My heart skipped a beat as I heard his voice. I lifted my head to gaze into his dark blue eyes, and his eyebrows raised in slight surprise.

I had never seen someone as handsome as Nicholas Shaw.

He wore a more formal suit than usual-shirt, vest, and jacket-each layer adding to his charm. His cufflinks shimmered in the lobby lights as he pressed the elevator button to prevent it from closing. His black suit matched the dark blue tie, perfectly complementing his eye color.

I continued staring as he called me for the second time.

"Oh." I stepped out of the elevator, standing in front of him with a hint of awkwardness. He seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Hey." I forgot my formal demeanor instantly.

"Are you still here?" he asked, corners of his mouth turning downward.

"I already mentioned I have work to finish..." I mumbled, my eyes dropping from his face to the top button of his vest. His perfume, a subtle mix of mint and something expensive, lingered in the air. Not nauseating like Oliver's cologne, but a scent of luxury.

I bit the inside of my cheek before speaking again, "Did you just come from the charity event?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer. He nodded slightly.

Suddenly, I could feel the pulse in my neck quicken, my right hand moving to touch my neck. A specific area felt warmer than usual-where the scar was.

"I have to get something from my office, so I came back. I thought you'd be working from your hotel," he said, glancing at his watch before looking back at me. "I'll escort-"

"Nick."

The pulse in my scarred neck quickened. My eyes reflexively shifted to his brother standing behind him. The resemblance was unmistakable, but this one seemed more laid-back with slightly disheveled hair and a matching eye color. Gregory Shaw.

"Who's she?" he asked, hands in his jeans' pockets, not waiting for an answer as he continued, "Have you got it? I need to leave tomorrow morning."

Wait a minute. Slowly, my brain started working, forcing me to remember where I heard this voice before.

Mr. Shaw took a key from his jacket pocket and tossed it to his brother, who caught it casually.

"Get it yourself, Greg. I'll escort Miss Heather back to her hotel." Mr. Shaw replied. He held onto the key and nodded but his smile widened upon hearing his brother's teasing words.

"Ohhhhh... Miss Heather, huh?" he teased, walking into the elevator. His dark blue eyes shifted from Mr. Shaw to me, this time really looking at me.

We were just three steps apart, and I could see him clearly. Suddenly, his wide smile faded, replaced by a strange expression for a split second. Then the elevator doors closed.

Do I know him? I blinked several times in front of the closed elevator doors. Then I realized, it wasn't just my neck's pulse racing; it was my heart too.

"Eleanor?" Mr. Shaw's voice forced me to redirect my attention to him. He stared into my eyes for a moment before lowering his gaze slightly. I followed his gaze and pulled my hand quickly; I hadn't realized I was gripping his jacket since earlier. "Oh. Sorry, Mr. Shaw-"

"Do you know him?" he asked with an expressionless face.

"What?"

"Do you know Greg?"

I furrowed my brow, trying to remember. "I think I've seen him somewhere." I replied half unsure. "Ah, I need to get back to my hotel-"

"I'll escort you." He said before I could finish my sentence.

"But-"

"It's already 10 PM, Miss Heather. I won't let you go back alone." He interrupted, looking at his Rolex.

"My hotel-"

"I know where your hotel is." His blue eyes looked at me again, challenging me to refuse.

"My hotel is only a five-minute walk, Mr. Shaw." I said, trying to hold back my frustration. Well, actually, I'd rather throw myself at him.

"In that case, we'll walk." He replied, taking a step and turning back when I didn't move from my spot. "Miss Heather?"

Ugh. I walked towards him, and he turned his body slightly. "You're quite persuasive, Mr. Shaw." I muttered with a hint of formality and sarcasm. We walked through the lobby towards the bustling Manhattan streets.

"Used to getting what I want, Miss Heather." He replied in a low voice, making my stomach flutter. I ignored his last words and shifted my gaze to the lanterns being set up in a corner. Oliver mentioned something about a festival in Manhattan.

"Is there an event happening here?" I asked, pointing to the lanterns.

He turned to look at me. "Halloween. Some blocks will be closed for half a day."

"Oh." I nodded slightly while still looking at the lanterns. Some were shaped like pumpkins and bats. I had never seen a festival before, except for school festivals.

"Do you want to see it?"

I shrugged, "I have to go back this weekend." I replied, meeting his gaze. His raised eyebrows indicated surprise.

"Are you sure you only need a week? I can ask Mrs. Lynch to extend your work period."

