Under His Watchful Eyes

Elena’s PoV

"Elena Vance? Marketing?"

A woman with a clinical smile and a sleek headset stared at me from behind a marble desk.

"Yes," I said, my voice steady practicing my mask. The one that told the world I was perfectly fine. "It’s my first day."

"Elevator B. Forty-second floor. Mr. Vane is expecting the morning analytics."

I stepped into the lift, and the doors slid shut with a silent, heavy thud. The ascent felt like a vacuum. My ears popped as the floor numbers climbed higher and higher.

When the doors finally hissed open, I wasn't met with the bustling office environment as I expected. Instead, at the end of a long hall, a set of double doors stood wide open.

A man was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his back to me.

He was tall, his shoulders broad under a charcoal suit that looked like it cost more than my entire education. Short black hair, perfectly groomed.

Even from behind, he radiated a kind of predatory stillness that made the hair on my arms stand up.

"Mr. Vane?" I whispered.

He turned.

His eyes were the first thing I noticed. Ocean blue, cold as a winter tide, and filled with a terrifyingly familiar intensity.

He looked at me, and for a split second, I felt like a freshman again, standing in the library at St. Jude’s Academy, trembling under the gaze of the school's untouchable king.

But that was impossible.

Julian Vane had been a legend, a boy years ahead of me. He wouldn't remember a quiet girl from the back of the assembly hall.

"Ms. Vance," he said. His voice was a low, melodic hum that vibrated in my chest. "You're late."

"I... the traffic."

"I don't care about the traffic," he interrupted, stepping closer.

He moved with a grace that was entirely too smooth for a man his size. He stopped just inches from me, and the scent of his cologne wrapped around me.

"In this building, your time belongs to me. Do you understand?"

I swallowed hard, forcing my "everything is fine" smile back onto my face. "Of course, Mr. Vane. It won't happen again."

He stared at me for a long beat, his eyes tracing the line of my jaw, my neck, finally settling on my eyes. He didn't smile back. He looked at me like he was reading the fine print of a contract.

"You look... familiar," I ventured, the words escaping before I could stop them.

Julian didn't blink. "Do I? I suppose I have one of those faces."

He gestured to a desk positioned just outside his glass-walled office.

"That is your station. You will find your credentials and your first assignment waiting for you. Welcome to Vane Enterprises, Elena. Try to stay focused."

He turned and walked into his office without another word.

I sat down at the desk, my hands trembling. I forced myself to work, to dive into the spreadsheets and market analytics.

But the feeling of being watched was absolute.

Every time I looked up, I could see Julian through the glass.

He wasn't always looking at me,sometimes he was on the phone, sometimes reading but the weight of his presence was like a physical hand on my shoulder.

Around noon, a courier dropped a small package on my desk. There was no note.

I opened it, and my heart stopped.

Inside was a small, crumpled box of lemon drops.

Not just any brand.

The specific, obscure brand from my hometown that I used to eat when I was a child. The kind my father used to buy me after a long day at the tracks.

My breath hitched. My eyes darted around the office. How?

I pulled my phone out to text Sarah, my best friend . Someone sent me the candy. The lemon drops. Do you think Mark found out where I am?

A second later, Sarah replied: OMG El, stay calm! It’s probably just a coincidence. Or maybe he’s trying to scare you. Don't let him win! Call me later.

I tried to breathe, but the air felt like lead. I shoved the candy into my drawer and looked up.

Julian was standing at his glass wall, a phone to his ear, his blue eyes locked onto mine.

He didn't look surprised. He looked expectant.

I spent the next four hours in a blur of paranoia.

Every time the elevator chimed, I jumped.

Every shadow that moved in the hallway looked like Mark’s silhouette.

By 6:00 PM, the office had cleared out. The sun was setting over the sky of Vegas, turning the cloud a bruised purple.

I packed my bag, my fingers fumbling with my keys, when I saw it.

Sitting on top of my bag was a necklace. A simple silver chain with a small, tarnished star pendant.

I let out a choked gasp, dropping my keys.

I had lost this necklace at my high school prom, six years ago. I had cried for weeks over it. It was the last thing my mother had given me before she passed.

"Is there a problem, Ms. Vance?"

I whirled around. Julian was standing in the doorway of his office, his coat over his arm.

"This," I said, holding up the necklace, my voice shaking. "I... I lost this years ago. In another state. How did it get here?"

Julian walked toward me, his expression unreadable.

He reached out and took the necklace from my palm, his gloved fingers brushing mine.

"Perhaps it was never really lost," he whispered. "Perhaps it was just waiting for the right time to return to you."

"Did you find this?" I asked, my mind racing.

"Did someone send this to you?"

"I find many things, Elena," he said softly. He stepped into my personal space, his height looming over me. "Things that people don't know how to treasure. Things that need to be kept safe."

Before I could ask what he meant, my phone buzzed in my hand.

A text from an unknown number.

[Unknown]: I see you, Elena. I see you with him. You think he can protect you? He’s the reason I lost everything. I'm outside. Come down, or I'm coming up.

I felt the blood drain from my face. Mark. He was here. He was downstairs.

I looked at the text, then at Julian. My "cold" exterior shattered. The mask I’d worn all day fell away, leaving me raw and terrified.

"He's here," I whispered, showing Julian the phone. "My ex. He found me."

Julian took the phone from my hand, his eyes scanning the text.

A dark, dangerous flicker passed through his ocean blue eyes. Not of surprise, but of a cold, simmering rage.

"Who’s he ?" Julian asked, his voice dropping to a predatory growl.

"He says he's coming up," I sobbed, clutching Julian’s arm without thinking. "Please, I can't see him. I can't"

Julian didn't pull away. He draped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into the hard, solid heat of his body.

"He isn't coming anywhere near you, Elena. Not today. Not ever again."

He picked up his desk phone and pressed a single button. "Security. There is a man at the north entrance. Remove him. And make sure he understands that this property is off-limits permanently."

Julian looked back at me, his gaze dropping to my lips before returning to my eyes. "You're going to stay with me tonight. For your safety."

"I... I have an apartment"

"You have a target on your back," Julian corrected, his grip on my arm tightening just a fraction. "And as your employer, it’s my responsibility to ensure my assets are protected."

He led me toward the private executive elevator.

As the doors opened, I looked back at my desk.

The lemon drops were still in the drawer.

The necklace was in Julian’s pocket.

I felt a surge of relief. Julian was my savior. He was the only one powerful enough to stop Mark.

But as the elevator descended toward the private garage, I didn't see the screen on Julian’s desk. It was a live feed of the alleyway behind my apartment, three miles away.

And I didn't see the second text message on Julian’s private phone, sent to a man named Mark Thorne five minutes earlier:

[Julian]: Drive to the north entrance now. Look up at the window. Make her see you. Your payment is in the usual spot.

Julian smiled as he looked at me, a small, broken smile that didn't reach his cold, blue eyes.

"Don't worry, Elena," he whispered as the doors closed. "I've been planning this first day for ten years. It’s going exactly as I intended."