Chapter 3
1016 Words
I woke up before my alarm — which was already a bad sign.
People who sleep well aren’t running from their past.
People who sleep well aren’t about to walk into the headquarters of the one man who should never see them again.
I dressed carefully.
Black wig? Secure.
Glasses? On.
Makeup? Heavy enough to bury the real me.
Afterwards, I fed Athena and packed her bag — diapers, wipes, a change of clothes, towels, toys, and the milk I’d pumped the moment I opened my eyes. I had to drop her at daycare before the interview.
Leaving an eight-month-old in daycare wasn’t ideal, but I didn’t have a choice. If I wanted to give my daughter the life she deserved, then I had to make sacrifices. At least my younger sister, Valerie, worked in the infant section. That was the only reason my anxiety wasn’t eating me alive.
Once she was settled, I boarded a bus to Black Enterprises.
My palms wouldn’t stop sweating. I wiped them on my jeans, but the closer I got to the building, the worse my heartbeat became — loud, uneven, almost painful.
I shouldn’t be here.
I shouldn’t even be thinking about being here.
But bills don’t care about trauma.
Rent doesn’t care about heartbreak.
And children don’t care about your past — they just need you to provide.
The building comes into view like something carved out of intimidation itself: black glass, sharp silver edges, and the giant emblem glinting above the doors.
I almost turned back. Almost.
But then Athena’s tiny smile flashed through my mind, and my feet kept moving. If I wanted to keep that smile, I had to do anything — even if it meant stepping into the lion’s den.
***
The receptionist led me to a waiting room filled with too much perfume and too much tension.
I scanned the room — some applicants radiated confidence, some looked bored, and a few looked like they were one breath away from vomiting. I didn’t fit into any category. I was… everything. Terrified, hopeful, numb, desperate.
After nearly an hour, a woman approached.
“Belle Anderson?”
I straightened instantly. “Yes, that’s me.”
“You’re next. Please follow me.”
I grabbed my bag and followed her down a long hallway. She knocked on a door, and a voice answered. She stepped aside for me to enter.
A man sat behind a sleek table, tablet in hand. Stern but polite. And his eyes lingered just a little too long. Observant. Too observant.
“Miss Anderson?” he said.
The name still didn’t feel like mine.
“Yes.”
“Please sit.”
I did. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.
“I’m Ethan Woods, and I’ll be conducting your interview. Tell me about yourself.”
I talked. Carefully. Smoothly. Not too much detail. Not too little. I’d been pretending all my life — lying convincingly was muscle memory by now.
But the entire time… I felt watched.
Like a weight pressed behind the one-way glass.
Like someone memorised the slope of my shoulders, the cadence of my voice.
Like someone knew me too well.
I forced the paranoia away. I needed this job. I needed stability. I had no time for nonsense.
When Ethan dismissed me, my stomach was in knots.
“Results will be communicated shortly,” he said with a polite smile. “Have a good day, Miss Anderson.”
I left the room feeling cautiously optimistic.
But the sensation of being watched followed me all the way out of the building.
***
EROS — Behind the Glass
Eros didn’t move long after I left.
He hadn’t breathed the entire time I spoke.
Hadn’t blinked.
Because he knew.
He didn’t care about the name I gave.
He didn’t care about the wig, the glasses, the lowered voice.
He knew.
He knew the woman who burned him into obsession.
The woman who ran while he slept.
The woman he chased across continents.
And even now, I was lying — about everything.
But I was here.
Back in his orbit.
Right where he wanted me.
He tapped his fingers slowly against his folded arms — controlled, too controlled.
“Ethan,” he said, eyes glued to the glass, “hire her.”
“Sir? Shouldn’t we—”
“I said hire her.”
Silence.
“Yes, sir.”
He exhaled sharply — the first crack in his mask in months.
His fingers brushed the glass where I’d sat minutes earlier.
“Belle,” he whispered.
“You’re not slipping through my fingers again.”
***
BELLE
By the time I got home, I was exhausted.
My sister had already taken Athena with her, telling me I needed rest. She wasn’t wrong. I hadn’t breathed properly since the moment I woke up.
I set my bag down, kicked off my shoes, and started making noodles — when my phone rang.
Unknown number.
My stomach turned.
“Good afternoon, Miss Anderson,” a warm voice said. “This is Black Enterprises. We’re pleased to inform you that you’ve been selected for the position.”
My heart dropped straight into my stomach.
“S–selected? Already?”
“Yes. You’ll begin tomorrow. Report at 8 a.m. directly to the executive floor.”
Executive.
My blood ran cold.
That was Eros’s floor.
No.
No no no no—
“Ma’am? Are you still there?”
“Yes,” I forced out. “Thank you.”
When the call ended, I sat heavily on my bed. My vision blurred. My body trembled uncontrollably.
Tomorrow… I would walk straight into the space of the man I’d spent seventeen months hiding from. The man whose kiss haunted me. The man who would recognise me if I so much as breathed too loudly.
I pressed my palms over my eyes.
“You can do this,” I whispered.
But the truth was a cold weight in my chest:
I wasn’t hiding from Eros Kingston anymore.
I was walking straight into his office.
- Writer
