THE CEO's REGRET

CHAPTER 2: THE FACE I KNEW

I had three rules for this contract. Don’t feel anything. Don’t remember anything. And whatever you do, don’t let him see that both rules had already shattered before I even walked through the door.

I made it back to my desk by two o’clock, hands still shaking as I dropped my bag onto the chair. The office felt smaller than usual, the usual clutter closing in around me.

Two rooms, decent light, that plain street view I always liked because it never lied. Right now the silence felt heavy, like it was waiting for something.

I sank into my chair, opened my laptop, and just stared. The screen blurred. None of it made sense.

“He’s been watching your company for over a year. Ask him why.”

The message still sat there glowing like a live wire. I hadn’t deleted it. Couldn’t bring myself to. On the drive back I’d made two stupid decisions, keeping that text, and letting Sebastian Hale creep back into my head. He was already taking up space I swore I’d never give him again.

I slammed the email shut and yanked open the vendor file. Three minutes. That was all I lasted before the memories hit me like a truck.

---

The memory came out of nowhere. Renner Street café. Dim lights, strong coffee, those tiny tables where our knees kept brushing no matter how I tried to shift away.

Sebastian hunched over his laptop, reading glasses slipping down his nose, the ones he only wore when he thought no one was looking. His coffee had gone cold because he always forgot it the second he got focused.

I’d said something ordinary. Nothing special. He looked up and laughed. Not the polished version he used in boardrooms. The real one that started deep in his chest and lit up his eyes a second later. He looked at me like I was the best part of his whole week.

Just for laughing. Our knees touching under that cramped table, my heart had swelled with this quiet, scary thought: *This is what safe feels like. I didn’t even know it had a feeling.*

I shoved the memory away so hard my eyes stung.

---

“You’re doing the thing again.” Marcus stood in the doorway holding two coffees, his face soft but his eyes seeing right through me like always.

Tall, warm, the friend and business partner who never let me get away with hiding. He set a cup in front of me and dropped into the chair across the desk.

“What thing?” I asked, my voice coming out tighter than I wanted.

“The dead-eyed stare at the screen.” He leaned forward, keeping his voice low and steady. “Means something big happened, and you’ve already decided I don’t get to know.” His eyes softened with that familiar worry. “Talk to me, Naomi. What really happened at Hale Industries?”

I wrapped both hands around the warm cup, trying to stop them from shaking. “Just a client meeting. I presented to the events team, stayed professional, and left. Nothing more.”

Marcus didn’t blink. “And Sebastian? Was he in the room?”

My stomach twisted tight. “Yeah… he was there.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes full of quiet concern. “Okay. How are you holding up? Be real with me.”

“I’m fine,” I lied, but the word cracked halfway out. “I kept it together. Did the job and walked out. That’s the whole story.”

“Naomi.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve known you too long for that. That text you sent me, the one saying he’s been watching your company for over a year, what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m handling it. Quietly.” I took a shaky sip. “We don’t need to panic.”

“We could drop the contract right now,” he said gently. “There are plenty of other clients who won’t drag up all this old pain. It’s not worth it if it’s ripping you apart inside.”

“No.” The word came out sharper than I meant. “I don’t want another client. I want this one. I can handle Sebastian. I’ve handled worse.”

Marcus looked at me for a long moment, those brown eyes heavy with worry that made my chest ache. “I know you’re strong. I’ve seen it. But that’s exactly what scares me, what this is going to cost you when you’re alone with it.”

He stood up, coffee still in hand. “Just… don’t shut me out completely, okay? I’m right here.”

He left before I could answer. The soft click of the door hung in the quiet office like something unfinished.

---

Isla was already home when I walked in that evening. Homework scattered across the kitchen table, headphones loose around her neck.

Sixteen, sharp and quick, with her grandmother’s mouth and those grey eyes that saw way too much, eyes that weren’t mine. I’d spent sixteen years never saying that last part out loud.

“You look like hell, Mom,” she said softly, not mean, just honest. “Work thing?”

“Work thing, baby,” I answered, forcing a smile that felt paper-thin.

She didn’t push. She knew my timing. I made dinner, the familiar sounds of chopping and plates clinking filling the too-quiet apartment.

We ate together. She talked about her history project, the maps and timelines that actually had her excited. I listened, asked questions, and tried to stay right there with her.

The memory of Renner Street slipped into my head only once. I counted it as a small win.

After she went to bed, I sat at the kitchen table with my laptop open and a glass of water I wasn’t drinking. I told myself I was reviewing the Hale brief.

Instead, I opened Sebastian’s company profile. Twelve press photos loaded, galas, board meetings, charity events. I scrolled fast, telling myself it was just research.

Then one photo stopped me cold.

In the background of a charity dinner shot, half-turned and a little blurry, a man in a dark jacket. Weight on his back foot. Watching. Not joining in.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

I zoomed in until his face came into focus. I knew that stance. I knew that face.

Three years ago he’d stood across the street from my apartment on a Tuesday night. Just standing there, staring up at my windows. I’d spotted him, changed my routines for weeks, then convinced myself I was being paranoid.

He’d shown up again the next spring. Same spot. Same cold stare. I’d told myself it was a coincidence.

Now the photo screamed the truth. It had never been a coincidence.

Someone had been watching me for years, and tonight I finally had a face to put on the nightmare.

My hands shook as I stared at him, the same man who had haunted the edges of my life for way too long.

But the question that made my blood run cold, the one that twisted the knife even deeper and wouldn’t let go, burned hotter than everything else:

Why was he standing behind Sebastian now?

What on earth did Sebastian know about the man who’d been stalking me all this time?