Chapter- 8
876 Words
By late afternoon, Hannah's head was beginning to ache from staring at numbers for hours. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her temples before looking at the stack of papers beside her. She had already gone through the confidential report twice, but something still bothered her. The numbers weren't wrong exactly. They were simply too carefully arranged, as if someone had made sure nothing looked suspicious at first glance.
She stood and decided to get some coffee before continuing. The small pantry on the executive floor was empty, so she made herself a cup and carried it back toward her office.
Her mind was somewhere else entirely.
She was thinking about the company connected to Hawthorne, about the chairman's warning, and about Adrian waiting outside Blackstone earlier that morning. She didn't notice how hot the coffee was until her fingers slipped slightly around the cup.
The lid tilted.
“Damn.”
The coffee started spilling toward her hand.
Before Hannah could react, someone caught her wrist.
The sudden movement stopped the cup from tipping completely.
Hannah froze.
She looked up.
Mr. Blackstone was standing directly in front of her.
His hand was still around her wrist, steadying it, while his other hand took the cup from her before it could spill any further.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
“You're distracted,” he said.
Hannah blinked.
“I noticed.”
He glanced at the cup, then back at her. “You almost burned yourself.”
“I know.”
“You didn't look like you knew.”
There was something almost amused in his voice.
Hannah slowly pulled her hand from his.
“Thank you.”
He placed the cup on the nearby table. “You should be more careful.”
“I usually am.”
“Usually?”
She looked at him.
“Today was an exception.”
His eyes remained on her for another moment.
It wasn't the kind of look she was used to receiving from men. There was no obvious flirting in it, no arrogance, and no attempt to make her uncomfortable. It was simply curiosity.
As if he was trying to figure her out.
Hannah straightened her posture. “I'll be careful next time.”
“I hope so.”
She reached for the coffee again.
He stopped her with a look.
“Don't.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“You're still distracted.”
“I can drink coffee and think at the same time.”
“Can you?”
The question made her pause.
Hannah looked at him for a moment before letting out a quiet breath. “Apparently not.”
A faint smile touched his face.
It disappeared almost immediately, but Hannah noticed it.
She hadn't expected that.
Everyone in the company spoke about him as if he were impossible to approach. Cold. Serious. Untouchable.
Yet here he was, standing in front of her, almost teasing her about a cup of coffee.
“You should go back to your work,” he said.
“I was going to.”
“Good.”
Hannah turned to leave, but after two steps she stopped.
“Mr. Blackstone?”
He looked at her.
“Why did you hire me?”
His expression changed slightly.
“You've asked me that before.”
“I know.”
“And I gave you an answer.”
“You did.”
She looked at him over her shoulder. “I don't completely believe it.”
For a few seconds, he said nothing.
Then he walked closer.
Not close enough to touch her, but close enough that Hannah became aware of the space between them.
“You think there's another reason?”
“I think you don't do anything without a reason.”
His gaze settled on hers.
“You're observant.”
“So I've been told.”
“And stubborn.”
Hannah smiled faintly. “I've been told that too.”
He studied her for another moment before saying, “Maybe I was curious.”
“Curious about what?”
“You.”
Her smile disappeared.
He didn't elaborate.
Instead, he walked past her and picked up the coffee from the table.
“You're free to leave.”
Hannah stared at him.
“That's it?”
“For now.”
She shook her head slightly, unable to stop herself from smiling.
“Goodnight, Mr. Blackstone.”
“Goodnight, Hannah.”
She walked away, but she could feel his eyes following her until she disappeared around the corner.
Back inside her office, Hannah closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment.
She couldn't understand why that small interaction had affected her.
It wasn't romantic.
Nothing had happened.
He had simply stopped her from burning her hand.
Yet there had been something in the way he looked at her.
Something she hadn't expected.
Meanwhile, in his office, Mr. Blackstone stood by the window with his hands in his pockets.
He glanced toward the door Hannah had just walked through.
He had met hundreds of people who wanted something from him.
Money.
Power.
Connections.
Hannah Vale was different.
She seemed determined not to need anything from him.
And strangely enough, that was exactly what made him want to know more.
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