I wasn't always scared of the ocean. The vastness of it, the mystery, the unknown depths it used to intrigue me, draw me in with its promise of adventure. But that was before I went for a dive in his eyes. Before I found myself drowning in their abyss. Caught in a current so strong it pulled me under before I even realized what was happening. The deeper I went, the harder it became to find my way back. And the strangest part? I didn't want to come up for air. Not yet. I was captivated, lost in the depths of him, in the darkness that both terrified and enthralled me. In those moments, I realized it wasn't the ocean I feared, it was never wanting to escape its hold.
I was barely awake when the knock came at my door. I tossed and turned through the night, restless at the thought of starting a new job. Different thoughts raced through my head. I was going back to the corporate world. Never thought that would happen in a million years.
A knock.
I open the door to see a man in a crisp suit. Hegreeted me with an impassive expression on his face.
"I'm here to drive you to your new job," he said, his voice professional but cold. There was no room for questions or refusal, just an expectation that I would follow.
"Right," I muttered, still groggy as I stepped back inside to grab my things. I hadn't expected this. It was unsettling, but maybe this was just how things were done in Mr. Sterling's world...…efficient, impersonal, and a little intimidating.
The ride to the office was silent, the city blurring past the tinted windows. My thoughts raced as fast as the car, my anxiety mounting with each passing block. By the time we arrived, my stomach was in knots.
Mr. Sterling's building was tall and imposing, just like him. The man in the suit led me through the sleek, modern lobby without a word. When we reached the elevator, he pressed the button for the top floor. Of course. Mr. Sterling would be at the top, looking down on the world.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and I followed him down a quiet, dimly lit hallway. He opened the door to an expansive office, the kind that screamed power and wealth. Mr. Sterling was behind his desk, barely glancing up as I entered.
"Miss Turner," he said, his voice as cool as the room. "Welcome."
"Thank you," I managed to say, feeling small under his gaze. His eyes were as unreadable as ever, a storm brewing behind them that I couldn't quite decipher. The tension between us was palpable, thickening the air.
"I trust the ride was satisfactory," he continued, looking down at his desk as he sifted through papers on his desk.
"It was fine," I replied, unsure of what else to say.
Without another word, he stood and walked around his desk, gesturing for me to follow. The tour of the office was brisk and efficient, just like everything else about him. He pointed out key areas. The conference room, the break room, his private office. The entire time, his tone was clipped, almost impatient.
When we finally reached my station, a sleek desk in a secluded corner of the office, I felt a wave of relief. It was quiet, almost too quiet, but I welcomed the solitude. Everything was moving so fast, a whirlwind of new faces and places. But as unsettling as it all was, I realized that I couldn't complain since this job was exactly what I needed.
If someone was stalking me, keeping an eye on me. Someone from my old life...this change of pace would throw them off. It was a fresh start, something to focus on instead of constantly looking over my shoulder. But as I sat down at my new desk, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was trading one kind of danger for another.
Settling into the chair, I let out a slow breath, trying to steady my nerves. Life in an office setting wasn't new to me, though it had been years since I last sat behind a desk. The familiarity of the environment was both comforting and unnerving, like slipping into an old coat that still fits but feels different somehow.
The desk was sleek and minimalist, much like everything else in this building. I noticed a small stack of papers neatly arranged to one side, and among them was Mr. Sterling's schedule for the week. I picked it up, scanning through the list of meetings, calls, and appointments. It was a tight schedule. This was going to be a long week. I felt my anxious just thinking about it.
But I wasn't here to be intimidated. I was here to do a job.
I grabbed a pen and a notepad, my old habits kicking in as I began to cross-reference the appointments, looking for any overlaps or conflicts. The rhythm of the task was soothing, a reminder that despite the changes, this was something I could manage. I was rusty, sure, but not out of my depth.
As I went through his schedule, I made a few notes. Some minor adjustments that could make his day run smoother, a couple of potential conflicts that needed to be addressed. The more I focused on the details, the more the tension in my shoulders eased. It was all about finding that rhythm again, proving to myself that I could still do this.
Mr. Sterling's world was demanding, no doubt about that. But I'd faced worse. The corporate world had its own set of rules, and I had once navigated them with ease. This wasn't so different. Just another office, another boss, another day.
And yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was more than just a job. Mr. Sterling wasn't just another boss. There was something about him, something dark and inscrutable, that set him apart from anyone I'd worked for before. The tension between us, the way his gaze seemed to pierce through me, it was all too intense, too consuming.
But that was a problem for later. For now, I had a job to do, and I was determined to do it well. If anything, this position was a perfect cover, a way to blend in and disappear into the routine of office life. A way to stay one step ahead of whoever might be watching me.
I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and focused on the task at hand, diving into the work with a newfound determination. After all, this was my life now. I had to make it work.
Around noon, a soft knock echoed through the office, pulling me from the depths of Mr. Sterling's schedule. I looked up to see him leaning against the doorframe of my office. His presence filled the room instantly, a cool but electrifying energy that I was still trying to get used to.
"Miss Turner," he said, his voice smooth as silk, "Join me for lunch."
It wasn't a request, but the tone was almost... polite. There was no reason to say no, not when I had only been in this job for a few hours. Still, the idea of spending more time in close proximity to him made my pulse quicken.
