Claimed By Shadows

CHAPTER TWO: Control vs. Curiosity

Theodore POV

"She stays."

The room goes silent.

One of the board members sitting across the table is looking at me as if I just said something wrong.

He quickly correct the wierd way he just looks at me after hearing that statement and places both his hands together over the table. He gives me that fake smile he often wears whenever he thinks he can change my mind.

"With respect, Theodore," he says, "temporary workers don't normally sit in on…"

"I didn't ask for what normally happens, did I?”

My voice is quiet. Flat.

He clears his throat. "Her security clearance…"

"Is my problem to handle." I cut his statement right there.

Silence again. Heavier this time.

I relax my back in my chair and look directly at him. I don't akwardly look at him. I don't threaten. I just wait. Men like him always talk to fill the quiet.

"She hasn't proven herself," he tries again. "And honestly, having her here raises questions."

I nod once. "Good."

That catches him off guard.

"Questions keep people sharp," I add. "Sharp people make fewer mistakes."

No one argues after that.

They never do.

The meeting continues, there are lot of numbers appearing on the screen and the voices in the room finally turn into background noise.

I listen just enough to know what's going on, but my mind is on the empty chair across the table.

Eloise should be sitting there.

She isn't even trying to get noticed, but that right there is the exact reason why I noticed her.

I built my entire life around control that isn’t loud but quiet.

Temporary people don't fit anywhere, because all they do is to show up, take what they need, leave, and then mess up the system. And I hate that!

So when I noticed her, it made me feel very uncomfortable.

She doesn't walk around the office workspace looking for attention. She doesn't try to prove herself to anyone, or at least directly. Instead, what she does is to listen and talk when she needs to.

I doubt if she was taught how to hold back like that. Life must have made her learn that the hard way.

The moment the meeting is over, instead of walking back to my office, I take the long passage that goes through the creative department.

She's right there.

Standing by the glass wall, looking at something on her tablet so seriously, her shoulders look way too tight for someone who's just doing their job.

She feels me coming towards her even before she looks in my direction.

"Mr. Blackwood," she says, standing so upright.

"Theodore," I correct her.

She pauses for a second or two. "Theodore."

"You weren't in the meeting that just ended."

"I wasn't invited."

"That wasn't infact a mistake."

Her jaw tightens. "I thought so."

I look at her face. Calm. Controlled. But her fingers are holding the tablet's edge too hard.

"Walk with me," I say.

She doesn't argue with me this time around.

We walk together at the same speed. She tries her best not to get too close to me, but also careful not to fall behind.

"I have noticed that you don't like attention," I say.

She looks at me. "Attention usually brings expectations."

"Or consequences."

She doesn't answer. That tells me enough.

When we reach the elevators, she stops. "Well, if this is about this morning…"

"It isn't," I say. "Not completely."

Her breath catches. She hides it well. Almost.

"I want you working closer with the main team," I continue. "Full access to everything."

Her eyes go wide for a second. "That's... unusual."

"So are you."

The doors open. We step inside.

"You don't trust me," she says quietly.

"I trust patterns," I reply. "And so far so good, you don't match the one you're pretending to be."

Her head suddenly lifts up. For the first time, something real flashes across her face.

Then the doors close.

The moment passes.

Right back in my office, I press the button on my desk phone.

"Run a background check on Eloise."

There's a pause. "Sir?"

"Keep it quiet."

"Understood."

I end the call and let out a slow breath.

Being curious is dangerous. I know that. I've buried it before. I can do it again.

But not today.

The file shows up an hour later.

I don't open it right away.

Instead, I replay in my head several times how her shoulders went stiff the moment I mentioned giving her access. I noticed how she reacted differently, not on the outside, but on the inside when I said her name.

People who aren't hiding anything don't react that way.

Finally, I open her file.

The basic stuff loads first. School. Work history. Clean. Too clean.

Then I get to the end.

And there's nothing else.

No online history past a certain date. No references outside official channels. No personal information that goes deeper than the surface.

I scroll back up. Check the dates. Check the file details.

Someone wiped this.

Not messily. Not in a rush.

By a professional.

I feel something move in my chest. Not worry.

Recognition.

I've worn that kind of invisibility before. When my father's enemies decided my last name was a danger instead of protection.

I close the file.

So she's not careless.

She's hiding.

That evening, my brother calls.

I don't answer right away.

I know his timing too well. He never calls me without a reason, and he never likes to wait.

I let it ring one more time before picking the call.

"You're going through contracts I already approved," he says without saying hello.

I smile slightly. "You sound upset."

"You moved a temporary worker around."

"She's not just a worker."

A pause. Dangerous. Thinking.

"Be careful little brother," he says. "You're letting your feelings make your decisions in this matter."

"Come on! Both you and I know that I don't do feelings."

"But you're doing it now." He firmly says.

I look quickly at the file still open on my desk. "Why did you approve her contract?"

Another pause. Longer this time.

"She met the requirements."

"Really?” I pretend to act shocked. “That's not your real answer and you know it."

"Well, it's the only one you're getting." He blurted out in an annoying tone.

I feel the shift then. The slight tightness in my chest. The instinct I trust more than numbers.

"You hid her," I say.

He laughs quietly. "You always did like puzzles."

"Why?"

"Simply because some people are safer when nobody knows where they are."

The call ends before I can ask anything else.

I lower the phone slowly.

So my brother didn't just stumble into this.

He planned it.

The next day, Eloise arrives quite early.

I'm already there.

She stops when she sees me. "Good morning."

"You read the new contract."

"Yes."

"Are you okay with it, you didn't complain."

"I wasn't aware that I could complain."

Honest. Quiet.

"Well, you can," I say. "With me."

She studies my face, looking for something. Permission. Threat. Safety.

She doesn't find any.

"I don't want to get into anymore trouble or draw anymore attention to myself," she says.

"I know."

"I just want to work."

"That's never all people want," I reply.

She stops moving. "What do you want?"

The question hits harder than she means it to.

I step closer. Not pushing into her space. Not backing away either.

"I want to understand why my brother thought you were worth hiding."

Her breath stops.

Just once.

That's all I needed to see.

Because now I have an idea of what is going on here.

This isn't just curiosity anymore.

It's personal.

And the most dangerous thought of all settles into my mind as I watch her carefully smooth her expression back to calm.

Why would my brother hide her... from me?