Chapter Two

Daisy POV

I pinched the bridge of my nose as I stepped into the bright, sunlit lobby of the resort. The weekend retreat was supposed to be a break, a chance to bond with colleagues outside the office. But for me, it felt like stepping into a pressure cooker. I wasn’t here to socialize. I was here to survive.

And survive meant staying invisible.

Easier said than done when Liam Villarreal billionaire, CEO, untouchable was watching everything.

I tried to blend into the crowd, offering polite nods and smiles to the people I recognized. My notebook clutched to my chest, I moved with calculated caution, avoiding any extended eye contact.

The last thing I needed was to draw attention from the man who had every power to ruin my career with a single glance.

But it was too late.

He was leaning against a wall, arms crossed, surveying the room like a general observing his battlefield. The moment our eyes met, I felt that familiar prickle of anxiety, that pull I could neither explain nor resist. I reminded myself, firmly: he was off-limits.

“You’re late.” The words cut through the noise like a blade, calm but sharp, carrying that unmistakable weight that made everyone else feel invisible. I swallowed, adjusting my posture.

“Traffic was unexpected,” I stammered, trying to sound casual. My voice sounded small even to me.

“Of course,” he replied, voice low, deliberate, lingering just enough to make me aware that he wasn’t just addressing me; he was marking me. Observing me.

I found a seat at the far end of the table, careful to avoid being too close. I didn’t want him to notice every little twitch, every nervous movement, but somehow, I could feel his gaze like heat against my skin. I kept my head down, pretending to focus on the meeting agenda, but my thoughts kept drifting. How did he manage to make me feel so exposed even when I was trying my hardest not to be seen?

The first activity of the retreat was a team-building exercise one of those painfully cliche scenarios where everyone pretends to bond while secretly calculating who could be a threat or asset. I stayed quiet, letting others speak first, analyzing every detail of the discussion.

Then he spoke my name.

“Daisy, your input?”

My stomach flipped. All eyes turned toward me. I hadn’t expected to be called on, and now I was caught between the fear of speaking and the fear of being overlooked. I took a deep breath, remembering every late night, every hour I’d spent preparing, and I spoke. My voice was steady, my words precise, cutting through the noise.

The team adjusted immediately, following the solution I suggested. A ripple of impressed murmurs passed through the room. And then… I caught his eyes again.

Liam. That smirk on his face. That subtle tilt of his head that said, not bad.

I flushed. How dare he make me feel small and praised all at once?

Lunch was a blur. I tried to eat, tried to focus on something other than him, but it was impossible. Every time I reached for a glass, every time I took a bite, I felt his eyes on me, judging, assessing, and… something else I couldn’t name.

I didn’t want to like him. I couldn’t. The rules were simple: keep your head down, do your job, and never, ever mix business with pleasure. But he had this way of making every glance feel loaded, every word feel personal.

When we were excused for a short break, I wandered toward the veranda, needing air, needing space, needing to escape the weight of his presence. The ocean stretched out in front of me, gold and amber under the sun, and for a moment, I felt almost… normal. Almost free.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

I jumped slightly, turning to see him beside me. I had been so focused on the horizon that I hadn’t even heard him approach. My notebook slipped slightly in my hands, and I quickly caught it.

“I—I didn’t realize anyone else was out here,” I stammered, trying to hide the flutter in my chest.

He chuckled softly, a low, controlled sound that made my stomach tighten. “Relax. I don’t bite. Not outside of board meetings.”

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to relax. But something about him, something about the way he observed me, made it impossible.

“Do you… ever get a break?” I asked cautiously, unsure why I was even speaking.

He glanced at me, eyes narrowing slightly, and then back at the horizon. “Breaks are rare. But worth it when you find the right company.”

My heart skipped. Did he mean me? No. It’s impossible.

The evening dinner was another challenge. The room was buzzing with chatter, glasses clinking, laughter, all of it a backdrop to the constant awareness of him. He wasn’t sitting next to me, thankfully, but I could feel the tension in the space he occupied. It was magnetic. And terrifying.

I tried to stay composed, but I noticed the subtle ways he observed me: the tilt of his head, the slow scan from head to toe, the faint smirk when I tried to appear casual. I kept my responses polite, brief, careful.

Each word was calculated, each movement deliberate. I wasn’t just playing a role I was guarding my livelihood, my life.

After dinner, the retreat organizers announced an optional evening walk along the resort grounds. I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to be alone with him. And yet, curiosity pulled me forward, like gravity I couldn’t resist.

We walked in silence at first, the soft crunch of gravel under our feet the only sound. My heart raced with every step.

“You don’t have to walk with me,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I choose to,” he said simply, voice calm, commanding.

I froze, my pulse spiking. That one sentence carried weight, intention, and… something else. Something dangerous.

“Liam…” I started, unsure what to say. Words failed me.

“You don’t have to explain anything,” he said softly. His gaze met mine, unwavering, intense. I felt stripped bare under that look, every secret, every fear laid out in the open.

I swallowed hard. Every instinct told me to step back, to retreat into safety, to remember the rules. And yet… I didn’t. I couldn’t.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of tension, stolen glances, and charged silences. He didn’t say much, and neither did I, but the space between us thrummed with unspoken words. I could feel it in every heartbeat, every step, every nervous inhale.

By the time we returned to our rooms, I knew something had shifted. Something dangerous. Something exhilarating. And I hated myself for it.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the notebook in my hands. Every page, every plan, every carefully measured action felt irrelevant now. Liam Villarreal was a force I couldn’t predict, couldn’t control, and definitely shouldn’t want.

And yet… I did.

I didn’t know what would happen next, or how I was going to survive the weekend without losing control, without letting him see too much. But one thing was certain my world had tilted, and Liam Villarreal was the epicenter.