Kayla’s POV”He’s here,” Clara said, her voice dropping into a tense, nervous hurry.
She grabbed a compact mirror from her drawer, applied lipgloss on her lips, and shoved it back inside.
“Mr. Thorne is in the building. He wasn’t supposed to arrive until noon, but he just cleared the parking garage. Line up near the desk, Kayla. Do not make direct eye contact unless he addresses you first, and for the love of God, don’t fumble your greeting.”
Panic, cold and sharp, flooded my veins.
He’s coming up here?!
My hands began to shake slightly.
I instinctively crossed my arms over my chest, pulling my jacket tighter around myself as if it could somehow shield me from the world.
I took a half step back, trying to position my body slightly behind Clara’s taller frame, hiding in her shadow near the massive marble pillar.
Ding.
A heavy ding echoed through the corridor as the private, gold executive elevator opened.
The quiet on the floor became absolute.
You could have dropped a pin on the floor and heard it land.
Then came the heavy, rhythmically deliberate sound of expensive leather shoes against the marble floor.
Lucien Thorne stepped into the suite.
Seeing his portrait in the lobby was one thing, but seeing him in the flesh was completely overwhelming.
He radiated an oppressive, suffocating power that seemed to seize the oxygen right out of the room.
He wore a charcoal gray suit tailored so perfectly, it looked as if it was molded to his broad shoulders and commanding height.
His dark hair was brushed back cleanly, and his face was set in a severe, unreadable mask of pure sternness.
Beside him walked Marcus, his sharp eyed personal assistant, holding an iPad and quietly reciting schedule updates.
Lucien didn’t even slow his steps, scanning the room with eyes as cold and calculating as steel.
Staff members bowed their heads as he passed, muttering, “Good morning, Mr. Thorne,” in hushed, voices.
He barely acknowledged them, giving only the briefest cut of his chin.
My chest felt painfully tight.
I held my breath, lowering my gaze toward the polished marble floor, staring intently at the tips of my own heels.
Don’t look up.
He doesn’t know you.
He won’t notice you.
“The board packet for the overseas merger is finalized, sir,” Marcus was saying as they neared the main reception desk.
“HR also finalized the onboarding for the new intake of trainee staff this morning.”
Lucien didn’t stop, but as he went to the reception desk, his sharp gaze flicked casually over the standing employees.
And then, his dark eyes landed on me.
I shouldn’t have looked up.
It was a fatal mistake born of pure, uncontrollable anxiety.
The second his shadow fell over my corner of the desk, my eyes involuntarily darted upward to meet his.
Our gaze locked.
It was as if time itself paused.
The air left my lungs completely.
Up close, his eyes were a piercing, intense shade of storm cloud gray, framed by thick dark lashes.
I saw the exact moment recognition didn’t quite trigger, but a deep, dangerous curiosity flickered in his eyes.
He didn’t stop completely, but his steps slowed down significantly.
His dark eyebrows pulled together into a, faint furrow.
His piercing gaze narrowed, sweeping over my face, lingering on my eyes, my pale lips, and the trembling curve of my jaw.
He knows.
He’s going to remember the road.
He’s going to remember me.
A wave of pure terror surrounded through me.
My heart thudded so hard against my ribs I was terrified he could hear it.
Reminding myself of Sarah’s advice, I removed my gaze away from his face, dropping my head instantly and staring back down at the floor.
Lucien remained silent for two agonizing seconds.
I could feel the heavy weight of his attention looking into the side of my face, cold and searching.
“Mr. Thorne?” Marcus paused a step ahead, noticing his boss’s hesitation.
Marcus looked back, his sharp eyes glancing at Lucien, and then following Lucien’s line of sight toward the reception desk.
Lucien blinked slowly, breaking his stare.
The faint frown between his brows remained, but he masked it instantly, his expression smoothing back into a wall of cold expression.
“Nothing,” Lucien’s deep, voice echoed through the quiet hall, sending a violent shiver straight down my spine.
“Ensure the quarterly projections are on my desk in ten minutes.”
”Right away, sir,” Marcus nodded.
Lucien took one last, lingering glance in my direction before turning on his heel and walking through the double doors into his private corner office suite.
The heavy doors clicked shut behind him.
The moment he vanished, the suffocating pressure in the room released, and the office broke out into a collective sigh of relief.
Staff members instantly resumed typing and talking, the tension vanishing as quickly as it had arrived.
Beside me, Clara let out a long breath and leaned against the counter.
“Whew. Survived another morning. He was in a mood today, wasn’t he?”
I couldn’t answer her.
My knees were shaking so violently I had to grip the edge of the marble desk just to keep myself upright.
I took a deep, shaky breath, my trembling hand resting softly over my lower abdomen.
He hadn’t remembered me outright—not yet.
But the look in his eyes had been dangerous.
He was curious.
And a man like Lucien Thorne, with all the power and resources in the world, was terrifying when he was curious.
By the end of my third week at Throne Corporation, I had perfected the art of becoming a ghost.
I learned the precise layout of the floor, which elevators were used least, which stairwells were quietest, and exactly when the executive suite had the lowest foot traffic.
Every time the heavy double doors of Lucien Thorne’s corner office opened, I found a reason to disappear.
I’d hide my head into the filing room, step into the copy center, or suddenly remember an urgent errand three floors down.