I slowed down, his attention now fully on me. "You don't like Manhattan?"

"Oh no, Manhattan has the best bagel restaurants. I... just want to go home." I shifted my gaze from his eyes that seemed to penetrate into me. I wasn't surprised if he could make prosecutors in court surrender with just his gaze.

"Do you have someone waiting for you at home?" His tone was slightly strange this time.

I smiled again, "No. No one. I just... feel safer at home." I blurted out without thinking. "I mean... I don't really like being alone in a foreign place." I quickly added.

I didn't want to be alone after that night; his voice haunted every nightmare. I reflexively touched my neck, the place of the scar, with my fingertips. The skin around it felt a bit warmer. Odd, usually, this scar was fine.

"You're not alone, Eleanor." He murmured in a low voice. I just laughed nervously. We walked in silence for the rest of the way to my hotel, not the awkward silence like at lunch earlier, but a comfortable one. When we arrived at the lobby of my hotel, it started raining again. Mr. Shaw escorted me to the hotel lift, and after wishing me goodnight, he walked away.

"Wait-"

He turned back.

"I have some umbrellas in my room." I mumbled awkwardly, "It's still raining outside, and... and you don't have an umbrella. So..." Before I started rambling nonsensically, I shut my mouth.

Mr. Shaw smiled slightly and walked into the lift with me. The scent of his expensive cologne mixed with mint was clearly noticeable from such a close distance. My heart pounded so loudly in my chest that I could hear it in my ears.

Ugh. Ella, what did you just do?

The lift doors opened on the hotel floor, and I walked ahead into the hotel corridor, then stopped in front of my room. I rummaged through my bag for my key and opened my hotel room door. I stood there hesitatingly, wondering if I should invite him in.

"Um, just wait a moment." I muttered, inviting him inside. As soon as we entered, the last ringtone echoed from my hotel phone. A second later, a voicemail played. I let it play while searching for the umbrella I bought yesterday. Mr. Shaw leaned against the wardrobe in my hotel room, hands folded across his chest, observing me.

"... Ella? I've been trying to reach your cellphone all day. Are you working late again? Don't go home alone, okay? I don't want you to be attacked again. Call me as soon as possible. By the way, how was lunch with Mr. I-don't-know-his-name-because-he's-too-handsome? Do you know his name now? Call me-"

I dropped the umbrella I was holding and jumped to grab the hotel phone handle before Lana's sentence ended. I pressed it to my ear.

"Ella?" Lana's voice sounded puzzled from the other end. "Are you there?"

"Yes!" I felt my face reddening; I couldn't look at Mr. Shaw now, so I stood with my back to him. "Yeah, I just got back."

"Are you working late again? I've been trying to reach your new number all day. By the way, Oliver asked for your cellphone number for your manager. Should I give it to him?"

"I haven't charged my cellphone... Oliver? I already gave my number to Mr. Newman. Why does he need it again?" I mumbled, furrowing my brow.

"I don't know... Well, what about your lunch?"

I glanced briefly at Mr. Shaw, "I'll call you later, Lana. Okay?"

"What? I'm dying to know about your savior all day."

"I can't talk right now." I whispered urgently.

"Why-" Lana paused for a moment as if thinking, and two seconds later, she screamed so loud over the phone that I had to close my eyes, "Is he there? Is he in your hotel room?" she asked, half screaming.

"Goodbye, Lana. I'll call you later." I replied without answering her question, then hung up. I took a deep breath and turned back to Mr. Shaw, his expression unchanged since earlier, his blue eyes still watching me. I tried to force a smile, then grabbed the dropped umbrella.

"My friend is a bit... overly dramatic." I raised my hand to point to the phone before dropping it by my side again, "She's a bit... much."

"Thank you for escorting me, Mr. Shaw." I murmured quickly, handing him my umbrella. He nodded slightly, and I escorted him to the front of my hotel room, then he turned suddenly, almost making me collide with him. My heart raced again due to the close proximity; he suddenly bent down until his face was just inches from mine. I could see the dark blue color of his intimidating eyes clearly.

"Tell your friend... The name of the man is Nicholas Shaw." He whispered; his breath, carrying the scent of mint and champagne, brushed against my cheek. I could feel my face redden again. Then he pulled away.

"Goodnight, Miss Heather." He murmured, smiling, and walked away, leaving me standing frozen in front of my hotel room.

The night was filled with the sound of raindrops tapping on the window, and my heart echoed the rhythm of the rain, pounding in my chest.

