Abby was officially under constant surveillance. The new reporting mandate meant she was essentially tethered to Liam's office for the next seventy-two hours. He wasn't watching her work; he was watching her.
She spent her morning meticulously preparing for the next reporting meeting, dressing in the loosest, most concealing clothes she owned. She couldn't risk him seeing any hint of her growing midsection, now starting to show the slightest, most subtle curve.
The pregnancy was making her emotional. The rush of relief from surviving the lie had been replaced by a deep-seated anxiety and a strange, confusing pull toward the man who now commanded every hour of her workday.
When she walked into his office for the 10:00 AM meeting, Liam was reviewing the Han merger closing documents. He looked marginally better after a shower, but the lingering exhaustion from his trip was still visible in the lines around his eyes.
"Report," he commanded, not looking up.
Abby reviewed the team's progress, focusing on key metrics and upcoming deadlines. She spoke in her usual measured, logical tone.
When she finished, Liam finally lifted his gaze. "Good. Now, the rest. What did you eat for breakfast?"
The question caught her completely off guard. "I'm sorry, sir?"
"Transparency, Abby. You said you'd be constantly transparent. What did you eat? I'm ensuring my key assets are fueled correctly after a crisis."
Abby forced a smile. "A bagel with cream cheese, sir. And a cup of ginger tea."
Liam made a note on a small pad. "Carbohydrates. Good. I want to see you eat your lunch today. You will come to the executive dining room at 1 PM."
"I usually eat at my desk, Mr. Sterling. It's more efficient."
"Not for the next seventy-two hours, it's not. My grandmother's crisis reminded me that efficiency means little if the structure fails. You're part of my structure now. I need to be certain you are maintaining your health." His focus was completely utilitarian, yet the thought of sharing a meal with him felt intensely personal, almost like a date.
Abby swallowed. "Understood, sir. 1 PM."
The constant proximity was a cruel and effective torture. Every interaction was a tightrope walk professional on the surface, but with a horrifyingly personal subtext that only she knew. She felt his physical presence: the way he smelled, the way he moved, the warmth he radiated when he walked past her to the window. These were the intimate details of the anonymous donor she had purchased, now delivered in the form of her dangerously observant boss.
She left his office, her hands clammy. She knew the lie had bought her time, but the cost was a physical and emotional intimacy that was accelerating their personal connection against her will. She had to find a way to make this surveillance period end quickly before her body betrayed her and his proximity broke her careful control.