The day began like any other until a single moment altered everything. While in my boss’s office, I accidentally discovered a photo and a few notes that left me wondering just how closely someone had been observing me… and for what reason. I have to share this because, honestly, I still find it hard to believe it actually happened.
If someone claimed this was the plot of a film, I would probably chuckle and say, “Nice one!” But this? This was real life. Let me rewind a bit.
I’m Evelyn, 25 years old. Freshly graduated with an accounting degree, I figured I would be doing odd jobs for years before I got a legitimate opportunity in my field. But two weeks ago, everything shifted.
I secured a position at one of the city’s top real estate firms. It felt like a dream realized. Sure, my experience was limited, but I was eager to make my mark.
My boss, Blake, is quite a notable figure. In his late 40s, sharp and commanding, he has a presence that fills a room before he even enters it. He’s someone who commands respect and admiration.
Charismatic and successful, yet… aloof. Always polite and professional, but never too familiar. To me, he was simply “Mr.
Blake.” Just my boss. Nothing more. Then came Thursday.
I expected an ordinary afternoon. I had a stack of documents needing his signature, so I went to his office. He wasn’t in, so I left the papers on his desk.
But then… something caught my eye. Something that made me freeze. There, on his typically immaculate desk, sat a framed picture of me.
I blinked, convinced I must be mistaken, but no. It was indeed a photo of me—one I couldn’t even place, as if it had been taken when I wasn’t aware. Yet it was unmistakably me.
Right there. And around the edges were words written in his distinct handwriting. “My Dream.”
“I Love You.”
My heart raced so hard I thought it might explode.
What is this? I wondered. Why… Why does he have this?
And those notes… and worst of all, my birth date, as if I were some cherished trophy he had cataloged. My hands shook as I grasped the frame, my mind teeming with frantic questions. Just then, I heard footsteps approaching.
Before I could even start to process it, the door swung open behind me. It was Mr. Blake—he halted in the doorway upon seeing me clutching the photo.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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