"Of course, Mr. Sterling," I replied, rising from my chair.
We left the office together, walking a short distance to a small, elegant café tucked away from the busy streets. It was the kind of place you wouldn't notice unless you were looking for it, quiet and secluded, the perfect spot for a private conversation. He held the door open for me, a small but surprising gesture, before following me inside.
The café was quaint, filled with the aroma of fresh coffee and pastries. We were seated by a window overlooking a small garden, the soft light filtering through the leaves casting delicate shadows across the table.
"So," he began once our orders were placed, his eyes settling on mine with that same piercing intensity. "Let's talk about expectations."
I nodded, trying to keep my expression neutral, though my mind was racing. "Of course, Mr. Sterling. I'm here to support you in any way I can."
His lips curved slightly, a ghost of a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I expect precision, Miss Turner. I don't tolerate mistakes. Your job is to ensure that I'm always three steps ahead. You anticipate my needs before I do. Understand?"
"Yes, I understand," I replied, my voice steady. I could handle that. After all, it wasn't much different from what I'd done before, just on a much more personal level.
His gaze lingered on me for a moment, as if weighing my words, testing the truth of them. Then, out of nowhere, he made a remark that caught me off guard.
"You have remarkable eyes," he said, his voice lower, almost thoughtful. "There's something... unique about them."
The compliment startled me, coming from someone who rarely showed anything beyond professional detachment. For a moment, I didn't know how to respond. My eyes?
"Thank you," I managed to say, trying to keep my voice steady, though I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. "I'm not sure what's so unique about them."
He leaned back slightly, his gaze still fixed on me, and took a slow sip of his coffee. The silence between us was thick, filled with unspoken tension. I could feel the weight of his scrutiny, like he was assessing every little detail about me.
"I think it's time we head back," he finally said, glancing at his watch. His tone was calm but carried an edge that hinted at his impatience. He set his coffee cup down with deliberate precision, then stood up smoothly
We walked back to the office in silence, the cool breeze doing little to ease the tension that had built up inside me during lunch. I could still feel Mr. Sterling's gaze, even though he wasn't looking directly at me, and it unnerved me more than I cared to admit.
Once we were inside the building, I headed straight for my desk, eager to immerse myself in work and push aside the unsettling thoughts swirling in my mind. The stack of files waiting for me was a welcome distraction, and I quickly busied myself, reviewing his schedule and organizing the tasks that needed to be done. But even as I worked, I couldn't shake the lingering sensation of being watched.
As the afternoon wore on, the office buzzed with activity, but it all felt distant, like background noise. My focus kept slipping, drawn back to the man in the office next door. There was something about Mr. Sterling. Something that made it hard to think clearly when he was around. The way he spoke. The way he looked at me. It all felt like a puzzle I couldn't quite figure out.
I was in the middle of reviewing some documents when my phone buzzed, snapping me out of my thoughts. It was a message from Mr. Sterling.
"Please come to my office."
My heart skipped a beat. What could he possibly want now? I quickly smoothed down my blouse and took a deep breath before making my way to his office. As I approached the door, I hesitated for a moment, steeling myself before knocking.
"Come in," his voice called out, calm and composed as always.
I opened the door and stepped inside, closing it softly behind me. Mr. Sterling was seated at his desk, his eyes fixed on the laptop screen in front of him. He didn't look up immediately, which only heightened my anxiety. The room was bathed in warm light, casting long shadows that made everything feel a little more intimate, a little more intense.
"Miss Turner," he finally said, looking up from his screen. "I do hope you exceed my expectations. I don't doubt you will….after all, I picked you."
The compliment, while flattering, felt like a trap. There was always something behind his words, something I couldn't quite grasp. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak just yet.
"I want to go over a few upcoming events with you," he continued, gesturing for me to sit. "These require particular attention to detail, and I need you to be fully aware of what's expected."
I took a seat, my hands resting in my lap as I waited for him to continue. He outlined several meetings and social gatherings, each one sounding more complex than the last. As he spoke, I could feel the weight of his words pressing down on me. This wasn't just about managing his schedule; it was about managing him, his image, his interactions-everything.
"And one more thing," he added, leaning forward slightly. "There will be times when I need you to accompany me to these events. Your presence will be necessary."
"Of course, Mr. Sterling," I replied, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I understand."
He nodded, satisfied with my response. Then, just as I thought the meeting was over, he said something that sent a chill down my spine.
"There's more to this job than meets the eye, Miss Turner. It requires discretion, loyalty, and most importantly, trust. I need to know that I can trust you implicitly."
His eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, I felt like he could see straight through me, past the professional façade I was trying so hard to maintain. The intensity of his gaze was suffocating, and I had to remind myself to breathe.
"You can trust me, Mr. Sterling," I said, my voice firmer than I expected. "I won't let you down."
He studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he leaned back in his chair, the tension in the room easing slightly. "Good," he said, his tone softening just a fraction. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear."
The meeting ended shortly after that, and I returned to my desk, my mind racing with everything that had just transpired. The way he spoke to me, the way he looked at me-it all felt like a test, one I couldn't afford to fail.
As the day dragged on and evening approached, I found myself replaying our conversation over and over again in my head. There was so much unsaid, so much that lingered between the lines. The tension between us was undeniable, but there was something else too-something darker, more complicated.