Evelyn stared at the man a few seconds longer than she should have. His features were sharp, almost too precise to be simply beautiful. Every movement seemed measured, every glance calculated, yet natural. He didn't smile. His gaze was neither insistent nor evasive. Just… attentive. Professional. Like someone who had learned to see everything without ever revealing anything.
"Hayes will be in charge of your security," Whitman continued. "He will be at your disposal day and night."
"Day and night?" Evelyn repeated, curious despite herself.
Nathan, who had just entered the hall, answered for her almost mechanically.
"Yes. It's necessary."
He didn't really look at her. He addressed the situation, not her. And strangely, that reassured her. Evelyn was used to forced attentions, gestures that were too calculated, or staring eyes. But here, there was just… enough. Not too much, not too little. Exactly what was necessary.
"Very well," she said simply, surprised by the neutrality in her own voice.
Hayes inclined his head slightly.
"I will ensure your safety, Evelyn."
The name sounded different in his mouth. Less distant, almost respectful. Evelyn felt a light, imperceptible shiver run down her neck. As if this simple word, spoken that way, awakened something she had long thought extinguished.
"You can call me Evelyn," she said without thinking.
A brief silence settled, almost imperceptible. But long enough for her to feel Hayes' presence weigh in the air.
"Very well… Evelyn," he replied calmly.
Nathan slightly furrowed his brows but said nothing. Evelyn caught him watching from the corner of her eye, a calculating glint in his gaze. Perhaps he too felt… replaced.
The house tour was quick. Functional. Hayes asked few questions but observed everything: the angles, the windows, the exits, every detail that might matter. Evelyn followed him without really listening, aware of his presence in a way she hadn't felt in years. For the first time in a long time, someone was paying attention to her surroundings… for her.
Every step echoed on the polished floor. She noticed the shadows cast by the lamp light on the walls. The air was slightly cool, scented with wood and wax. She imagined Hayes memorizing every corner, every possible path someone might take to approach. He was everywhere, yet he didn't steal her space.
In the kitchen, she observed his measured movements as he tested cabinet handles, glanced at the windows, always silent, always attentive. Evelyn felt an unusual fascination stir within her. How could someone be so perfectly calm, so methodical, and yet exert a presence so… heavy with meaning? A presence that, despite everything, neither pressed nor demanded.
"Do you have routines, Evelyn?" he asked suddenly, his voice neutral yet curiously soft.
Evelyn raised her eyebrows, surprised by the question.
"Routines…?" she repeated.
"In the morning, in the evening. The rooms you frequent the most. The times when you are alone. I need to know all this to… ensure your safety."
She almost smiled involuntarily. Was it a compliment? An attention? She didn't know. But for the first time in years, she felt… observed with interest that wasn't oppressive, just attentive.
Evening fell quickly. Nathan had a quick dinner, glancing at his watch every few minutes.
"I'm leaving at dawn tomorrow," he announced. "A week, maybe two."
"Alright," she said somewhat mechanically.
He kissed her cheek, distractedly, then went upstairs to bed. Evelyn followed a few moments later, walking through the silent hallways to their bedroom. She lay down, but sleep eluded her. The sheets were cold, the silence too dense. She turned over, stared at the ceiling, but her eyes barely closed.
In the middle of the night, unable to find rest, she finally got up. The hallways were plunged into near-total darkness. Evelyn walked to the living room, took a cup of tea, and settled by the window. The warm liquid slid down her throat, calming her swirling mind for a moment. She placed the cup on the sill and leaned toward the glass, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. The stars shone high in the sky, each twinkling with almost unreal clarity.
Then, almost by chance, her eyes drifted to the pool. And what she saw left her breathless.
In the clear water, someone was swimming. A nude silhouette, fluid, perfect in movement. Every gesture seemed both calculated and instinctive. The arms cut through the water with soft, controlled force; the legs propelled the body gracefully. Muscles rippled under the skin as if dancing with each ripple. Water slid over every contour, over every line, and the moonlight cast reflections on the wet skin, illuminating every detail of the athletic, harmonious body.
Evelyn felt something vibrate inside her, a diffuse warmth, a shiver she had never known. She had never seen such beauty, never felt the awe of a body in motion, so perfect and alive, in total freedom. Each dive into the water, each precise movement, awakened a desire she had never imagined. It wasn't merely physical. It was a mixture of fascination, wonder, and latent desire, an intense yet gentle curiosity making its way into her heart and body.
She leaned against the glass, holding her breath to not miss a moment of the spectacle. The reflection of the water in her eyes blended with the silver moonlight, creating an almost unreal vision. Evelyn felt her heart beat faster, warmth spreading through her stomach and back, a shiver running down her neck. The cool night air contrasted with the rising heat in her own body. She had never felt this: the simultaneous awakening of mind and desire, a mixture of curiosity, admiration, and anticipation.
She observed the fluidity of the movements, the controlled strength of each stroke, the way the water hugged the body. Muscles revealed themselves with every arm stroke, every kick, and Evelyn found herself feeling an almost physical fascination, an awe at life manifesting in its purest and most sensual form.
A breath escaped her lips. She couldn't look away. The person in the water, unaware of her presence, seemed to swim for her alone, each movement amplifying the soft tension rising within her. Evelyn felt her body awaken in a way she had never thought possible. Not an impulsive desire, but a gentle tension, a deep resonance, as if this vision awakened something primordial in her: the beauty of freedom, power, and life embodied in this moving body.
For the first time in years, Evelyn felt fully awake. Her mind, her heart, her body—all responded in this moment. She realized she had never felt this before. It was pure, simple, intense. An emotion that no words could ever contain.
She remained there, silent, fascinated, aware of every breath, every gesture, every reflection. The night around her, the stars above, the pool below… everything seemed orchestrated for this unique moment. And in that moment, Evelyn knew something in her had changed.