Fred Nork was not a man easily shaken. A young billionaire, a man that is known to be usually cold and calculated, he was used to women throwing themselves at him, always. Women who are drawn in by his wealth, power, and infamous reputation. But Ana... Ana was something else entirely. She had attracted the magnet himself.
She was quiet but not weak. Beautiful but not flirtatious. She walked through the halls of Majesties with her head low, as if afraid the walls might recognize her.
Fred noticed her. Far more than he should have.
He found himself wondering about her during board meetings, distracted by the memory of her voice even while discussing million-dollar contracts.
He wasn't proud of it.
He had gone through the list of interns personally. She had been hired through his HR department for a cleaning job, why then couldn't he stop thinking about her?
If there was one thing Ana swore, it was to avoid everything that was related to Fred. But she could feel the heat of his stare even when he wasn't in the room.
Fred Nork, the man who could unravel everything with just one look.
He had been watching her again, today. Standing silently by the glass door, his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on her like she was an equation he couldn't solve.
Ana tried not to shake under his gaze. She moved quickly, finishing her duties before anyone else. She avoided eye contact. She hid in shadows when she needed to.
The back exit was quiet, the hallway lit by a single flickering bulb. "Come on" Ana said, dragging out a large trash bag, it was heavier than usual, filled with discarded paperwork and soaked supplies. Her arms ached from the weight. She adjusted her grip, gritting her teeth.
Her foot caught on the uneven concrete.
The bag jerked forward.
She stumbled, about to fall and that was when strong arms caught her.
"Ana."
The voice was unmistakable. It was deep and sharp. A voice that was bold and laced with demand.
Her breath caught.
She didn't look up. Didn't need to. She could feel the tension in his muscles, she recognised the voice well enough, the steady pressure of his grip. His touch was firm and familiar, it was terrifying.
"I…. I'm fine," she whispered, trying to step back. "Let go."
But he didn't.
His fingers lingered at her waist, his eyes scanning her face closely.
His tone dropped low. "You smell like something I remember."
Ana froze.
His words weren't flirtatious. They weren't casual. They were suspicious and deliberate.
Fred tilted his head, brows drawn. "That scent. I've smelled it before… not here."
She looked down, her heart pounding so loud she swore he could hear it.
He took a slow step closer. "Who are you?"
"I told you. I'm just a cleaner," she replied quickly.
"No," he said softly, almost like he was thinking out loud. "You're not just anything. You… you feel too familiar."
Ana tried to shift away. "I need to finish up sir, please."
But Fred suddenly stepped around her, blocking her exit. His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. "Do you habe any reason to avoiding me."
"Why would I…?"
"Don't lie."
"I'm not," she said, voice shaking slightly.
"You don't flinch like someone who doesn't know me," he said carefully. "You don't look me in the eye, but you still walk like you expect me to follow. Like you know I already do."
She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came.
Fred leaned in. His hand rested against the wall beside her head, just close enough to make her pulse race. His face was inches from hers.
"Where did we meet?" he whispered. "Was it that night?"
Ana stared at his chest, refusing to meet his gaze.
"Answer me."
Her voice came out barely audible. "You're mistaken."
"I'm not." His eyes darkened. "You were there. That night. At the hotel."
Her body tensed. She cursed herself silently. He remembered.
"I didn't see your face," Fred continued, his voice low, almost disbelieving. "But now… your voice, this scent, it's the same."
He paused, studying her like a puzzle he was only just beginning to piece together.
"I thought I dreamed you," he whispered, almost to himself. "But you're real."
Ana's heart pounded so loud it rang in her ears. Every instinct screamed at her to get away. She shifted her weight, tried to step around him quickly, but his hand shot out, grabbing her arm. It wasn't harsh, but it was enough to stop her. Enough to send a jolt of fear running down her spine.
"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked, his tone was unreadable, somewhere between accusation and desperation.
Ana froze, then, very carefully, she raised her eyes to meet his. "Sir… I think you should get a hold of yourself," she said firmly, her voice trembling at the edges. "It seems like you're about to hurt me or something."
Her words hung in the air.
Fred blinked, his grip loosening slightly as reality seemed to hit him.
Ana's eyes moved to the exit again. It felt impossibly far away. The walls seemed to press in, and everywhere suddenly felt suffocating.
Fred took a slow step back, as if forcing himself to create distance. His expression shifted, from sharp suspicion to something more conflicted. His lips parted slightly, but he didn't speak right away.
"I'm so… I'm sorry," he finally said, voice hoarse. He rubbed a hand down his face, then dragged his fingers through his dark hair, clearly unsettled. "That's not what I meant to do."
Ana didn't reply. She didn't move either. She watched him, carefully, unsure of what he would do next.
Fred turned away for a second, like he couldn't even look at her. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.
He spoke again, this time softer, like he was speaking to himself as much as to her.
"I don't do this. I don't grab people. I don't corner women in hallways like some madman," he said bitterly, shaking his head. "What the hell am I doing?"
He looked down at his hands like he didn't recognize them anymore. Then his gaze lifted back to her, searching, he was pained.
"Is this really me now?" he whispered. "Since when did I become this person?"
Ana's guard softened just a fraction, but she said nothing. She couldn't afford to.
Fred looked at her again with confusion plain on his face.