Melt His Walls

Chapter Two: Rules of the Game

The day dragged on slower than I thought possible. From the moment I returned to my desk, every second seemed to stretch, filled with the hum of printers, the clatter of keyboards, and the occasional murmur of someone passing by. I tried to focus on the contracts in front of me, the numbers and clauses screaming at me to get them right. But my mind kept drifting back to him—Callum Blackwood.

Even from across the room, he seemed to dominate everything. Not just the office, but the air itself. The way people straightened when he walked past. The way his presence made even the bravest staff falter. And me? I wasn’t sure if I was afraid, or… captivated.

I forced myself to breathe, to focus, to organize the folders on my desk. But no matter how fast I worked, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was constantly being watched. My chest tightened every time his gray eyes flicked toward me, assessing, measuring.

By lunch, I was starving and jittery. I grabbed a sandwich from the cafeteria and returned to my desk, eating in near silence. My phone buzzed once, twice, and I almost jumped every time. Nothing important, just emails and reminders. Still, each vibration made my stomach flutter.

Then came the folder.

It was small, simple, placed neatly on my desk like it had been waiting for me. My name was on it, written in neat, confident letters: Bella Hart. My hands trembled slightly as I picked it up.

Inside were contracts, reports, and a single handwritten note in crisp black ink:

"Do not fail. He notices everything."

I swallowed hard, reading the words over and over. My pulse quickened. My mind raced. Was it a warning? A test? Who had left this here?

And then, just as I was trying to steady myself, I felt it—the weight of those gray eyes behind me, even though I hadn’t heard him enter.

“Do you understand what I expect, Miss Hart?” His voice was calm, even, but it cut through the office air sharper than any shout.

“Yes, sir,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady even though my knees threatened to buckle.

He didn’t say another word. He simply turned on his heel and walked out of the office, leaving me alone with the folder, my thoughts, and the strange, electric tension he carried everywhere he went.

I stared at the contracts again, but the words blurred. My hands shook as I tried to focus.

By the time the clock hit five, I was drained. Physically, mentally, emotionally. I had survived my first full day under Callum Blackwood—and somehow, that thought thrilled and terrified me at the same time.

I gathered my things slowly, heart still racing. The office was emptying, the hum of activity fading, and I felt a strange mixture of relief and dread. Today had been just a taste of the world I’d stepped into—and I wasn’t sure I was ready for the full course.

Then my phone buzzed.

I froze.

The screen lit up with a message from an unknown number:

"We’re watching you."

My stomach dropped.

Who was watching me? And why?

Tomorrow wasn’t going to be ordinary.

And I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out.