walked outside the office, his voice jokingly echoed.
“Looks like I won the match between us, Amelia.”
—
The city had long since settled into its evening rhythm by the time Amelia returned to her apartment.
The room was modest compared to the life she once lived.
No grand chandelier.
No marble floors.
No servants waiting at her call.
Only a small living space illuminated by the soft glow of a bedside lamp.
She loosened her hair with a tired sigh.
How long had it been since she had last played chess?
Years, perhaps.
Her father used to teach her.
The memory surfaced unexpectedly.
A younger Amelia seated across from Solomon Reed in their family garden, pouting after another defeat.
"Business and chess are alike, Amelia," her father had once said with a smile. "The goal isn't to take the king. It's to corner him until he has nowhere left to go."
Her fingers paused.
The warmth of the memory faded as quickly as it came.
There was no family garden anymore.
No Reed estate.
No father waiting for her return.
Only debts.
Only unanswered questions.
Amelia changed into her nightclothes before retrieving the small notebook hidden beneath the false bottom of her suitcase.
She had begun writing in it the day she returned from Switzerland.
Partly for investigation. Partly as a reminder. But also as a promise.
Opening it to the latest page, she uncapped her pen.
Under the heading "Alexander Hawke," several entries had already been neatly recorded.
Ruthless. Workaholic. Untouchable. Dandy.
She stared at the words for a long moment.
Then, one by one, she added new observations beneath them.
Leaves work at six.
Drinks tea without sugar.
Skilled at chess.
Difficult to read.
Her pen hovered over the paper.
For reasons she couldn't explain, the image that surfaced in her mind was not Alexander the CEO.
Not the man seated at the head of a conference table.
Not the ruthless businessman feared by the industry.
Instead—
She remembered the quiet office after hours.
The chessboard.
The fading sunlight spilling through the windows.
And the calm way he had spoken, as though six o'clock belonged to an entirely different world from the one he ruled during the day.
Amelia frowned.
This wasn't good.
People were easier to hate when they remained distant.
Predictable.
One-dimensional.
But Alexander Hawke—
he was becoming increasingly difficult to place.
After a brief hesitation, she wrote one final line.
Not who I expected.
The realization unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
Closing the notebook, Amelia switched off the lamp and lay in bed.
Tomorrow, she would continue her investigation. Tomorrow, she would remember why she had come here.
And yet—
as sleep slowly claimed her—
The final image lingering in her mind was not of revenge.
But of blue eyes quietly studying a chessboard.
- Writer
