Chapter 3: Under His Watchful Eyes
The morning sun filtered through the large windows of Leonard Thorne's office, casting long shadows over the sleek, polished floor. Miss Sinclair stood at the doorway, her heart hammering against her chest. She had been summoned.
Her mind raced. It had only been a few days since she was transferred to his department, and already, the weight of his presence had started to feel like a shadow that followed her everywhere. Leonard Thorne cold, calculating, and impossibly attractive. A man whose very name sent shivers down the spine of everyone who worked under him. His reputation preceded him like a silent storm, unpredictable and fierce.
"Miss Sinclair," his voice, smooth and deep, cut through her thoughts, and she looked up, meeting his gaze across the room.
There he was, sitting behind his massive desk, his dark eyes piercing her from across the room. Leonard was dressed in his usual immaculate suit, his posture perfect, every movement calculated. He was, without a doubt, the epitome of power and control.
"You're late," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "We need to talk."
Her stomach dropped. She took a deep breath and walked toward his desk, each step feeling heavier than the last. The tension in the room was palpable, as though the air itself thickened whenever he was near.
"Yes, Mr. Thorne," she said, keeping her voice steady despite the nervousness creeping up her spine.
Leonard's gaze lingered on her for a moment too long. She could feel his eyes assessing her, as though he were peeling back the layers of her carefully crafted composure. She fought the urge to fidget under his scrutiny.
"Have a seat," he finally said, motioning to the chair across from him.
As she settled into the chair, Leonard leaned back in his seat, his fingers steepled in front of his lips. His eyes never left hers. There was something unsettlingly intense about the way he studied her, as though he could see every thought that flickered through her mind.
"You're a good worker, Miss Sinclair," he began, his tone neutral. "But I need to know that you can handle more than just the mundane tasks I've been assigning you. We're moving into a critical phase of the project, and I need someone who can think on their feet. Can I trust you with that?"
She wasn't sure if the question was rhetorical or if he truly expected an answer, but her heart beat a little faster. This was it—her chance to prove herself, to finally step out from the shadow of her past mistakes.
"Yes, Mr. Thorne. I can handle it."
Leonard's lips twitched ever so slightly, a smirk that was more dangerous than any smile she had ever seen. "I hope so, Miss Sinclair. Because I don't tolerate mistakes. And you won't want to disappoint me."
The weight of his words hung in the air, a subtle threat laced beneath his calm demeanor. His gaze didn't waver from her as he leaned forward, the intensity of his stare almost suffocating.
For a moment, the silence between them stretched on, thick with unspoken tension.
She cleared her throat, breaking the silence. "I'll do my best, Mr. Thorne. You can count on me."
His smile if it could even be called that, was fleeting. "I'm counting on you, Miss Sinclair. And I always get what I want."
The words lingered in the air long after she had left his office. She could feel his presence following her as she walked down the hallway, her heart still racing. Whatever he wanted, whatever game he was playing, she knew one thing for certain: she was caught in his web, and there was no way out.