Chapter 18:Safe Hands

I sent a message to the unknown number. I wrote whatever came to mind, one thought after another, but there was no reply.

The next morning, I went to work anyway. I walked into Steven's office already rehearsing my explanation, but I never got the chance to deliver it.

Steven was already waiting when I walked in. He looked up, and his gaze sharpened.

"Where is your phone?" he asked. "You haven't been picking up your calls."

I hesitated. Without meaning to, I clasped my hands in front of me, as though that small barrier could shield me from his temper.

"I lost it, sir. Last night. I promise I will replace it today after work."

He studied me for a long moment, then leaned closer. I had been careful not to look at him; I did not trust my eyes . But when I finally glanced up, I found him watching them, unblinking, as if the truth might be written there.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He straightened and said, "Come with me."

"Where are we going, sir?"

"Just come. You will know when we get there."

That was Steven all over. He had a habit of never telling me where we were headed, as though he had forgotten that I was his assistant and that part of my job was knowing his plans. It was not pleasant, but I had long since stopped expecting otherwise.

In the back of the car, I watched the road slide past the window, then watched Steven. He was giving the driver directions in short, clipped sentences, and not one of them told me anything. I folded my hands in my lap and waited.

When the car finally stopped, I understood. We were outside a shop that sold accessories and high-end phones.

We rode the elevator up in silence. When the doors opened, Steven walked in as though he owned the place, and I followed a step behind.

"Pick the one you prefer," he said.

I did not know how to respond. Apart from my family and my childhood friends, no one had ever given me a gift.

"Which color would you like, ma'am?" A saleswoman had been assigned to attend to us, and she smiled at me patiently.

"Black," Steven answered at once.

He did not wait for me to speak. He simply decided, the way he decided everything.

I turned to him, still unsure. "Is it…mine?"

"Yes."

He said it so simply.I had not asked for anything, and yet he had solved my problem before I could finish admitting I had one.

"Thank you, sir," I said, and my voice came out softer than I intended. "I really appreciate it."

"It is nothing." He slipped his hands into his pockets and looked away, as though the moment embarrassed him more than it did me.

I swallowed hard and held the new phone. In all the time I had worked for him, I had never seen this side of Steven, and I did not know where to put it.

Outside, the driver was waiting beside the car. Steven leaned against the door with one leg crossed over the other.

"We have nothing scheduled today, right?" he asked, turning to me.

I had checked his calendar the night before, so I simply nodded. If I had been given a choice, I would not have come in at all.

"Good. Since I have been busy for so long, I want to do something fun. Do either of you have any suggestions?" He wiggled his fingers in the air, inviting offers.

I stood there blank. Fun was not a word I had ever associated with him.

The driver cleared his throat. "Perhaps a football match, sir. Or basketball, or hockey. Or you could go for a swim."

"Fine. Thank you. Let's go."

We slid back into the car.

The first stop was a sports bar so loud that I could feel the noise in my chest. Before I knew it, I sat at the back watching Steven and his driver, was watching a football match on a screen the size of a wall. Each time their team scored, the two of them leapt up and roared. Steven shouted louder than anyone, his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled to the elbow.

I stared at him. He looked like a man who had not been heartbroken the day before. Perhaps he had only claimed to trust his fiancée to save his pride. Or perhaps he was drowning his pain in noise, filling every empty space with excitement so there would be no room left for sorrow.

Which one is it? I asked myself. I could not tell.

Our second stop was a private swimming club. The water was a perfect, glittering blue, and the air smelled of chlorine and sunscreen.

"You may do as you please," Steven told us. "Hang around, swim, rest. Whatever you want." Then he turned to me. "Will you stay?"

"Yes, sir."

But staying meant swimming, and I wanted to refuse. Then I remembered that Steven had already seen me at my most exposed. What was left to hide?

So I lowered myself into the pool and let the cool water close around my shoulders.My mind went quiet. I floated on my back and watched the sky, and the tension in my body slowly loosened.

He was acting strangely today. He was kind, almost gentle, and I could not understand why. It was a relief to work for a boss who did not shout at me, even if he had his unpleasant habits and could be careless about other people's feelings at times.

But kindness from a man like him came with questions, and I did not know whether I wanted the answers.

When the day ended, I did not go home. I went to Ethan's.

He opened the door, took one look at my face, and stepped aside to let me in. I told him everything: the unknown number, the messages that went unanswered, and the strange feeling that someone was watching me.

Ethan listened without interrupting. When I finished, his jaw was tight.

"I am certain Rui sent that person," he said. "Emilia, you need to be careful."

"I know," I said. "I will be. Really careful."

I had planned to leave before it got too late, but Ethan would not hear of it. He pleaded with me to stay the night, insisting that I should not be alone after everything I had just told him. It was a big deal, he said, and I agreed.

We decided to make dinner together. The kitchen filled with the warm smell of onions and garlic, and I stood at the counter chopping vegetables, grateful for something simple to do with my hands. For a few minutes, I almost felt normal.

Then I felt a warm touch at my waist.

"I must say," Ethan murmured, "you have a very nice waistline."

I froze. The knife stilled in my hand.

"What?" I turned around slowly, my heart pounding. Ethan had never touched me like that. He had no right to. "Ethan, did you just touch me?"

"Yes." He shrugged, as if it were nothing. "I do not see anything wrong with that."

Something cold settled in my chest.

“What?” My eyebrows drew together in confusion, I stared at Ethan, making sure he was the one standing there.