Under His Eyes

The next morning, I woke before my alarm. My heart had not stopped racing since the events of yesterday. Even now, the memory of his eyes, cold and sharp as ice, refused to leave me. I had imagined this reunion a thousand times—how I would explain, how I would beg for understanding—but none of those imaginings came close to the truth. None could prepare me for the way my body reacted just to being in the same room with him.

I dressed carefully, trying to look as neutral and professional as possible. No risks, no chances. I couldn’t take a chance of being noticed, not that I wanted anyone to notice Ethan Blackwood. Ethan Blackwood had once again become my world, and it scared me. Every time I thought about Ethan, I felt a constricting sensation in my chest, every time I looked at him, I felt weak in my knees, and every time I remembered the past, I felt a longing in my heart.

I decided to go to the office a little earlier than usual, hoping to get a head start, hoping maybe, just maybe, Ethan would not show up.

I was wrong. He was already there, standing by the window, staring out into the city with that same look on his face. The sun was shining on his face, and I could see the sharp angles of his features, the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, and the dark storm in his eyes that seemed to find me no matter where I went.

He didn’t acknowledge me as I slipped into the office, quietly taking my seat. But I could feel it. That invisible thread. The way his gaze, even without looking directly at me, made the air thick and impossible to breathe.

“Good morning,” I whispered to myself, barely audible.

And then he turned.

The moment his eyes met mine, I froze. I couldn’t tell what he was feeling. Hatred? Anger? Desire? All of it? My stomach twisted painfully, a mix of longing and fear that left me dizzy.

“You’re here early,” he said, his voice low, controlled, but with a hint of something unrecognizable—something almost soft.

I nodded, keeping my gaze on the spreadsheet in front of me. “Yes, sir,” I murmured, my fingers trembling slightly.

“Good,” he said. “We’ll start immediately.”

He didn’t say more, but the air between us was charged. I could feel his presence like heat radiating against my skin. Every movement he made, every breath, every glance in my direction reminded me of everything I had lost and everything I still wanted.

The first task he assigned me was simple on paper: review financial statements for an upcoming merger. But he didn’t just hand them to me. He sat behind me, close enough that I could feel his presence without even looking back, his hand resting on the edge of my desk. I could smell him—clean, sharp, intoxicating. My fingers shook as I scrolled through the numbers.

“Check these carefully,” he said quietly, leaning slightly closer. “One mistake, and you’ll cost the company millions.”

I swallowed, nodding. “Of course. I’ll double-check everything.”

“Good,” he said again, and then straightened, moving back to his chair. But the electricity didn’t leave me. Every time he shifted, every time he moved, I felt it deep in my chest—a painful, beautiful reminder of the love I had never stopped feeling for him.

Hours passed. Every now and then, he would stand behind me, watching silently, almost as if daring me to fail. Every glance, every small movement, made my heart race, made my thoughts scatter. I could barely concentrate, my mind torn between the spreadsheet and the memory of him kissing me on a rainy night, promising he would never let anything hurt us.

I tried to focus. I really did. But then it happened.

A subtle touch. Not intentional—or maybe it was. I don’t know. He leaned closer to point at a number on the sheet. His hand brushed mine. Just a second. Barely noticeable. But my chest caught fire, my pulse sky-rocketed, and I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff. I wanted to pull away, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.

“You missed a zero here,” he said softly, his voice lower than before. “Double-check it.”

“Yes… sir,” I whispered. But my eyes were locked on his profile. I couldn’t look away. Not now. Not ever.

There was a tension in the room that went beyond work. It was electric, suffocating, and utterly irresistible. Every time I looked up, he caught my eyes and held them just a fraction too long. Every time I tried to focus, he distracted me without even speaking. I hated it. And I loved it.

At lunch, I went to the small cafeteria, hoping for some space, some respite from his presence. But he was there, already seated at a table in the corner. I froze for a moment, but the truth was unavoidable: I was drawn to him. Always had been, always would be.

“Sit,” he said, without looking up. Just a word, flat, commanding, and yet it sounded almost… gentle.

I hesitated, then obeyed. As I slid into the chair across from him, our knees brushed. A spark went through me, hot and dangerous. I felt exposed, but I couldn’t look away from him.

“You’re better than I remembered,” he said suddenly, his voice low, almost private. “And yet…” His gaze locked on mine, piercing, dangerous. “You’ve still got that stubborn streak. That streak that made me love you—and hate you—at the same time.”

I flinched. My heart skipped a beat. How did he remember everything? How could he say something so intimate, so personal, after all these years?

“I… I just want to do my job,” I whispered, my voice cracking slightly.

He leaned in closer, so that I could feel his heat. “Your job isn’t just a job, Sophia,” he said softly. “It’s survival under me. And right now…?” His eyes had darkened, a dangerous attraction in their depths. “I’m testing you.”

The air between us had grown thick. I knew that he wasn’t just talking about his spreadsheets. He was testing me, testing my loyalty, my heart, my mind. But I also saw, with a thrill of fear and desire, that I couldn’t hide from him. Not now. Not ever.

The lights flickered in the office, and a little alarm began to beep. “Unauthorized access detected,” a box read on one of the monitors. “Security breach in system.”

Ethan stood up at once, his hand almost moving to the edge of the table, as if to protect me. His eyes, so keen, scanned the room, calculating, dangerous.

And then his eyes came to mine. They softened, a moment of concern in his eyes that had been absent in years.

“They’re targeting you,” he said, almost whispering, and my breath caught. “Get out of here.”

Before I could respond, he stood abruptly, grabbing his phone. “Don’t move,” he ordered, and in that instant, I realized the truth: this was more than a test. This was real. My life was in danger.

And Ethan… he wasn’t going to let anything happen to me.

For the first time in years, my heart raced not just with fear, but with a dangerous, thrilling hope.

I didn’t know if I could trust him again. I didn’t know if I should.

But I knew one thing for certain: I was falling back into him, and this time… I might not survive the pull.