THE BEAUTIFUL CLEANER'S TALE

n had looked at her, the warmth of his hand on hers, and the quiet intensity in his eyes. She had tried to brush it off, to tell herself it was

meetings, but the thought of Stallion lingered in the back of her mind like a shadow she couldn't shake. Even

p breath and headed to his office. The door was slightly ajar, and she paused, wondering if she should turn

as barely audible, but it carried a weight that

replied. "But... are you s

uickening. She leaned closer, her mind racing with questions.

," Stallion replied, his ton

to come out. She darted around the corner, pressing herself against the wall as she watched the man exit, a grim e

was sitting at his desk, his face a mask of calm, but she couldn't shake the feel

e playing on his lips.

k him directly what he had been discussing, but she knew better. Wh

ything else you needed for the meeting tom

. "Always so diligent

ation that felt almost dangerous. She tried to keep her composure, but hi

or now," he said, his voice softe

of relief and disappointment. "Al

d to leave, his

va

ing back at him,

ntinued, his eyes fixed on hers. "This

stop, to keep things strictly professional, but another part of her-the part she tried to ignore-wanted to k

murmured, her voi

his eyes that hinted at something deeper, something darker. She felt a shiver run do

ion she'd overheard, about the way Stallion had looked at her. She told herself it w

new she was probably overthinking it, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Stallion than he let on. He was charmi

Who was that man? And why did Stallion need something handled "quietly"? She tried to push th

ad and focus on work. But as soon as she entered the building, she felt a

self. But then she noticed something odd-a message with no subject line, from an unkn

few lines, but it was enough

im. He's not who

ing. Who had sent this? And what did it mean? She looked arou

f. She wanted to delete it, to pretend she hadn't seen it, but something stopp

he tried to keep her distance from Stallion, to avoid his gaze, but s

rom the message. As she walked home, her mind was a whirlwind of fear and doubt. She wanted to believe that Stall

hidden beneath his charm and kindness. And now, as she walked through the darkened streets, she

. She tried to shake off the feeling, to tell herself she was just being paranoid,

way fr

make: she could ignore the warning, continue on as if nothing had happened, or she co

down her spine, a sense that she was standing on the edge of so

at whatever decision she made,