Sarah couldn't shake his eyes from her mind.
Cold grey.
Sharp as ice.
Yet something in them had burned like he saw right through her soul and recognized something no one else could see.
All morning, her thoughts returned to him, uninvited and unwelcome.
Alexander Reed.
Assistant professor. Business department.
A man who shouldn't even exist in her memory.
She had remembered every face, every betrayal, every cruel whisper from her first life… but not his.
And that terrified her.
Because in a story she thought she already knew, a new player had appeared.
By noon, Sarah found herself sitting in his lecture hall, pretending to scroll through her notes while her pulse betrayed her calm façade.
He stood at the front of the room, tall and composed, every movement deliberate.
He wasn't the type to smile for approval or raise his voice for attention.
He commanded attention effortlessly.
"Business," he began, voice smooth but cold, "isn't about fairness. It's about control. The one who controls the narrative controls the world."
His eyes swept across the class and for one fleeting second, they locked onto hers.
Sarah froze.
It wasn't just a glance.
It was like he recognized her.
The air between them thickened. She couldn't breathe.
When he finally looked away, Sarah's heart was a storm. What was that?
After class, she gathered her bag quickly, hoping to leave before he noticed her again. But just as she turned toward the door, his voice cut through the low chatter:
"Miss Morgan."
Her steps halted.
Every student turned. He stood by the desk, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on her like a laser.
"Yes, sir?" she asked, her voice calm even as her pulse trembled.
"Stay behind."
Murmurs rippled through the room. By the time the last student filed out, the silence was thick enough to choke on.
Sarah stayed by the doorway, keeping her distance. "Did I do something wrong?"
His lips twitched not quite a smile. "Not yet. But you… seem distracted."
She blinked. "Just… adjusting to the new semester."
"Adjusting," he repeated softly, like he didn't believe her. "Or remembering?"
Her blood went cold. "Excuse me?"
He stepped closer. Slowly. Controlled. Like a predator studying prey that intrigued him more than it should.
"When I looked at you this morning," he said, voice lower now, "it felt like we'd met before."
Sarah's heart stopped.
Impossible.
She forced a laugh. "Maybe I just have one of those faces."
"Maybe." His eyes didn't waver. "But the way you looked at me…" He tilted his head. "Like you knew me. Or like you were afraid of what I might know about you."
The room suddenly felt too small.
Her fingers curled around the strap of her bag. "You're imagining things."
He smiled cold, amused, dangerous. "I don't imagine things, Miss Morgan. I observe them."
Sarah turned to leave, desperate to escape before she said something foolish.
"Wait."
His voice stopped her again, softer this time. "If you're in trouble, or if someone's threatening you… tell me."
Her breath caught. Threatening me?
He couldn't possibly know. Unless
Unless fate was playing with her again.
She forced herself to turn, meeting his eyes squarely. "I can handle myself, Professor Reed."
"I'm sure you can," he murmured. "But sometimes, strength attracts danger."
There was something in his tone a strange, almost protective warning that made her heartbeat stumble.
"I'll remember that," she said, her voice barely steady.
As she left, she could feel his eyes following her until the door closed behind her.
Outside, Sarah leaned against the cool wall, her breath shaking.
Her mind raced. How did he know? What did he see?
In her first life, no one had ever looked at her that way.
Not even her husband.
Alexander's gaze wasn't affectionate. It was knowing.
It was as if he could see the fracture between her souls the line between past and present.
She clenched her fists.
If he was going to be part of this new timeline, she needed to know why.
That night, Sarah couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him his unreadable stare, his voice echoing in her mind.
Finally, near midnight, she sat up and opened her laptop. Her fingers flew over the keyboard.
Alexander Reed.
Search results loaded instantly.
Born in New York. Educated at Oxford. Youngest CEO to build and sell a multimillion-dollar investment firm before mysteriously stepping into academia.
A ghost in the system. No family. No scandals. No history before five years ago.
Sarah frowned. "You're hiding something."
Her cursor hovered over a forum link an old thread that mentioned him briefly. She clicked it.
One post stood out:
"He shouldn't exist. I met him ten years ago he hasn't aged a day."
Her breath hitched.
Her hand trembled as she reread the line.
He hasn't aged a day.
Cold dread crawled up her spine.
Her mind screamed that it was impossible… but her heart whispered otherwise.
Could it be that he, too, had lived another life?
Could it be… he remembered?
Thunder rumbled in the distance, shaking her window.
And for a fleeting moment, as lightning lit the room, Sarah could have sworn she saw a figure standing across the street under a black umbrella looking straight at her window.
Grey eyes glinted in the storm.
Her phone buzzed on the desk.
A new message. Unknown number.
Be careful what you search for, Sarah. Some pasts aren't meant to be rewritten.
The phone slipped from her hand. Her heart stopped.
How did he know?
Outside, the rain fell harder like the heavens themselves warning her that fate was watching.