Rivals of the heart

5.In the Shadows of Desire: The Unspoken Conflict

Bella's POV:

I have never understood him.

William Davesworth. The name alone makes my blood boil. He's been a thorn in my side since the day he stepped into our company, acting as if he owned it—which he technically does now. Every meeting, every project, it's as if he's out to prove something, to undermine me at every opportunity.

I tell myself I don't care; he's just another arrogant billionaire who believes he can throw his weight around. But it affects me deeply. He looks at me as if I'm a task that he must overcome, as if I'm inferior to him. It is irritating.

And then there are times like tonight when I just don't understand him at all.

I was halfway through my performance, immersed in the groove, when I spotted him. In the theater's darkness, his eyes fixed on me with such intensity that I felt a chill down my spine. I tried to ignore it and focus on the music, but it was impossible.

Why was he here? And, more importantly, why was he staring at me like that?

My motions slowed for a brief moment . My heart raced as I continued to dance, my thoughts racing with questions.

The song ended, and I took my final bow, the applause enveloping me like white noise. Even in the dark, I could feel his gaze searing into me, causing my skin to crawl. I knew he despised me. So, why does he keep showing up like this? Why was he trying to come closer?

It did not make sense.

I ran off stage as I made my way to the dressing room. When I was alone, I took a trembling breath and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My face flushed, my heart beating from the performance—and the prospect of his watching me.

I despised this feeling, this perplexity. I despised him for making me feel this way. He was always chilly and dismissive in the office, as if I were just another impediment on his path. But there were times, like tonight, when he didn't appear to detest me at all.

He appeared interested. But that couldn't be correct. Could it?

I shook my head, attempting to clear my thoughts. No. I was reading too much into it. William was a manipulator, plain and simple. He lived on control and keeping people off balance. This was just another one of his mental games, another attempt to assert his dominance over me.

Despite that... I couldn't get over the way he stared at me, as if he saw something he wanted but couldn't have. It didn't match the man I thought I knew, the man I'd told myself I despised.

Why is he doing this? Why is he trying to get closer when all he does is push me away?

The questions spun in my thoughts, with no answers in sight. And that was the worst part: not knowing, uncertainty. I could tolerate his attitude and contempt, but this? This weird, almost desperate want to comprehend him, to figure out why he kept crossing lines he'd made for himself?

It scared me.

I shoved the ideas aside, resolved to concentrate on what I could control—my work, my objectives, and my life. Whatever his intentions, I couldn't allow William Davesworth to get to me. He was simply a man, and men like him are dangerous. They got inside your head, made you doubt yourself, and made you feel emotions you didn't want to feel.

I would not let that happen. Not again.

But even as I told myself that, I couldn't help but question whether I was imagining it. Or was there anything more beneath the surface that neither of us wanted to admit?

I shook my head, pushing the thoughts away as I changed from my costume to my street clothes. I had to keep my distance and stay focused. But, regardless of how hard I tried, I knew one thing for sure: