BAIT🥹

THE LOOK SHE NEVER EXPECTED

The next morning, Sophia walked into the company feeling more composed than she truly felt. Her heels clicked softly against the polished floors, but inside, her heart was still a wild drumbeat. She tried to steady it, focusing on the rhythm of her own breathing, repeating to herself: Work first. Stay calm. Focus on the tasks ahead.

It was her first official day after the late-night ride. She prayed silently that she wouldn’t run into Hash—at least not immediately. She didn’t understand why the thought of him made her pulse race, why the memory of that quiet, controlled drive lingered in her chest. But she pushed the fluttering feeling down, forcing her mind back to the work waiting for her.

And there was work. Real work.

From the moment she stepped onto the floor, Mrs. Kate’s sharp gaze was on her like a hawk circling its prey. Every movement Sophia made was under scrutiny. Every paper she touched, every key she pressed seemed magnified under Mrs. Kate’s watchful eyes.

Sophia slipped into her department, arranging files, organizing her desk, trying to blend into the background. She handed a document to one of her coworkers, offering a quiet “Here you go,” when suddenly, the air seemed to shift. It was subtle, but the change was palpable—as if the floor itself had held its breath.

Footsteps. Calm. Controlled.

Sophia turned.

Hash.

He didn’t usually come to their department. The effect was immediate: every chair was pushed in, every back straightened, every pair of eyes lowered. Even Mrs. Kate, who rarely showed anything resembling nervousness, straightened unnaturally, as though bracing herself.

Hash’s gaze swept the room with a slow, deliberate sweep. Then, finally, his eyes landed on Sophia.

Just for a second.

Just long enough.

Her breath hitched, almost imperceptibly, but she felt it in her chest. Her pulse stuttered. His expression remained neutral—calm, cold, unreadable—but something had passed between them. A flicker. Recognition. Awareness. Something unspoken that made the air between them pulse slightly tighter.

He approached Mrs. Kate, voice crisp and clipped, as always. “Where is the quarterly report?”

Mrs. Kate’s hands trembled slightly as she handed it over. “Yes, sir. I was just reviewing—”

“I didn’t ask for explanations,” Hash interrupted, flat and final.

Then, unexpectedly, he looked back at Sophia. Not at anyone else. Not at the staff. Just her.

“Miss Sophia,” he said.

Her heart jumped. “Y-yes, sir?”

“Follow me.”

Gasps rippled quietly around the room. Sophia’s cheeks warmed. Mrs. Kate’s face tightened, the warmth she occasionally showed disappearing completely.

Sophia steadied herself, straightening her shoulders, and walked behind him. She could feel dozens of eyes burning into her back, whispers rising and dying in the corners of the room. Every step made her more aware of the space between them, the quiet authority he carried like armor.

Hash didn’t speak until they were inside an empty conference room. Then he turned, leaning slightly on the sleek table, eyes locking on hers. Too closely. Too quietly.

“You got home safely yesterday?” he asked.

Sophia blinked, startled. That… wasn’t a professional question. Not even slightly.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“Good.” His voice dropped a fraction lower—not warm, but softer, calmer, carrying a subtle weight she couldn’t name.

A moment stretched between them, long enough for her to feel the quiet pulse of the room and the inexplicable tension threading through it. His gaze didn’t move from her eyes, and Sophia couldn’t look away. It was magnetic, suffocating in the best and worst ways, the kind of scrutiny that felt almost intimate, almost personal.

Then, abruptly, Hash cleared his throat and straightened, shutting down the softness as quickly as it had appeared. Professionalism snapped back like steel.

“You’re… competent,” he said, his words clipped but deliberate, almost reluctantly delivered. “Your work yesterday was… impressive.”

It was the closest thing to praise anyone had ever heard from him.

“Thank you, sir,” Sophia said, voice steady though her chest fluttered.

He nodded once, then straightened fully. “Return to your duties.”

Sophia turned, forcing herself to walk toward the door, willing her breath to slow, willing the pounding of her heart to calm.

But just before she reached the threshold, Hash’s voice stopped her again. Low, quiet, deliberate.

“And… don’t stay late again.”

She froze.

His tone wasn’t cold. It wasn’t professional. It wasn’t reprimanding.

It was… something else.

A warning? Possibly.

A concern? Perhaps.

Something she couldn’t name—but felt deep in her chest, stirring a mix of fear and fascination.

Sophia finally stepped out, hands slightly trembling, heart racing faster than she wanted to admit. And as soon as the door closed behind her, Hash exhaled audibly, running a hand through his dark hair—a subtle, humanizing gesture that was uncharacteristic of the man who never showed weakness. He had tried very hard to maintain control, to stay unreadable.

But he had failed.

Badly.

Even as Sophia returned to her desk, her pulse still stuttering, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. About the fleeting softness that had lingered in his tone, the sharp intensity of his gaze, the way he had made a simple question feel personal. The ride home the night before now had a sharper edge, a weight she hadn’t recognized until now.

Around her, the office buzzed with its usual rhythm—typing, murmurs, the occasional ring of a phone—but Sophia felt detached, lost in the echo of that encounter. Every glance at Hash’s office, every sound of his footsteps, made her heart skip.

She tried to focus, to bury herself in files, reports, and databases, but the tension lingered like a subtle hum beneath her skin.

Even Mrs. Kate noticed. The corners of her mouth twitched, a small, almost imperceptible sign that she recognized the shift—but said nothing.

By the end of the day, Sophia’s hands ached from typing, and her mind buzzed from the relentless focus required to maintain composure. Yet, beneath the exhaustion, there was a strange thrill. Something unnameable had shifted. Something had awakened in the quiet moments between commands and compliance.

And as she gathered her things to leave, a small, private smile tugged at her lips. Because in the midst of chaos, in the rigid walls of the company, and under the scrutiny of the man whose presence commanded attention, Sophia felt… noticed.

Not in a way anyone else could see. Not in a way that could be spoken aloud. But in a way that mattered.

The ride home, the late-night solitude, and the quiet, measured glance of Hash lingered in her thoughts like a shadow she didn’t want to chase away.

Something was coming. Something unpredictable. Something… electrifying.

And Sophia, for the first time in weeks, felt alive in the tension.