Chapter Two
Ray Chen
I don't know why my hands are shaking.
I tell myself it's the cold. Or the long day. Or the fact that the elevator is taking forever to descend from the executive floor, humming softly like it doesn't understand the urgency pounding through my chest.
But I know that's a lie.
It's him.
Sebastian Maddox.
I press the button for the lobby again, even though it's already lit. My reflection stares back at me from the mirrored wall—hair a little messy, cardigan slipping off one shoulder, eyes brighter than they should be for someone this tired.
I look… affected.
Which is ridiculous. He barely said anything. Barely looked at me, even. He didn't flirt. Didn't smile. Didn't do anything that would explain the way my skin still feels tight, like the air around me changed the moment he stepped close.
People talk about him in whispers.
Not often. And never loudly.
The CEO's brother. The quiet one. The scary one. The one you don't email unless you want your entire department audited by morning.
I'd never spoken to him before tonight.
The elevator doors open, and I step into the empty lobby, my heels echoing too loudly. The security guard nods at me, distracted by his phone. Normal. Everything is normal.
So why does it feel like I'm being watched?
I shake the thought away and push through the revolving doors, the cool night air brushing my face. The city lights blur together as I walk toward the subway entrance, my mind replaying the moment over and over again.
The way he stood too close.The way his voice didn't rise, didn't soften.The way it sounded like he was used to being obeyed.
You should go home.
Not please.Not if you want.
Just—go.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and I jump, heart stuttering before I look down.
CEO: You left already?
I type back quickly.
Me: Yes, sir. Everything's sorted for tomorrow. Have a good night!
A smiley face. I always add a smiley face.
It's easier when people think you're harmless.
The train ride home is uneventful. I sit between strangers, scrolling mindlessly, but every time my eyes close, I see him—dark suit, sharp eyes, the way the finance guy practically fled when Sebastian appeared.
I hadn't noticed that part at first.
I notice it now.
At home, I kick off my shoes and drop my bag by the door, the silence of my apartment wrapping around me. I turn on the lamp, then the TV, just to fill the space.
I shouldn't be thinking about him.I shouldn't even care.
Men like Sebastian Maddox exist in a different world—cold, distant, dangerous in a way that doesn't bruise skin but leaves marks anyway. I'm just a secretary. I organize schedules. I remind people to eat lunch. I stay late because things fall apart if I don't.
That's it.
Still, when I brush my teeth, I catch myself staring at my reflection again, fingers lifting to my jaw absentmindedly, like I can still feel the ghost of his presence there.
It makes no sense.
I crawl into bed and pull the covers up to my chin, staring at the ceiling. My phone buzzes again on the nightstand.
Unknown number.
I frown, then open it.
Unknown: You got home safely.
My breath catches.
I sit up slowly, staring at the screen.
I don't remember giving anyone my number.
My fingers hover over the keyboard.
Me: Who is this?
The reply comes almost instantly.
Unknown: Sleep, Ray.
My name.
A chill slides down my spine, sharp and unmistakable. I glance toward the door, then the window, heart pounding louder now.
I type back, trying to sound calm.
Me: I think you have the wrong number.
Three dots appear. Disappear.Then:
Unknown: I don't make mistakes.
The phone slips from my hand onto the bed.
I tell myself it's nothing. A coincidence. Someone from work messing around. That I'm being dramatic.
But deep down, something quiet and instinctive whispers a truth I don't want to hear.
This isn't coincidence.
This is attention.
And somehow, without realizing when or how—
I have it.