I hadn't told Lana until the next day. Maybe I'll call her back during lunch break. After all, I'll be back in San Francisco in three days, and Mr. Shaw will forget about me... and I'll forget about him.

A slight pang of regret enveloped my heart. Ugh, Ella, don't be foolish. Perhaps Mr. Shaw has merely been courteous all along, just happened to help me and replace my shoes.

...and invite me to lunch, and escort me home.

I pulled down the corners of my mouth. He's just being polite, right? Besides, he seems to already have a partner. I looked at my reflection in the hotel mirror; today, I wore a blood-red blouse, a gift from Lana, and a black pencil skirt. I rarely wear this blouse. I like its color and silk material, but it's a bit too conspicuous. Perhaps more suitable for a formal dinner than for work.

I straightened my slightly wavy auburn hair. I had planned to dye it a richer brown, but unfortunately, I never got around to it. My amber eyes looked back at me in the mirror, and after taking a deep breath, I left my hotel room.

***

Julio's bagel restaurant was a bit busier in the morning. I ordered a smoked salmon bagel and a cup of tea to take to the office. Julio chatted with me briefly before returning to serve other customers. I'll truly miss Julio and his bagels in San Francisco, I put my bagel into my purse and left the restaurant.

The weather in Manhattan was still slightly overcast with the sun shyly peeking through the clouds. It was almost certain there would be heavy rain again tonight.

I entered the elevator with a few other employees, but this time, I didn't stop on the 15th floor. I had something to return to Mr. Shaw. I waited until the elevator door in front of me opened on the top floor, the 19th floor. A small mini-lobby welcomed me as I exited the elevator. I walked towards the secretary's desk, a black-haired woman with a pixie cut smiled at me.

"Can I help you?" She glanced at my employee badge briefly.

"Hi! Has Mr. Shaw arrived?"

"Mr. Nicholas or-"

"Mr. Nicholas Shaw." I cut in with a smile.

"Did you have an appointment?"

"Not yet. I just want to leave something for Mr. Shaw." I replied, stirring my bag before taking out an envelope containing a check. "Please, deliver this from Eleanor Heather." I added, placing the envelope on the receptionist's desk. "Thank you."

She nodded, then her eyes shifted behind me, before I could turn around a deep voice grumbled from behind.

"Eleanor Heather." The voice repeated my name. The fine hairs on the back of my neck tingled at the sound.

I turned around, facing Gregory Shaw standing a few steps behind me. He looked different from last night; this time, he wore a black suit that matched his neatly combed hair.

His blue eyes gazed slowly from bottom to top, making me uncomfortable. He pulled up one corner of his mouth, forming a smile. "Looking for Nick?" His voice sounded slightly cold.

I smiled awkwardly at him, then nodded slightly.

"He's in court this morning. But... you can deliver your message to me, Miss Heather. I'll meet him afterward." He said without diverting his gaze from me at all. He didn't have the intimidating aura of Nicholas Shaw, but there was something in his eyes that made me feel uneasy.

"Oh, there's no need. I just wanted to leave-"

"I can take care of it later... Besides, Nick won't be at the office today." He cut me off before I could refuse. Then, he walked towards the reception desk and took the envelope I had just placed. "Just this?"

I nodded again.

He smiled again, "I'll make sure Nick gets it."

"Thank you, Mr. Shaw." I replied with a forced smile, then walked back to the elevator. I could feel his gaze on my back as I walked. He continued staring at me expressionlessly even after I entered the elevator. I sighed after the elevator doors closed, and my hand touched the base of my neck, unintentionally feeling the throbbing of my bruise since earlier.

***

My eyes were still fixed on the same financial file for an hour now. Mrs. Lynch didn't check on me at all today; she just asked me to send her an email. I did as she requested until I found this file.

A significant amount of money was transferred to an account at the Bank Rotterdam, and this wasn't the first time. At least ten transfer reports to various accounts in the Bank Rotterdam, and the amounts were all the same. Something is not right here.

I made a small note for Mrs. Lynch and glanced at my watch; it was 9 p.m.

It seems like I should send the report tomorrow morning because there's no point in sending it tonight; Mrs. Lynch won't read it now.

I leaned back in my chair, furrowing my brows. What made me feel strange was how a company this big hadn't noticed the leakage? Or maybe there was another reason? But why would Shaw & Partner transfer its funds to Thompson & Thompson and several accounts in Rotterdam with the same amount repeatedly? Does Mr. Shaw know about it?

