The doctor appeared within minutes, his presence announced by the soft, rhythmic click of a leather bag against a thigh. There was a practiced efficiency to his movements, the quick, cold press of a stethoscope, the peeling back of an eyelid, the hush of his voice meant to anchor a room.

A series of calm nods felt like a silent language of clinical relief.

"Nothing serious," the doctor said, straightening up and offering a thin, professional smile.

"Classic fatigue. The body has a way of demanding the debt we owe it. She needs rest, Julian. Absolute, uninterrupted rest."

Julian didn’t let go, not entirely. The tension remained coiled in his shoulders, a wariness that refused to abandon its post. But he did exhale. It was a slight, jagged thing, the sound of a man finally allowing himself the luxury of a single breath.

"I told you," he murmured under his breath, brushing his thumb lightly over her hand. "You’ve been pushing too hard." Amara smiled faintly.

Too tired to argue this time. Outside. Raymond had seen everything. The moment the doctor walked in. Something in him shifted. His posture stiffened. His eyes followed every movement with an intensity that didn’t match his position in the company.

Concern. Real concern. Too real. He hesitated outside the office door. Then knocked. "I’m sorry... is this a bad time?" Julian’s gaze snapped up instantly.

Cold. Sharp. Raymond stepped in slowly, adjusting his glasses, his usual composure slipping just enough to reveal something underneath. "I brought the accounts for you to see, and why are you seeing a doctor?" he asked, holding out the folder.

His hands. Slightly tense. Amara looked at him, composed again despite the fatigue.

"Well, as you can see," she said calmly, gesturing lightly to her belly, "I’m heavily pregnant. Doctors are normal at this stage."

A small pause. "You can leave it there. I’ll check it later." Raymond nodded quickly. "Alright, madam." But he didn’t leave. Not yet.

"And about my job..." Julian’s eyes narrowed just slightly. Watching. Measuring. Amara glanced briefly at Julian, then back at Raymond.

"Well," she said, "Janet already told me you’re great." A faint smile. "You’re hired... Raymond, right?"

"Yes," he replied quickly. "Raymond Read."

"Welcome to the team," Amara said. "Janet will take you through everything. Welcome to Ara Clothing." For a moment, Raymond’s face softened. Genuinely.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "I’m... truly happy to be here." But Julian didn’t miss it. That flicker. That emotion didn’t belong to a new employee.

Their eyes met. Julian’s gaze. Cold. Warning. Unspoken but clear. Raymond’s smile faltered for just a fraction of a second. Then. He forced it back. Polite. Neutral. Safe. "Yes, sir," he said lightly, though Julian hadn’t spoken.

And then he turned. Walked out. But not before. Looking back. Once. Twice. Too many times. Inside the office. Silence settled again. Julian didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

But his jaw tightened slightly as his gaze lingered on the closed door. Because now. It wasn’t just a feeling. Something about Raymond Read. Was wrong. And worse. It was personal.

"I don’t like this guy." Julian didn’t even wait for the door to fully close before saying it. Amara exhaled slowly, leaning back into the couch, one hand resting on her belly.

"I feel the same way," she admitted. "There’s something about him... I just can’t place it." Her brows knit slightly. "But we’ll see. I’ll keep an eye on him." Julian didn’t look convinced.

Not even close. "Or," he said calmly, turning to face her fully, "you could go home." A small pause. "Janet can handle things here." Amara immediately made a face. A very deliberate one. Lower lip slightly pushed out. Eyes softer.

"That face is not going to work on me," Julian said flatly. She didn’t say anything. Just... held the look. A second passed. Then another. Julian sighed.

"Anything you say, my love." Victory. Amara smiled, satisfied, shifting slightly on the couch before looking up at him again.

"I’m craving spicy chicken legs." Julian blinked.

"What chicken legs?" he asked slowly. "You mean drumsticks?"

"Nope," she said, shaking her head. "Chicken legs. The tiny part." He stared at her. Confused. Concerned. Trying to picture it.

"...There’s no meat on that," he said carefully. "How do you even—" He stopped. Because she was looking at him. Like this was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That’s what I want," she said simply. Then, with a small shrug..."I mean... the baby, not me, actually." Julian stared at her for a second longer.

Then nodded once. Serious. Resolved. "Yes, my love. I will get you your chicken legs." A pause.

"But first, you need to eat something proper."

"No." Immediate. Firm. Absolutely not negotiable. Julian closed his eyes briefly. Then nodded again. Defeated.

"...I’ll get the chicken legs." He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before heading out. And just like that. He was gone. Inside the office.

Amara settled back, one hand still on her belly, the other reaching for the files Raymond had brought. Trying to focus. Trying to ignore that lingering feeling.

But she wasn’t alone. Across the hallway. Raymond stood just out of sight. Watching. Not openly. Not carelessly. But often. Too often. Every time someone passed. He shifted.

Every time the door moved. His eyes followed. And whenever he had the chance. He glanced toward her office.

Not like an employee checking in. Not like someone curious. Like someone... waiting. Watching. Studying. Something in his expression tightened each time he saw her. Something unspoken. Something buried.

And though Amara couldn’t see him. That feeling she couldn’t explain... Was getting stronger. "What are you looking at?" Janet’s voice cut through the hallway like a clean blade.

Raymond stiffened. Just for a second. Then he turned, adjusting his glasses quickly, composure snapping back into place.

"Nothing," he said lightly. "I just... wanted to see what she thinks of how I cleaned up the accounts." Janet didn’t move. Didn’t blink. She just looked at him. Long enough to make the air uncomfortable.

"You don’t have to worry about that," she said finally, her tone calm but firm in a way that didn’t invite arguments. "If she didn’t like your work, trust me..." A small step closer.

"You wouldn’t be here." Raymond swallowed subtly. Nodded.

"Yes, I understand."

"So just do a good job," Janet continued, folding her arms. "And you won’t have any problems." A pause. Then, more pointed...

"Not with her." Another step. Closer now. "Not with me."

And then. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharpening. "And above all..." A deliberate pause. "Not with Julian." She stretched the name. Not casually. Not accidentally. Her husband. The message landed.

Raymond’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but his expression remained polite. "Yes," he said again. "I hear you." But Janet didn’t miss it.

That flicker. That brief crack in the mask. "Good," she replied. Then turned. Walked away like the conversation was already over. Raymond stayed where he was. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

Still. Quiet. Until she disappeared around the corner. And then. His expression changed. The polite smile dropped. The softness faded.

What replaced it... Was something harder? Something more complicated. His eyes drifted back toward Amara’s office. Not curious. Not harmless. Something else entirely. And whatever it was. It wasn’t going away.

—

An hour later, the office felt too quiet again. Not peaceful. Just... still. Amara shifted in her chair, one hand pressed firmly against her belly as she tried to regulate her breathing.

Slow in. Slow out. Another kick. Stronger this time. Sharp enough to steal the air from her lungs.

She winced slightly, closing her eyes. "Alright, big guy..." she whispered softly, her voice breathless but warm. "Take it easy on mummy, okay?" Another kick.

Then another. Relentless. For a moment. That beautiful feeling of life inside her twisted into something else. Something that made her chest tighten. Is this normal...?

A knock. Then the door opened before she could answer. "I’m sorry...are you okay?" Raymond. He stepped in quickly, his eyes immediately locking onto her. Concern flashed across his face. Too fast. Too intense. "I came to check if you needed something."

Amara straightened slightly, forcing herself to breathe through it. "I’m fine," she said, her voice controlled despite the discomfort. "The accounts look great, Raymond. You can leave."

He didn’t move. "You don’t look okay," he insisted, already stepping closer. "Should I call an ambulance? You should be home resting..."

"I said I’m fine." Her tone sharpened slightly now. Not rude. But clear. Still. He kept coming.

Before she could stop him, he reached her side, gently guiding her down from the high chair toward the sofa. The movement was careful. Practiced. Too natural for someone who had just met her. Amara stiffened.

Her body was reacting before her mind could fully catch up. "I’m fine," she repeated, quieter now....but edged with discomfort. "You can leave."

But Raymond didn’t leave. Instead. Something shifted in him. Like a boundary he shouldn’t cross... And yet did.