One Step Too Close
1203 Words
Emma’s POV
By Saturday afternoon, my body felt like it had been rolled over by a luxury SUV. Probably a matte black one, with custom rims and a driver named Sergei, exactly Dominic Steele’s style because tell me why I've not lasted a month in my job and it's already like my whole world revolves around this man.
Five straight days of dancing around his unpredictable mood swings, scheduling his endless list of meetings, and managing Noah’s after-school clinic appointments? I deserved a spa retreat, a cash prize, and front-row seats to the universe apologizing to me.
Instead, I got Sasha.
“I’m literally surviving on breath mints and self-pity,” she’d moaned over the phone. “Come to Brightlane Mall with me. I’ll buy you chocolate, maybe even wine. Well, depending on how sad you look.”
I went, not because I couldn’t refuse her but I needed to get out of the house and clear my head. I only had 2 work stress-free days out of 7, and if I needed time to hang out, this was my chance.
We strolled through Brightlane’s sleek aisles, laughing about bad dates and our cart filling with groceries and guilty pleasures, face masks, overpriced shampoo, and a candle that smelled like a forest in France.
“You’re lucky you still have a soul,” Sasha said as she tossed a pack of Oreos into the cart. “If I had to report to Steele every day, I’d have shaved my head and joined a cult.”
I laughed, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. If only she knew. Some days, I wasn’t sure I hadn’t joined a cult. A very expensive, very intimidating one led by a man with eyes like ice and morals like shadows.
I tried to shift the conversation, away from Dominic. “Noah’s friend is coming over for dinner tomorrow. The one he's liked since middle school. I think he’s serious-serious.” I said as I eyed some fresh bell peppers.
“You’re cooking?” Sasha nearly gasped, then held up a bottle of rosé and a hanger with a silky dress. “You need this aaaand.... this. It's giving romantic sister-in-law energy.”
"Sashaaaa he's seventeen!" I rolled my eyes but took the dress. She darted into the restroom, and for once, I stood still, no work emails, no grocery list. Just… peace.
Until I saw him.
Dominic Steele.
My spine straightened instinctively.
Black slacks, crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up just enough to show off the power in his forearms. His signature brooding expression was dialed up to ten, and he wasn’t alone. He was walking beside a man I didn’t recognize, mid-forties, military haircut, eyes like someone who’s buried secrets and bodies.
And they were moving fast.
My feet moved before my brain did, trailing them from a distance. Why is he even here? This wasn’t the kind of place Dominic haunted. No luxury watches or tailored suit boutiques. Too… normal.
Then they turned.
Right into a corridor marked STAFF ONLY – STORAGE & SECURITY ACCESS.
The man swiped a keycard. The door clicked open and they disappeared behind it.
I stood frozen.
Every instinct screamed at me to walk away. But curiosity? Curiosity wrapped its fingers around my wrist and pulled.
I crept closer and pressed my ear to the cold steel. At first, nothing. Then…
Dominic’s voice came through, sharp and commanding, but beneath the ice, a layer of something raw.
Urgency.
“This has to stay off the books, no traces. I’m not losing the Bahrain accounts again.”
My breath hitched.
Off the books?
What's Dominic trying to cover this time? How did he hide it from me?
Another voice responded, muffled but clearer.
“If the investigation links back to the offshore transfer, your name won’t be scrubbed this time. We’re already red-flagged.”
Investigation? Offshore? My pulse quickened, I just knew Dominic Steele was a shady asshole. I can't believe I was starting to see some good in him while he's just being the fraud he is.
Then Dominic’s voice again, low and lethal.
“Get it done, Marcus. And burn the old ledgers.” He growled.
I stumbled back a step, heart slamming against my ribs.
Ledgers? Offshore transfers? Red flags?
This wasn’t business. He was covering something up. Maybe something I could use... a weapon that could come in handy.
What are you into, Dominic?
“Emma?” Sasha’s voice rang out from the other end of the hallway. “Where the hell did you go?”
Panic bloomed in my chest, as I quickly backed away.
The door clicked.
I dove behind the nearest vending machine, barely managing to silence my breath.
Dominic stepped out alone, tension radiating from every inch of him. His jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists. He looked like a man barely keeping a leash on chaos.
I stayed hidden, barely daring to blink.
Seconds stretched like hours, then he turned and disappeared down another corridor.
I exhaled, quietly, shaky.
He hadn’t seen me, but I had seen him and heard enough.
Enough to know that the man I worked for wasn’t just ruthless and cold.
He was a thief and a criminal just as I suspected.
And maybe, just maybe this was my way out.
Maybe this was how I take Dominic Steele down.
Or…
How I get tangled in something I’ll never escape.
My knees wobbled as I stood, the vending machine humming beside me like it was trying to soothe my racing heart.
This wasn’t boardroom politics. This was either a smart move or a dangerous one. Whatever step I was going to take would determine which.
I couldn’t let this Intel slide.
I barely had time to gather my thoughts before a voice screeched behind me.
“There you are!”
I jumped so hard I nearly punched the vending machine.
Sasha marched over, hands on her hips, wild curls bouncing with each step. “Were you hiding? Did someone offer you free samples or a secret spa room?”
I forced a laugh, trying to make my pulse chill the hell out. “Uh… no. I just… needed air, got a little breezy dizzy.”
“You do look pale,” she said, frowning. “You okay?”
No. Not even close.
But I nodded. “I’m good, just... tired.”
She stared at me for a second longer, then shrugged. “Well, good news, I found a two-for-one deal on those fancy bath bombs you love, so we’re definitely doing a spa night before you chef up that lovebird dinner tomorrow.”
“Spa night sounds amazing” I muttered, grabbing the cart handle like it could anchor me back to normal life.
We checked out quickly as I moved on autopilot, nodding at Sasha’s stories and half-laughing at her rants about bad lighting in the dressing rooms.
But my mind was elsewhere, still behind that steel door.
Still replaying Dominic’s words.
“Get it done, Marcus. And burn the old ledgers.”
What was he hiding? What was he trying to erase?
I needed to find out what, before it was too late.
- Writer