I pictured Nicholas Shaw standing in the middle of the courtroom, with his cold face and intimidating gaze. Perhaps he's handling billion-dollar cases or significant embezzlements. As far as I know, the Shaw brothers handle more cases like that, not criminal cases like murder or something. They only deal with big and crucial cases, leaving the rest to their subordinates.

I wondered how much a lawyer of his caliber gets paid for each case...

"Eleanor."

I jumped slightly in my chair upon hearing that voice. My head turned towards the open door of my small office. Nicholas Shaw was standing there, leaning one shoulder against the door frame. His blue eyes, though slightly tired, still managed to be intimidating as he stared at me. He wore a light blue shirt with rolled-up sleeves and dark blue formal pants, no tie. The top two buttons of his shirt were open. His dark brown hair, usually neatly combed, was now slightly disheveled, tempting my hands to mess it up more.

He didn't smile at me. And he looked very, very, very handsome.

"Hi..." I mumbled after staring at him for a full minute. How does he do it? How does he always show up when I'm thinking about him?

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Suddenly, he pulled both corners of his mouth down.

Huh?

"I won't accept your money, Eleanor."

Oh. The check.

He came all the way here just to say that? "Well then, I can't accept those shoes, Mr. Shaw."

Suddenly, he walked towards my desk. Just two big steps, and he was already in front of me. He placed both hands on my desk in an intimidating position, and I looked up slowly to meet his gaze. There was a hint of anger on his face, and I could swear the blue color of his eyes got darker.

Maybe because of the lighting?

"What if you stop being stubborn and accept the shoes? Then we can go to dinner soon." His voice sounded deeper than usual, and I could hear a bit of anger in it.

I stumbled in my seat. Stubborn? Me? Doesn't he have a mirror at home?

"So, what should I do to replace them?" I asked with a defeated tone. "Mr. Shaw, I can't accept such an expensive item just like that."

The pout on his face slowly faded, he pulled his hands away from my desk and tugged his mouth corners up slightly, forming a small smile. "We can discuss it over dinner, Eleanor."

"I don't remember we had dinner plans." I muttered to myself. I closed my laptop and grabbed my bag. Mr. Shaw just stood in his place, observing me. I stood up and walked past him; his gaze didn't shift away from me at all, making me even more nervous. We walked together towards the elevator.

"Is there something wrong with me?" I asked when entering the lift with him.

He blinked briefly and then looked at me from head to toe. "Yeah, a lot." He muttered, and his gaze returned to my face with his intense stare. Unlike his brother's gaze this morning, his look didn't make me uncomfortable at all. Just nervous.

Very nervous.

"You look very beautiful tonight. That's your first mistake." He whispered with his deep voice. My heart raced when I heard him speak, no man has ever had this effect on me before. Not Oliver, and not anyone before him.

The lift doors opened before I could respond to his compliment. Mr. Shaw allowed me to exit first, then he followed. We walked out of the Shaw & Partner building into the Manhattan night air. His black SUV was parked in front of the building, and Eric got out from the driver's side to help open the door for me.

"Thank you." I said with a smile. Eric nodded politely. He wore a black suit without a tie, the same as when he dropped me off at the hotel a few days ago.

Mr. Shaw got in and sat next to me. From this close, I could smell his masculine cologne and a hint of mint. I tucked a few strands of my hair behind my ear nervously. "Where are we going?" I asked to break the silence.

"Fleur de Lis. Do you like French cuisine?" He turned slightly towards me.

"Yeah." Fleur de Lis? Sounds like an expensive restaurant. "So... what case are you handling? Is everything going smoothly?"

He smiled slightly, then glanced at his Rolex briefly before looking back at me. "Tax evasion. You won't be interested, Eleanor; my work might sound boring to you."

"Oh, I thought my job was the most boring in the world."

He smiled again, his usually cold and intimidating blue eyes softened a bit when he smiled. "What about you? Have you finished the audit?"

For the first time, we were genuinely chatting. Not just small talk like usual. "80 percent. I think I can finish it tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" The smile faded quickly from his face. "I thought you told me your job would take a week? It's only been four days."

"The requested audit wasn't as extensive as I thought, plus Mrs. Lynch provided all the necessary data, so I didn't have to start from scratch." Our conversation reminded me of the financial data of Bank Rotterdam. Should I ask him? Tomorrow morning, I'll send my report to Mrs. Lynch, and she'll inform her superiors. So, if I tell him now, it won't hurt, right?

