Little Eyes, Big Demands

Eliam Blackwood had faced men with weapons pointed at his head. He had sat across from ruthless businesspeople who smiled as they planned his downfall. He had walked into rooms where everyone wanted something from him. But nothing prepared him for the feeling of standing across a crowded school hallway, staring at a woman who might know the truth about his mother’s death.

Avaline Hart.

The name replayed in his mind. The message from the unknown number burned on his phone screen: The woman standing beside your sister knows exactly how your mother died.

He should have confronted her immediately. That was what the old Eliam would have done—the man who trusted nobody, the man who destroyed threats before they became problems. But then he looked at Gabriella. His little sister was laughing and actually laughing—something she rarely did around strangers. Avaline was helping her fix a paper crown that had fallen apart. A simple moment. A normal moment. And somehow, that made him more suspicious, because people with bad intentions rarely looked dangerous. They looked kind. They looked safe. They looked like people you wanted to trust.

“Eli?” Gabriella tugged on his hand.

He looked down.

“Yes?”

“Are you mad?”

“No.”

She looked at him carefully.

“You have your serious face.”

He almost sighed.

“Do I have another one?”

“Yes.”

“What does it look like?”

She smiled.

“Happy.”

The answer surprised him, because Gabriella knew him better than most adults. She knew the difference between his public face and the one he showed her.

Avaline looked over, and their eyes met again. For a moment, neither spoke. Then she stood.

“I should get back to my students.”

Eliam nodded.

“Thank you for looking after Gabriella.”

The words sounded strange coming from him. Gratitude was not something he gave easily. Avaline noticed.

“You’re welcome.”

A simple answer. No flirting. No attempt to impress him. That bothered him, because most people tried too hard around her, while she didn’t.

“Mr. Blackwood?”

He looked at her.

“Yes?”

“Your sister is very lucky.”

His expression changed slightly.

“Why?”

“Because she has someone who would do anything for her.”

The words were innocent, but they hit somewhere deep. Because that was exactly what he was: a man who would burn the world down for one child.

Avaline smiled softly.

“Have a good day.”

Then she walked away. Eliam watched her disappear into the crowd.

Luca appeared beside him.

“You’re staring.”

“I’m observing.”

“That’s what people say when they’re staring.”

Eliam ignored him.

“Find everything about her.”

Luca looked at him.

“Avaline Hart?”

“Everything.”

“Already working on it.” A pause followed. “Do you believe the message?”

Eliam looked toward the classroom door.

“No.” Then he lowered his voice. “But I believe someone wants me to believe it.”

That evening, the Blackwood penthouse was quieter than usual. Gabriella sat at the dining table, swinging her feet while eating pasta, while Eliam sat across from her, going through reports on his tablet. He had tried to work. He really had. But Gabriella had spent twenty minutes telling him about every child in her class: who cried, who shared toys, who got in trouble, and who had the best drawing. And somehow… he listened to every word.

“And then Lily said my drawing looked like a potato.”

Eliam looked up.

“Was it a potato?”

Gabriella gasped.

“Eli!”

A small smile appeared on his face.

“I’m asking.”

“It was a princess.”

“Princess potatoes exist?”

She crossed her arms.

“You’re making fun of me.”

“I would never.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“You are.”

For a few seconds, the billionaire CEO disappeared. There was no empire. No enemies. No secrets. Just an older brother annoying his little sister.

Then Gabriella became quiet. Too quiet. Eliam noticed immediately.

“What happened?”

She looked at the music box beside her plate.

“Miss Hart is nice.”

He watched her.

“Yes.”

“Can she come here?”

He placed his tablet down.

“Gabriella.”

“Please.”

“No.”

Her face fell.

“Why?”

“Because we don’t invite people we don’t know into our home.”

“But I know her.”

“You know her from school.”

“She helps me.”

Eliam softened slightly.

“I know.”

“Then why can’t she come?”

Because she might be dangerous. Because she might be connected to the murder of your mother. Because the world had taught him kindness was often a disguise. But he couldn’t say those things to a four-year-old.

“Because some people need time.”

Gabriella looked thoughtful.

“Do you need time?”

The question caught him off guard.

“What?”

“With people.”

He stared at her. Children asked dangerous questions without knowing it.

“I don’t understand.”

She shrugged.

“Mommy used to say your heart was too big, but you hide it.”

Eliam froze. His hand slowly moved away from the tablet.

“Gabriella…”

“She said one day someone would find it.”

His throat tightened.

“Did Mommy say that?”

Gabriella nodded.

“She said you would know when it happened.”

A silence filled the room.

Then the lights flickered. Once. Twice. Every security screen in the penthouse went black.

Eliam immediately stood. The peaceful moment disappeared. The man who protected the Blackwood empire returned.

“Luca.” His voice changed, cold and alert.

Within seconds, security alarms activated. Guards moved through the penthouse. Gabriella looked frightened.

“Eli?”

He walked toward her.

“Stay with me.”

But before he could reach her… every screen in the room turned back on. A single image appeared: an old, damaged photograph of his mother. And written beneath it were four words:

SHE DIDN’T DIE ALONE.

Eliam stared at the screen because whoever sent the message knew something he didn’t—something about the night his mother died, and something that could destroy everything he believed.