Quiet Glances

The certainty in his tone unsettled her. It wasn’t a suggestion. It wasn’t even a promise. It was a declaration, as if he had already claimed the right to protect her.

She shook her head lightly, trying to steady her voice. “We barely know each other, Mr. Valerievich.”

“Arsen,” he corrected softly. “Call me Arsen.”

The intimacy of the request made her chest tighten. She hesitated, then said quietly, “Arsen.”

A flicker of satisfaction crossed his face.

Silence hung between them, thick and unspoken. Hillary tried to look away, but his gaze held her in place. She felt exposed, seen in a way that was almost too much.

Then came a knock on the door. “Mr. Valerievich, your car is ready,” a voice called from outside.

Arsen didn’t move. His eyes were still locked on Hillary’s. For a long moment, it was as if no one else existed.

Finally, he stepped back. His voice was calm, but it carried weight. “I’ll see you again, Hillary.”

Her heart pounded in her chest, but she only gave a small nod.

And then, he was gone.

That night, Hillary lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She tried to tell herself it meant nothing—that he was a CEO, and she was just a worker. But the memory of his voice lingered. I came to see you. I won’t let anyone try.

She turned onto her side, closing her eyes tightly. Yet no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t push him from her thoughts.

Somewhere across the city, Arsen sat in his car, his gaze on the night outside. His empire was vast, his responsibilities endless, but tonight, only one thing occupied his mind.

Hillary Seraphina.

And in his heart, there was no question. She was already his.

The next morning, Hillary moved through the office with her usual calm pace, holding reports in her arms. She greeted coworkers with a polite smile, her presence gentle but firm. Though young, she carried herself with quiet wisdom—never loud, never careless.

Arsen arrived later, his entrance as commanding as ever. Conversations hushed, eyes followed, but he barely acknowledged them. His gaze flicked once toward Hillary, then away, as if she were no different from the others.

But she noticed.

When their eyes met briefly across the room, he gave nothing away—no smile, no word—yet the weight of it pressed against her chest. She quickly lowered her gaze, unsure why her heart beat faster.

During the meeting, his questions were sharp, his tone strict. Hillary sat silently with the staff, observing him. She found herself both admiring his brilliance and wary of it. He was cold, yes, but also disciplined, a man who seemed built for power.

When the meeting ended, Arsen passed by her desk. He didn’t stop, but his voice lowered just enough for her to hear.

“You notice details others miss.”

She looked up, startled. “Excuse me, sir?”

He paused, his expression unreadable. “That’s rare. Don’t lose it.”

Before she could reply, he was gone.

Hillary sat still, her cheeks warm. He was confusing—distant, unreadable, yet every word carried weight. She shook her head, reminding herself not to think too much. She had never dated anyone, never cared for such things. Love was distant, unnecessary.

And yet, she couldn’t deny the strange pull his presence left behind.

Unseen, Arsen allowed himself a faint smile as he entered his car. He wouldn’t rush. Hillary Seraphina was not easy to get—and that made her all the more impossible to ignore.

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