Nina adjusted the strap of her purse, steadying herself before stepping into the sleek Michaelson Enterprises office. She had prepared for this meeting with Victoria all week, but nothing could have prepared her for what happened next.
Victoria was seated at the large conference table, flipping through design concepts. "Ah, Elena! Perfect timing. Come, sit."
Nina forced a smile and walked in, keeping her posture poised and confident. She could do this. She had to do this.
She set her portfolio on the table and was about to speak when the door swung open.
A familiar, commanding voice filled the room.
"Victoria, I need—"
Her stomach plummeted.
Jeffrey.
He stopped mid-step, his gaze flickering to her. A simple glance, but it was enough to send a rush of panic through her. He looked the same,no, even more striking than she remembered. The tailored suit, the sharp, assessing eyes, the quiet authority he carried without effort.
And for the briefest second, his eyes narrowed.
Nina's breath hitched.
Does he recognize me?
Shock & Panic
"Jeffrey," Victoria said, unfazed. "This is Elena Carter, the interior designer I was telling you about."
Nina swallowed hard as he extended a hand. She hesitated for a split second before taking it. His grip was firm, warm, familiar. But there was no flicker of recognition on his face.
A breath of relief slipped through her. He didn't know.
Yet.
"Pleasure to meet you," she said, forcing an even tone.
Jeffrey didn't speak right away. His eyes lingered on her, sharp and searching. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he nodded.
"Likewise."
Nina withdrew her hand quickly, hoping he wouldn't notice how clammy her palms had become.
Victoria carried on with the discussion, oblivious to the silent storm raging in Nina's head. She focused on nodding at the right moments, presenting her ideas—but all the while, she felt the weight of Jeffrey's gaze on her.
Watching. Assessing.
By the time the meeting ended, her heart was pounding.
She had to get out of here.
---
Jeffrey sat at his desk later that afternoon, drumming his fingers against the polished wood.
Elena Carter.
There was something about her.
He didn't believe in coincidences, and this felt like one. The curve of her lips, the way she carried herself,it all nudged at something buried in his memory.
But that woman had vanished without a trace. No name. No past. No digital footprint.
Still, his gut told him something was off.
He picked up his phone.
"Dig into Elena Carter. I want everything,background, history, past employment."
An hour later, his assistant called back.
"Sir, there's nothing unusual. Elena Carter is an interior designer, lived overseas for a while before settling back here. A few records of travel, nothing out of the ordinary."
Nothing.
Jeffrey leaned back in his chair, gripping his pen.
Then why did he feel like she was lying?
___
Nina pressed her forehead against the cool glass of her apartment window that night, watching the city lights blur in the distance.
She had to leave.
No.
She clenched her fists.
She couldn't do that to Liam. He had friends here. A school he loved. Stability.
Running would only make her look guilty.
She would stay. Lay low.
Jeffrey Michaelson wouldn't find out about Liam.
He couldn't.
A soft knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts.
"Mommy?"
She turned to find Liam rubbing his eyes sleepily.
"Hey, sweetheart." She crouched and pulled him into a hug.
"Why are you awake?"
"You were talking to yourself again," he mumbled against her shoulder.
Nina smiled faintly, stroking his hair. "Go back to bed, love. Mommy's fine."
As she tucked him in, pressing a kiss to his forehead, she made herself a silent promise.
She would do whatever it took to protect her son.
Even if it meant lying to Jeffrey Michaelson's face.
The next morning, as Nina stepped out of the elevator at Michaelson Enterprises, she heard footsteps behind her.
"Elena."
The deep, commanding voice sent a chill down her spine.
She turned slowly.
Jeffrey stood there, his sharp gaze locked onto hers.
"I think we need to talk."
Nina swallowed hard, willing her face to remain impassive. She had prepared for this moment in her head, but nothing could truly prepare her for the intensity of Jeffrey Michaelson's gaze up close.
"I don't think we do," she said, keeping her voice light, controlled.
Jeffrey took a step closer. "I disagree."
She squared her shoulders, masking her nerves with an air of nonchalance. "Mr. Michaelson, if this is about the project, I assure you—"
"This isn't about the project."
Her pulse skittered.
Jeffrey studied her, his expression unreadable. "Do we know each other?"
Nina arched a brow, forcing herself to meet his gaze without flinching. "I don't believe so."
He didn't look convinced. "Are you sure about that?"
She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "I think I'd remember meeting someone like you."
The corner of his lips lifted slightly, but his eyes remained calculating. "I have a good memory. And something about you feels… familiar."
She stiffened.
She needed to end this conversation. Now.
"Maybe I just have one of those faces," she said coolly, stepping around him.
But Jeffrey shifted, blocking her path just enough to make her pause. Not aggressive, just deliberate.
"You were nervous back there," he noted, tilting his head slightly. "The moment I walked in, you froze. Why?"
Nina forced a light chuckle. "I wasn't expecting the CEO to walk in during my first big meeting. It's called being professional."
Jeffrey studied her for a beat longer, then let out a quiet hum. "Maybe."
She didn't dare move.
He crossed his arms, gaze still locked onto her. "Where are you from?"
"Why does that matter?" she countered, hoping to turn the conversation around.
"Because I can't shake the feeling that we've met before."
Her stomach clenched, but she plastered on an amused smile. "Do you interrogate all of Victoria's hires like this?"
He smirked slightly. "Only the ones who seem to be hiding something."
She bristled but kept her expression even. "I'm not hiding anything."
"Then why do you look like you're dying to escape this conversation?"
Damn him.
She exhaled, schooling her features into one of polite annoyance. "Mr. Michaelson, I don't know what you're implying, but I can assure you we've never met. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
This time, when she stepped around him, he didn't stop her.
But she could feel his eyes on her as she walked away.
She forced herself to keep her strides measured, her back straight, her breathing even.
She could not,would not,let him get under her skin.
And she certainly wouldn't let him uncover the truth.
She had disappeared once.
She could do it again.
If it came to that.