The Ghost Of The Past

Chapter Six: The Ghost of the Past The world stopped spinning. The chatter of students in the hallway faded into a dull hum, and all I could hear was the frantic, uneven thumping of my own heart. Standing there, just a few feet away, was the man who had occupied my nightmares and my secret hopes for three long years. He looked exactly like the photos, yet the digital screen didn’t do justice to the sheer intensity of his presence. He was dressed in a charcoal-grey suit that screamed power, his dark hair perfectly styled, and those piercing blue eyes—the same eyes I saw every morning when Chase woke up—were locked onto mine. “Alexander,” I whispered, the name feeling like a piece of glass in my throat. Lisa stood beside me, vibrating with excitement, completely oblivious to the silent war being waged in the air between us. "You two... you know each other?" she chirped, looking from him to me. Alexander didn’t look at her. He took a step forward, his gaze raking over me, taking in my modest teaching clothes, my messy bun, and the frantic way I was clutching my lesson planner. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth—that cold, arrogant tilt I remembered all too well. “More than just know each other, Lisa,” Alexander said, his voice smooth as silk and just as dangerous. “Rachael was one of my most... memorable employees in New York. Until she decided to vanish without a word.” “I didn’t vanish,” I found my voice, though it was thin. “I relocated. People do that, Mr. Knights.” “Mr. Knights? How formal,” he countered. He turned to the school Dean, who was hovering behind him like a nervous shadow. “Dean Miller, I believe I’ve found the perfect person to lead the curriculum integration. Ms. … what is it now? Still Rachael Walters?” “Yes,” I snapped, perhaps too quickly. I didn’t want him thinking about names. I didn't want him thinking about anything that lead back to a birth certificate. The Dean beamed, sensing a connection that could benefit the school. “Excellent! Rachael is one of our brightest instructors. She’s actually scheduled to teach Workplace Ethics in ten minutes. Perhaps you’d like to sit in, Alexander?” My blood ran cold. Teaching a class on ethics while the man who had ruthlessly discarded me watched from the back row felt like a sick joke. “I wouldn't miss it for the world,” Alexander said. As the Dean walked ahead, Alexander leaned in close to my ear. The scent of his expensive cologne—sandalwood and rain—hit me like a physical blow. “We have a lot to catch up on, Rachael. You look... well. A little tired, perhaps? Are you getting enough sleep here in Seattle?” “I’m doing just fine,” I hissed, stepping back to reclaim my space. “Why are you really here, Alexander? Seattle is a long way from Wall Street.” He adjusted his cufflinks, his expression unreadable. “I told you. I’m expanding. But seeing you here? That’s an unexpected... bonus.” I managed to get through the lecture, though my hands shook every time I wrote on the whiteboard. Alexander sat in the back, watching my every move like a predator. He didn't take notes. He just watched. When the bell finally rang, I tried to bolt, but he was at my desk before I could pack my bag. “Lunch,” he commanded. It wasn't a request. “I have plans,” I lied. My plan was to run to the daycare, grab Chase, and hide under my bed. “Break them. Unless you want me to discuss your ‘sudden resignation’ with the Dean,” he threatened softly. “I’m sure he’d be interested to know why such a star teacher left her previous post so... abruptly.” I looked at him, seeing the predator behind the blue eyes. He didn't know about Chase yet—I was sure of it. If he knew, he wouldn't be playing games; he would be calling lawyers. But the longer he stayed in Seattle, the thinner the ice became. “Fine,” I said, my voice steadying with a newfound resolve. “Lunch. But we talk about the partnership, and nothing else.” He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. “We’ll see about that, Rachael. We’ll see.”