The new cleaner

Ava Bennett moved calmly through the office halls, cleaning as she always did; unseen, unnoticed. She preferred it that way. Routine was her comfort, and invisibility was her shield.

She hummed softly as she worked, her voice filling the quiet office. The melody, a half-remembered tune from her childhood, floated in the air as she dusted the bookshelves in the corner of the executive floor. Music was her refuge, the one place where she felt truly alive, beyond the invisible routine of her daily work.

Her uniform, a simple navy-blue dress with sensible black shoes, blended seamlessly with her surroundings. Ava moved with practiced efficiency, her hands deftly wiping surfaces and rearranging scattered items. Her rhythm was soothing, almost meditative, until she felt the weight of someone watching her.

His presence was so intense, it seemed to pull the air from the room. Her world shifted.

Don't look, her instincts warned, but the pull was magnetic, impossible to resist. She glanced up, and her eyes met his.

Time stilled.

She immediately turned away, facing her work.

The man in the doorway didn't belong in her quiet, hidden world. He was striking, commanding, his black suit sharp and immaculate, his gaze piercing through the distance between them. His name echoed faintly in her mind-Stallion Marc, the infamous CEO. But none of the whispered rumors had prepared her for the force of his presence.

In that moment, the noise of the world faded. There was no construction hum, no clatter of her tools; only the way his eyes seemed to hold hers captive, as though searching for something he hadn't realized he was missing.

She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

He stepped forward, the air around him charged with purpose. "Who is she?" His voice was deep, rich, directed at someone behind him but meant for her.

The assistant stammered, "Just the cleaner, sir-"

"Her name," Stallion interrupted sharply, his gaze never leaving hers. "I want her name."

He didn't let his assistant answer before he continud. "The cleaner," Stallion emphasized, his tone flat but loaded with meaning. "And yet, she hums like a siren calling sailors to their doom."

Ava's cheeks flushed, the warmth spreading up to her ears. She had thought she was alone, that no one would hear her. Embarrassment warred with indignation, but she kept her head down, gripping the cloth tightly as if it were a lifeline.

Her heart pounded so loudly it drowned out her thoughts. She gripped the broom tighter, desperate to ground herself as his attention pinned her in place. This couldn't be happening.