Christopher
The moment Claire left his office, the air shifted.
Christopher remained by his desk, fingers flexing at his sides. He should have kept his distance. Should have let her believe whatever she wanted.
Instead, he had let something slip-something he hadn't intended.
And Claire had caught it.
A muscle ticked in his jaw as he exhaled, grabbing his blazer from the chair. He had spent years perfecting the art of control, yet in the span of minutes, Claire had managed to unravel something in him he hadn't expected.
The way she had looked at him like she saw through him, was unsettling.
And the worst part?
She wasn't entirely wrong.
---
Claire
The hallways were alive with movement-students chatting, footsteps echoing against the polished floors. But Claire felt detached from it all.
Her conversation with Christopher lingered in her mind, like a thread she couldn't untangle.
Maybe you should do both.
What was that supposed to mean?
She shook her head, gripping the strap of her bag as she turned a corner. Chloe had already texted her twice, probably wondering where she was, but Claire wasn't ready to talk. Not yet.
Her thoughts were too jumbled.
And then-
The feeling returned.
That strange, crawling sensation along the back of her neck.
Claire slowed her steps.
This wasn't the first time she had felt it. Over the last couple of days, there had been moments-brief, fleeting-where she had the sense of being watched.
She had brushed it off. Convinced herself she was being paranoid.
But now, as she stood in the hallway, she couldn't shake it.
Her gaze flickered toward the courtyard visible through the windows.
Nothing.
Yet, unease settled in her stomach.
She inhaled, exhaling slowly before forcing herself to keep moving. She wasn't about to start jumping at shadows.
Still-
Her fingers twitched as she pulled out her phone, hesitating before typing a message.
> Claire: Did you tell anyone to keep an eye on me?
She stared at the screen for a moment before hitting send.
A minute passed. Then another.
Just when she was about to put her phone away, the reply came.
> Christopher: No. Why?
Claire's grip tightened on her phone.
She shouldn't say anything. It was probably nothing.
But her gut told her otherwise.
> Claire: No reason. Forget I asked.
She slipped her phone back into her bag, pushing forward.
But deep down, she knew this wasn't over.
---
Christopher
Christopher stared at his phone, his expression hardening.
Claire was lying.
He knew it the second he read her message.
His fingers hovered over the screen before he locked the phone, slipping it into his pocket.
Something was going on.
And if Claire wasn't going to tell him-
He would find out himself.
Claire
Claire had always trusted her instincts. It was what had kept her grounded, what had driven her to succeed, and more than once had warned her of things before they happened.
And right now, her instincts were screaming.
She sat at the small table near the campus café, her fingers idly stirring her coffee as Chloe talked about something-probably about the latest drama in their department-but Claire wasn't listening. Her mind was elsewhere.
It had been two days since she had texted Christopher. Two days since she had started feeling the presence lurking in the shadows, always just out of sight.
At first, she had told herself she was imagining things. That maybe the stress of everything-the club, the hotel, Christopher-was finally getting to her.
But then there were moments that she couldn't ignore.
Like last night, when she had been walking back to their apartment with Chloe and had sworn she heard footsteps behind them, only for Chloe to turn and see nothing.
Or that morning when she felt eyes on her while sitting in the library, her skin prickling even though no one seemed to be looking at her.
It wasn't paranoia. It wasn't just in her head.
Someone was watching her.
"Claire."
She blinked, finally registering Chloe's voice.
"Are you even listening?" Chloe huffed, taking a sip of her juice. "You've been spacing out a lot lately. Are you okay?"
Claire forced a smile. "Yeah. Just tired."
Chloe studied her, unconvinced. "Tired or overthinking?"
"Both."
Chloe narrowed her eyes. "Does this have anything to do with him?"
Claire tensed. She didn't have to ask who he was.
"No." That was a lie. A partial one, at least.
Chloe didn't seem to buy it, but she let it go. "Fine. Keep your secrets."
Claire almost laughed. Almost. But the weight in her chest wouldn't let her.
Her phone buzzed against the table. She glanced down.
Christopher: Come to my office after your last class. Don't ignore this.
Her pulse jumped.
She knew he had picked up on her strange text from the other day. Knew that if she went to see him, he would push for answers.
But wasn't that what she wanted?
To have someone else acknowledge that she wasn't imagining things?
"Who's that?" Chloe leaned over.
Claire locked her phone before she could see. "No one."
She grabbed her coffee, taking a slow sip.
If she was going to Christopher's office, she needed to be ready.
Because if she wasn't careful, she was afraid she might let too much slip.
***
Christopher
Christopher leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled as he stared at the entrance to his office.
He knew Claire would come.
He had spent the past two days doing what he did best observing and calculating. And what he had discovered didn't sit well with him.
Claire wasn't being paranoid.
People were watching her.
At first, he had assumed it was Xavier's having someone keep an eye on her for safety. But after a brief conversation with him, Christopher knew that wasn't the case.
Which meant someone else was interested in Claire.
And that was a problem.
A sharp knock pulled him from his thoughts.
"Come in."
The door opened, and there she was.
Claire stepped inside, her posture tense, her gaze wary. She looked like she was ready for a battle but wasn't sure which side he was on.
Christopher gestured to the seat across from him. "Close the door."
She hesitated, then did as he asked before walking over and sitting down.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Christopher leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. "Tell me what's going on."
Claire exhaled, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He arched a brow. "Really? Then why did you ask me if I had someone watching you?"
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "It was a stupid question. Forget I asked."
"No." His voice was firm, his gaze unwavering. "I won't forget. And neither will you."
Claire swallowed. "Christopher-"
"You're being watched." He didn't phrase it as a question.
Claire's fingers twitched. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't lie to me." His voice was quieter now, but no less intense. "I know you've noticed it. And I also know you're trying to convince yourself it's nothing."
Claire's breath caught.
Damn him.
Damn, the way he could see through her like this.
She had spent years perfecting the art of keeping people at arm's length, of never letting anyone get too close.
And yet, Christopher Miller had slipped through the cracks.
She looked away. "It's not a big deal."
Christopher's jaw ticked. "It is a big deal."
Silence.
Then, carefully, he asked, "When did this start?"
Claire hesitated. "The club."
Christopher's eyes darkened.
She swallowed, glancing at him. "I thought it was just in my head at first. But it's not. It's getting worse."
Christopher leaned back, processing this.
If it had started at the club, then this wasn't random.
Which meant whoever was watching Claire had a reason.
And he was going to find out what it was.
He exhaled, standing up.
Claire blinked. "What are you doing?"
"I need to make a call."
Claire frowned. "To who?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he moved toward the window, his back to her. "Stay away from the café for a while."
Claire stiffened. "Why?"
"Just do it."
She studied him. "Christopher..."
He turned, his expression unreadable.
"You're not alone in this." His voice was softer now, but still firm. "So stop acting like you have to be."
Claire's throat tightened.
She didn't trust people easily. But Christopher-
He made her want to.
And that terrified her.
*****
Elsewhere
A man sat in the dimly lit office, fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair.
"She's starting to notice," one of his men muttered.
The man exhaled a slow, calculated breath.
"Good."
His gaze flickered to the photograph on the desk.
Claire.
The girl who had unknowingly walked into his world.
And if she was smart, she would stay out of it.
Because the last person who had crossed paths with Christopher Miller had lost everything.
And this time-
He intended to finish what was started.