Through Fresh Eyes

I couldn’t stop looking at him. A few hours ago he was just Cass. The man who appeared whenever he felt like it, occupied my bed, then disappeared again before breakfast. Now he had a surname. A penthouse. Men who followed his orders without hesitation. Somewhere between the shooting and getting here, the man I spent a year pretending not to care about became someone I clearly didn’t know at all.

I finally shook my head. “I’ve worked with Victor for years. He always came across as reasonable. If someone asked me to name the client most likely to have me killed, he wouldn’t have made the list.”

Cass raised a brow. “Who would?”

You. I grinned at him at the thought but didn’t say anything. He just sat there watching me with that intense stare. For the first time since arriving at his place, I wanted to disappear.

“Tell me exactly what you found.” He whispered.

I thought back. The file never left my office. I didn’t go around discussing client audits over coffee. So how the hell had Victor known I was getting suspicious?

I looked back up at Cass. "Two consulting companies kept appearing in Victor's accounts. Individually, the payments didn't look suspicious. That's what made them clever. But when I reviewed the transactions as a whole, the pattern became impossible to ignore. The invoices were deliberately vague, and the paperwork didn't line up with the rest of the audit. I couldn't prove anything was wrong, but I couldn't convince myself everything was right either."

He nodded but didn't say anything.

I pressed my hands against my eyes for a second. “I never accused him of anything. I never reported him. How did he even know I was getting suspicious?”

Cass was quiet. “We don’t know yet. Someone warned him before you could go further. Finding that person is as important as finding Victor now.”

None of my staff knew anything. Let alone clients who came through the office. And I don’t talk out loud to myself so no one could’ve overheard anything. This was making less and less sense.

“Stop,” he said. “Guessing won’t help. Whoever did it already has a head start.”

I wanted to keep going but the way he said it made me pause. We sat in silence for a bit longer. I looked around properly for the first time since I got there. The place was big and open with floor to ceiling windows. Everything was neat but plain. Almost all of his furniture was black. It was impersonal. There wasn’t a single photograph. No books lying around. Nothing on the walls except paint. It looked like somewhere a man slept because eventually he had to. Either black was his favorite color or he simply didn’t care what the place looked like. It fit perfectly with the man who never left a toothbrush at my place or asked to stay longer than a night.

I looked back at him and noticed the blood soaking through the sleeve of his shirt. I’d been so caught up in my own dilemma that I hadn’t noticed until now. Too much going on. It couldn’t have been from the shooting, it was probably there when he arrived outside the office building. Now that I was seeing him with fresh eyes, he definitely looked like someone who got hurt a lot. It also explained some of the scars on his torso. “You’re bleeding.”

He glanced down. “It’s nothing.”

"t’s not nothing.” I stood up. “Where’s your bathroom?”

He pointed down a short hallway. “Second door.”

I walked that way. The bathroom was just as impersonal except for the yellow towels on the hanger near the shower glass door. Those towels had no business being in this apartment. I bet he didn’t buy them himself. Maybe he did have a woman after all. I bit my lower lip and shook my head. I turned back to the cabinets until I found a first aid kit, grabbed it and went back.

He didn’t stop me when I sat beside him and rolled up his sleeve. The cut was just a graze. I cleaned it carefully. My fingers brushed over his skin as I cleaned the cut. That familiar smell of him was right there, the same one from all those nights at my place. It annoyed me how much I still noticed such things. How part of me still wanted to lean closer the way I used to. I kept my eyes on the wound instead. The last thing I needed was some woman bursting in here and going crazy on my ass. Maybe strangle me with a yellow towel.

“What’s so amusing?” his soft voice broke into my thoughts.

“Huh?” I blinked up at him.

"Why were you smiling?”

I wasn’t even aware I was. “You collect these?” I asked quietly, nodding at an older scar on his arm. It didn’t look like it came from desk work or normal life.

He watched my hands. “Occupational hazard.”

I plastered the bandage on the cut while thinking I needed to learn more about this man and his business. My fingers lingered a second longer than they needed to. I pulled back and moved a little further from him. “How long have you known who I am?”

Cass looked at me. “About a week after we met.”

My face burned. “How long have you been watching me?”

He didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched. Then he smirked and said, “Babe.”

I stared at him. That meant a week after we met. I never saw anything suspicious. Or anyone always watching you. But certain things I overlooked suddenly made sense. Like the motorcycle that kept showing up near my apartment. The black SUV I thought I was imagining. The delivery van that always parked nearby. All rotating like delivery services. God, I was truly blind or just plain stupid. If they wanted to kill me, I would’ve been worm food long ago.

“Members of the team rotated the shifts. Whoever was free took a turn. Their only job was making sure you stayed alive without you knowing they were there.” He whispered. “You’ll meet them soon enough.”

I didn’t know what to feel or say to that. Part of me was angry that people were following me without my knowledge. Another part knew I might not be sitting here if they hadn’t. The thought made my chest tight. There wasn’t a day in hell where I thought I’d ever end up here, in his space, or anywhere near his ‘people’. Our unspoken arrangement never left space for dreaming. Even though there were days where I really, really wanted to. Before I could say anything else the elevator opened and Roman stepped in. I had to admit he was also super hot and looked every bit a biker, now wearing a grey T-shirt, black jeans, and a black jeans jacket. His face looked more serious than before.

"The CCTV doesn’t show the face of the one that got away,” he said. “It seems they knew just how to dodge it.”

Cass’s jaw tightened. “Victor doesn’t do anything half cooked.”

Except his damn books. It seems.

Roman nodded. “There’s more. While we were at the crime scene someone went into Sophia’s apartment. Nothing seems to be missing. It’s just as I know it. The laptop is also still on the coffee table.”

"Know it?” I asked. My face probably looked just as shocked.

“Babe.” Was all Cass said. I was really starting to like that word coming from him.

Down girl. Remember the yellow towels.

Neither of them bothered explaining why Roman knew anything about my apartment. Instead, Cass stood up. “Increase her protection. I want her apartment swept for prints. First the laptop. They were definitely looking for something.”

Or they just wanted to finish me off.

Roman gave a short nod and left again. The elevator doors closed behind him. I stayed on the couch watching Cass. Everything was catching up at once. My office was a crime scene. My apartment was broken into and searched. Someone knew that I suspected something. And somewhere out there was the person who warned Victor before I ever got the chance to dig further or even bring it up to him myself. Which knowing myself, I would’ve eventually.

Cass sat back down across from me. He didn’t say much. Neither did I. I watched the floor for a while, then looked at the bare walls again. Didn’t he have any family? Friends? Just this giant black apartment and whoever kept buying those ridiculous yellow towels.

I finally looked up at him. ”When does this stop?”

“When we find out who warned him,” he said. “And we make sure they don’t get to you again.”