Chapter 2 Level Three Access

I stared at the text message until the screen dimmed in my hand.

You looked beautiful in blue today.

A cold breeze brushed against my skin, but it wasn’t what made me shiver.

Slowly, I lifted my eyes back toward the building.

The top floor was impossible to see clearly from the parking lot at night. The dark glass reflected city lights and moving traffic below.

But there was definitely someone standing there watching.

My chest tightened.

Don’t be dramatic, Blair. It could literally be anybody.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling crawling beneath my skin.

My phone buzzed again.

Another message.

Get home safe.

I nearly dropped the phone.

Okay, nope, absolutely not.

I quickly blocked the number and shoved my phone back into my bag before hurrying toward the bus stop.

The entire ride home, my mind replayed the events of the day.

Alex Laurent the locked folder, Vanessa’s strange reaction, Level-three access, and those messages.

By the time I reached my apartment, my nerves were completely fried.

I unlocked the door quickly and stepped inside my tiny one-room apartment, immediately locking it again behind me.

Safe. At least, safer than that building.

“God,” I muttered, tossing my bag onto the couch.

The apartment was small and slightly humid from the broken kitchen window, which I still couldn’t afford to repair.

But it was mine.

Well…

Technically the landlord’s. For now.

I changed into oversized shorts and a shirt before collapsing onto the bed with a groan.

My phone rang almost instantly.

Naomi.

I answered immediately.

“Please tell me your rich-people office didn’t kill you on your first day.”

Despite everything, I laughed softly.

“Barely survived.”

“That bad?”

“You have no idea.”

Naomi gasped dramatically. “Wait. Was the CEO hot?”

I rolled my eyes. “Naomi.”

“That means yes.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Oh my God, he’s hot and evil, isn’t he?”

I sat up slowly.

“How did you know the evil part?”

“Men in expensive suits are always emotionally damaged.”

A snort escaped me before I could stop it. Then my smile faded.

“He knew things about me.”

Silence filled the line briefly.

“What kind of things?”

“Where I live. My habits. Personal stuff.”

Naomi paused.

“…That’s creepy.”

“Exactly.”

“And you’re sure HR didn’t just tell him?”

I thought about it.

Maybe.

But the way he looked at me…

No.

That didn’t feel normal.

Before I could answer, another notification appeared on my screen.

Unknown Number.

Even though I’d blocked the first one.

My stomach dropped.

Slowly, I opened the message.

Blocking me was rude.

Fear slid down my spine instantly.

“Blair?” Naomi’s voice sharpened. “What happened?”

I stood from the bed, suddenly unable to breathe properly.

“He texted again.”

“WHO?”

“I don’t know!”

“What did the message say?”

I swallowed hard.

“He said blocking him was rude.”

Naomi went quiet for two full seconds.

Then—

“Okayyyy, no. We’re entering serial killer territory now.”

I walked toward my window nervously and pulled the curtains apart slightly.

Darkness outside, parking lot, streetlights. Nothing unusual.

Still… 

I locked the window too.

“Maybe it’s someone from work playing a prank,” Naomi said carefully.

“Maybe.”

But deep down, I didn’t believe that. And that terrified me most.

—

The next morning, I arrived at Laurent Holdings twenty minutes early.

No way was I giving Alex Laurent another reason to stare into my soul.

The lobby buzzed with quiet conversations and clicking heels as employees hurried around carrying coffee and documents.

Everything looked normal.

I approached the front desk nervously.

The receptionist smiled politely. “Name?”

“Blair Thompson.”

Her expression changed immediately. Not fear exactly, like recognition.

“Oh. Right.” She grabbed a card from beneath the desk quickly. “Your access card was already prepared.”

I frowned slightly.

Already?

I accepted the card slowly.

LEVEL 3 ACCESS.

“What exactly is level three?” I asked carefully.

The receptionist looked confused.

“You don’t know?”

Before she could answer, a voice behind me interrupted.

“Miss Thompson.”

I turned instantly.

Vanessa Hale stood there in another perfectly fitted black outfit, tablet in hand.

Elegant as always.

Intimidating as always.

“Mr. Laurent is waiting for you.”

Of course he was.

The receptionist suddenly became very interested in her computer screen.

Interesting.

I followed Vanessa toward the elevators quietly.

“You seem nervous,” she said casually.

“I feel like everyone here knows something I don’t.”

Vanessa’s lips curved slightly.

“That feeling usually means you’re paying attention.”

That was not comforting.

The elevator doors opened onto the executive floor.

Unlike the lower floors, this level was almost silent. Soft lighting. Dark walls. Minimal movement.

It felt less like an office and more like a place people disappeared into.

Vanessa stopped outside Alex’s office.

Before leaving, she looked at me carefully.

Then she said quietly:

“Whatever you do… don’t go into the restricted rooms.”

My heartbeat slowed.

“Restricted rooms?”

But she was already walking away.

Totally normal workplace.

I pushed open Alex’s office door carefully.

He was standing near the window this time, sleeves rolled up again, speaking on the phone.

His voice was low and calm.

The moment he noticed me, he ended the call immediately.

“You’re early today.”

“I wanted to make a good impression.”

“You’re learning.”

Something about that sounded almost approving. I hated that tiny part of me liked it.

Alex walked toward his desk slowly.

“Sit.”

I obeyed before my brain could argue.

He handed me a thin stack of files.

“These are today’s reports. Organize them by department.”

I blinked.

“That’s it?”

“For now.”

Honestly?

I expected worse.

The morning passed surprisingly quietly.

Now and then, I caught Alex watching me while pretending to work.

Not normal looking, studying, and analyzing.

Like he was trying to solve something.

Around noon, he finally left for a meeting.

The second the office door closed behind him, I exhaled deeply.

God.

That man’s presence was exhausting.

I stood to stretch my legs before noticing something strange.

One of the shelves near the wall wasn’t fully closed.

A hidden door curiosity immediately sparked inside me. This was a bad idea. 

But Vanessa’s warning echoed in my mind.

Don’t go into the restricted rooms.

Which obviously made me want to know what was inside.

Slowly, I stepped closer.

The hidden door was slightly open just enough for darkness to peek through. My heart pounded harder as I pushed it gently, the room beyond was dimly lit cold, and silent. 

Then I saw them.

Photographs.

Dozens of them.

Pinned across an entire wall.

My blood froze.

They were pictures of me leaving my apartment, walking the streets, and even yesterday outside the company building.

My breathing stopped completely.

“What the hell…”

My eyes darted across the room in horror they were files, notes, dates, observations. All about me.

Then I noticed the largest photograph on the center wall.

It was taken from behind me.

And written beneath it in neat black ink were the words:

She finally came back.

A floorboard creaked behind me. I spun around instantly Alex Laurent stood in the doorway watching me.

No emotion on his face.

Just silence.

Then he spoke softly.

“You weren’t supposed to see that yet.”