Beneath the Bully's Gaze

Dressed for the Night

The days at the flower shop had passed in a blur for Mira, with each one melding into the next. She had become adept at maintaining her nonchalance whenever Ethan was around, keeping her distance both physically and emotionally. She didn't want to give him any more of herself than she had already. She would nod politely when he asked questions, answer as neutrally as possible when he gave instructions, and avoid eye contact whenever she could.

But Ethan, as relentless and piercing as ever, wasn't easily ignored. His presence in the flower shop, though more rare than before, always seemed to bring a storm in its wake. Mira could feel his eyes on her as he observed her working with the flowers, his sharp gaze making her skin prickle. There were moments when he tried to talk to her, trying to bridge the silence between them, but she kept her responses short, her tone clipped.

She hadn't forgotten the way he had spoken to her the night of the argument at his mansion. And although she knew she needed to focus on her work and her grandmother's bills, a part of her couldn't help but remember the bitterness of his words. Every time he walked into the room, it was like a storm cloud followed him. Mira was determined not to let it break her, though.

---

The night before the big business party, Ethan made up his mind. He couldn't wait any longer for Mira to approach him. The tension between them had been thick for days, and he needed her at the event tomorrow—his reputation at stake, as always. But he knew exactly how this would go. He could already hear her voice in his head, the words she'd say in her usual detached tone, the refusal she would give him.

The evening was quiet when Ethan finally made his way to Mira's house. It wasn't that late, but the moon hung low, casting a soft light on the streets as he pulled up in his sleek black car. He stood outside for a moment, running his hand through his hair, trying to steady himself. He wasn't sure what to expect when he knocked on her door. But he knew one thing—he couldn't afford to let her slip away from this.

He rang the doorbell, his heart pounding more than it should have. A moment later, Mira opened the door, her face expressionless, eyes wary.

"What do you want, Ethan?" she asked coolly, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned against the doorframe.

"I need you to attend the business party tomorrow night," Ethan said, not wasting any time. He stared her down, his voice leaving no room for argument. "It's part of the job, Mira."

Mira's gaze hardened. "You can't be serious."

"I am," Ethan replied firmly. "I need you there."

She sighed, clearly frustrated. "I'm not going to go just because you say so."

"Well, you're my PA," Ethan said, his eyes narrowing, voice steady.

Mira hesitated, her eyes shifting toward the floor, her lips pressing into a tight line. He saw the conflict in her face—he could almost read her thoughts. She didn't want to go, didn't want to be seen in his world of rich, polished people, where she always felt out of place. But there was no denying it—she had no choice.

"Fine," she muttered reluctantly, finally looking up at him. "But I don't have anything to wear."

Ethan smiled, almost as if he'd been waiting for this. "My staff will send you a dress tomorrow morning," he said smoothly. "Don't worry about that. I'll give you the day off to get ready. You just need to be ready by eight."

Mira didn't respond. She wasn't sure if she was annoyed, nervous, or just resigned to her fate. But one thing was certain—she didn't want to be part of Ethan's world again.

---

The morning of the party, Mira stood in front of the mirror in her apartment, uncertain. She had been given a dress—a stunning, form-fitting black gown that hugged her curves like a second skin. The fabric was sleek, the kind of material that made her feel both exposed and contained at the same time. It had an exposed shoulder, just one side left bare, giving it a touch of daring elegance. Yet, she felt anything but daring.