I glanced at Mr. Shaw. He was gazing out the window with a furrowed brow. The top two buttons of his shirt were open again. His gaze seemed a bit distant, lost in thought.

"I found a few anomalies in the financial reports a few months ago."

Mr. Shaw turned his attention back to me, running his dark brown hair through his hand, and nodded slightly, urging me to continue.

"There are about ten suspicious outflows, all sent to different accounts in Bank Rotterdam, some to Thompson & Thompson-"

"Thompson & Thompson?" All of Mr. Shaw's attention was focused on me when I mentioned that name. "Are you sure, Eleanor?"

I nodded. "The funds weren't directly sent to Thompson & Thompson, but transferred to a subsidiary company owned by Thompson & Thompson. If all the funds are totaled, it might be around 4 or 5 percent of your company's value, Mr. Shaw."

Four or five percent is a significant amount for a company the size of Shaw & Partner. Perhaps enough to buy a small office building.

I studied his facial expression in the dim light of his SUV; the lines on his forehead deepened. That meant only one thing; he wasn't aware that his company had a leak all this time.

"I can recheck if needed..." I added. If I trace it back from the beginning, the culprit's trail is likely still fresh. He looked at me slowly, the wrinkles on his forehead slightly easing.

"Of course..." He turned a bit towards me, and we locked eyes. His left shoulder leaned against the back of the driver's seat. We were so close that I could see every detail of his face – the firm and slightly arrogant jawline, the lips that now formed a small smile, and his intense gaze.

"I need you, Eleanor. What if I ask your company to extend your contract for two more weeks?"

For a moment, I saw a glimpse of relief on his face, just for a split second, before it turned serious again. Did I misinterpret it?

"Most likely, they will send a team to investigate matters like this, Mr. Shaw. Besides, this isn't my division; I'm just performing an audit."

"No, I don't need a whole team. I just need you." He pulled out his Blackberry from his pants pocket. "I'll ask Mrs. Lynch to take care of your contract. For the reports, I want you to report directly to me or Greg."

Wait a minute.

"Mr. Shaw, investigating embezzlement like this takes more than two weeks if done alone, and I can't stay here longer." Or more accurately, I don't want to.

He pulled both corners of his mouth down. "Can't?"

I nodded slightly.

"Tell me, Miss Heather, what prevents you from staying in Manhattan longer?"

"Um," my brain paused for a moment. Come on, Ella, think! "I just don't like being in a foreign place alone for too long." I chuckled, repeating the same reason I gave him two days ago.

And my reason sounded so lame now. "I mean... I don't know anyone here." I laughed softly to cover my embarrassment. "A few months ago, I was attacked by a man, maybe that makes me a bit traumatized if I'm alone."

"Attacked?" he repeated. A strange expression crossed his face, then his expression turned cold... almost dangerous. I couldn't look away from his face as it changed drastically.

"What did he do to you?"

I hesitated for a moment, weighing whether to tell him the truth. "It might sound a bit strange, but he... he bit me."

His eyes slightly widened. "And you can't remember the assailant?" His voice sounded strange, like someone holding back anger. I stared at him with a bit of confusion.

"Well, no... I don't remember much."

The streetlights occasionally illuminated the inside of the car, giving brighter light. Mr. Shaw closed his eyes for a moment, his forehead wrinkling, and then suddenly he said, "Turn around, Eric. Go home."

Then he opened his eyes, looking back at me. "I hope you don't mind having dinner at my house." His voice had returned to normal. He looked at my hesitation before adding, "I want to discuss your findings further."

I checked my watch briefly; it was 9:20 PM.

Well, I still had an hour to chat with him. Consider it overtime, Ella. Besides, I'll be back to San Francisco the day after tomorrow. And this is just a regular dinner... at his house.

"Okay," I replied.

We fell into silence again for a few moments before he asked again, "About your attacker... Are you sure he bit you?"

I felt my face slightly warming. The police didn't believe it either; no one did except Lana. Even though sometimes I found my story sounding ridiculous, that man really did bite me. I could still see the mark on my neck, though it had faded a bit. His voice always haunted my nightmares, and every time I tried to remember his face, it felt like a thick fog covering my memory.

"I know my story might sound a bit crazy, and no one believes it-"

"I believe you, Eleanor." He cut me off. "It's just that you don't..." Suddenly, he stopped his sentence, gritting his jaw in anger.

"I don't...?" I urged him.

"It's okay." He mumbled. He redirected his attention to the streets outside, and we didn't talk for the rest of the journey.