Chapter 3 UNSPOKEN WORDS.

The luxury car door clicked shut beside her, quiet as a whisper.

Sasha sat stiffly in the passenger seat, her hands folded on her lap, trying not to look back at the hotel entrance. She could still feel Xavier's stare between her shoulder blades.

But she'd made her choice.

And now she was riding home with a stranger.

The man behind the wheel adjusted his cufflinks before starting the engine. "You look tense," he said smoothly.

She gave a small, polite laugh. "Just tired."

"I'm not surprised. Xavier can drain the life out of a room."

She blinked, caught off guard.

He smiled. "Name's Martin Lark. Senior board member. I usually stay away from those meetings unless there's something interesting." His eyes flicked to her, pointed. "Like tonight."

Sasha looked away quickly. "I'm just his secretary."

"Are you?" he said, turning the car onto the main road. "That's not what it looked like in there."

She didn't answer.

"I mean, I've seen him with assistants, but you..." His voice dropped, playful. "You flinched when he looked at you. That's not fear. That's something else."

"It's fear," she whispered.

He laughed. "Honest. I like that."

They drove a while in silence.

The city lights bled past the windows, gold and cold.

Then he spoke again, softer this time.

"You're not like the others."

Sasha stayed quiet.

Martin glanced at her, slowing the car near her building. "He sees you, you know. Even if he pretends not to. And I don't think he likes sharing."

She turned sharply. "Excuse me?"

He gave her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You'll find out. Men like him never say it. But they hate it when someone else gets there first."

Her heart kicked hard in her chest.

He parked in front of her apartment gate.

Sasha reached for the door handle, but he touched her wrist-light, casual.

"Don't be nervous. I'm harmless."

She gave a tight smile. "Thanks for the ride."

"I'd like to see you again," he said.

She hesitated.

He pulled a phone from his coat and handed it to her. "Just your number. For business."

She typed it in slowly.

Martin smiled. "Good girl."

Sasha stepped out without another word.

As the car drove away, her phone buzzed once.

Unknown Number: It was a pleasure meeting you, Sasha.

She deleted the message without replying.

---

The apartment was dimly lit, smelling faintly of lavender oil and old books. Her mother was curled up on the couch under a blanket, soft jazz humming from the corner radio.

"You're back late," she said, looking up with tired eyes.

Sasha leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Work."

Her mother smiled. "You look exhausted."

"I am."

Sasha slipped out of her shoes and sat beside her.

"I thought you'd eat out," her mother said, gesturing to the untouched bowl on the table.

"I wasn't that hungry," Sasha murmured. "Too tense."

There was a pause.

Her mother reached for her hand.

"The hospital called again today. They're waiting on the second half of the payment."

Sasha closed her eyes briefly. "I'll figure something out."

"I hate seeing you push yourself this hard."

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

Sasha smiled faintly. "You're the one in pain, Mom. I'm just tired. That's easier."

Her mother squeezed her fingers gently. "You're doing everything you can. I know that. Just promise me, Sasha... you're not letting anyone treat you badly just because you need the money."

Sasha was quiet for a long moment.

Then she whispered, "Do you ever get the feeling someone's watching you... not because they care, but because they want something they won't admit?"

Her mother blinked. "What do you mean?"

"My boss. Lately... it's strange. The way he looks at me. Like he's angry all the time. Like I've done something wrong just by existing in his space."

"Did he say anything to you?"

"No. Not really. But it's there. I don't know if it's hate or something worse."

Her mother frowned. "Sasha-"

"I'm fine," she lied. "Really."

They sat in silence for a while, the radio soft in the background.

Then her mother stood. "Come. You need to rest."

Sasha followed her to the room, the weight of the day still pressing against her chest.

She crawled under the sheets and turned off the lamp.

The room went dark.

But her thoughts didn't.

She lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling, unable to shake the feel of Xavier's eyes - cold, quiet, and watching.

Even when they weren't.