foods, school extracurriculars, and my favorite freaking professor in college. He even had a list of every person I’d ever dated. I’m going to be sick. Bile coated my throat, but I set the binder down and picked up the second one with shaking hands. It was worse than the first. It contained full dossiers on not only me but everyone closest to me, including my family, friends, Maura, and previous boyfriends. The third folder housed a collection of media—my college graduation photos, a Thayer Chronicle article about the holiday food drive I’d organized, and a shot of me attending my first fashion show that’d made it onto some influencer gossip site years ago, to name a few. The photos and articles were all public domain. There were no private or candid shots, but seeing them together along with the rest of my files made me want to throw up. For a second, I thought he might be my stalker, but it didn’t make sense logistically. I also knew Christian well enough to know he wouldn’t terrorize me the way my stalker had. Not well enough that you anticipated him having a dossier on your entire life, an insidious voice in my head sang.
Perhaps Christian had a good reason for the files, but it was still a huge invasion of privacy. He hadn’t dug into just my life; he’d dug into everyone I knew. He’d done it without my consent, and he’d kept it from me. How long had he had those files? Days? Weeks? Months? My stomach rebelled, and I barely made it to the nearest bathroom before my breakfast made a messy reappearance. Tears stung my eyes as I heaved. This time last week, we’d been on a boat in Italy. I’d told him I’d loved him, and he’d kissed me like he loved me back. Seven days felt like a lifetime ago—long enough for a dream to twist into a nightmare. Maybe he needed that information to track down my stalker. Maybe he wanted to make sure no one in my life was a serial killer.
Maybe…maybe… I was grasping at straws, but all I could think about was Christian sitting at his desk, picking through my life with the ease of someone typing in a Google search. Even if he wasn’t my stalker, he’d crossed many of the same boundaries. Stepped over many of the same lines. The urge to vomit rose again. I’d already thrown up all the contents in my stomach, so I could only dry heave into the toilet. I have to get out of here. He wouldn’t be home for another few hours, but I couldn’t risk him leaving the office early and finding me like this. I couldn’t pretend everything was okay when it felt like nothing would be okay ever again. I forced myself off the floor and quickly cleaned up before I entered our bedroom. Although I had a ton of stuff stored in the guest room, I’d all but moved into Christian’s room after Hawaii. He’d cleared out a section of his closet for me, and the sight of my clothes hanging next to his familiar dark suits twisted my heart into an excruciating knot. “It wouldn’t hurt you to wear something other than black, gray, and navy, you know.” I lay in bed, wrapped up in the comforter and watching Christian get dressed. Suit. Tie. Watch. Cufflinks. I never thought watching a guy put on cufflinks would be sexy, but he made everything look sexy. “Other colors hurt my eyes.” “I wear other colors all the time.” “That’s different. I love everything you wear.” My stomach flipped, and I flopped back on my pillow with a sigh. “It’s not fair that you can end every argument by saying things like that.” Christian’s laugh lingered in the room long after he left. The memory pulled a smile out of me, but it faded when my current reality sank in again. The binders. The secrets.
The need to get the hell out of here before he came home. I couldn’t face him right now, not when my emotions were so raw and all over the place. I needed time to think and space to process away from him. I forced my eyes away from his section of the closet and threw the essentials into a duffel bag. A few changes of clothes, toiletries, and Mr. Unicorn, who I grabbed
on my way out. At the last minute, I scribbled a quick note to Christian and left it on his office desk. That and the files should be self-explanatory. I wasn’t ready to talk to him, but I worried what he might do if he came home and found me gone without a trace. I hugged Mr. Unicorn tight to my chest as I took the elevator down to the lobby. I didn’t care that I was an adult walking through public with a stuffed animal. He was the only male who’d never let me down. I knew Brock was keeping an eye on me and that he’d alert Christian to where I’d gone, but I’d deal with that later. For now, there was only one place I could go that was almost as safe as Christian’s used to be. “Ava?” I called her on my way out of the building. My voice wobbled, but I refused to cry. Not now, not here. “Can I come over? Something…something happened.”
41
CHRISTIAN
The stalker went underground again during our trip to Italy, as expected. That was what I wanted; I needed him out of the way while I sorted out the mess in my company. Alex hadn’t reported anything suspicious while I’d been gone, but instinct told me the stalker was planning something bigger than a few measly notes and wanted to fly under the radar until he could bring it to fruition. His note to me had likely been a slip-up. An ego-induced mistake that’d compelled him to prove he wasn’t scared of me and that he wasn’t going away. However, I needed to flush out the traitor first before I could deal with him effectively. Harper Security’s annual poker tournament was coming up in a few weeks. It was the one time of year when almost every employee could gather in one place for a night of fun and relaxation. The only people who couldn’t make it were those on long-term jobs, but my suspects would be there. I’d made sure of it. I loosened my tie as I took the elevator up to my apartment. Work was a goddamn shitshow these days, and my nights with Stella were the only things keeping me sane. I love you. My heart thrummed at the memory. It’d been a week since Stella turned my world upside down, and I was still reeling from the impact. I’d kept telling myself I didn’t believe in love, that what I felt for her wasn’t love, but she’d shattered that illusion with one simple phrase. The minute she’d said those words and looked at me with those beautiful green eyes, I’d known the truth. I was in love with her. It’d happened slowly. Bit by bit, piece by piece, like a puzzle becoming whole, until I couldn’t deny or ignore it any longer. I believe in everything when it comes to you. That’d been the closest I could bring myself to admitting the truth out loud. One of my fundamental life beliefs had fractured, and I hadn’t had time to process. When I eventually said the words, I wanted them to be real. Heartfelt. The elevator doors slid open. I stepped into the hall and entered my penthouse, but I paused two steps in. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled in warning. A strange stillness hung in the air. Usually, Stella was in the living room taking photos or working on her collection. Even if she was elsewhere, I felt her when I came home. Her warm, calming presence filled whatever space she was in. That presence was gone, replaced with the lemony scent of disinfectant. Nina wasn’t scheduled to come in today, so Stella must’ve been the one who cleaned. She only did that when she was particularly stressed. I quickened
my steps and checked her favorite rooms. She wasn’t in the library, bedroom, or kitchen either, nor was she on the rooftop where she usually did yoga. I didn’t have any missed messages from her, and she didn’t pick up when I called. “Stella?” I called out. My voice sounded calm despite my rising panic. No answer. She’s fine. She probably stepped out for fresh air or a snack. If something was wrong, Brock would’ve contacted me. Christ, why is it so fucking hot in here? I pushed the sleeves of my shirt up. The air conditioning was on full blast, yet I was burning up. I doubled back to the living room but saw something that gave me pause along the way. My office door was open. I always closed it before I left for work, and Stella never went in there except to take care of the plants. Even then, she closed the door on her way out. I pulled my gun from my waistband and kept it in hand as I stepped into the office. Cold foreboding splashed the back of my neck. The first thing I noticed was the spill of papers on my desk, along with three plain but distinctive black binders. The second thing I noticed was the note penned in her delicate, sprawling script. We need to talk about the files, but I’m not ready. I’ll be back when I am. I let out a string of curses. I shouldn’t have left the files somewhere where she could stumble on them, but I’d wanted to keep them close and couldn’t bring myself to throw them out after all these years. What if she saw them and thought… “Stella!” This time, my panic was audible. I knew she wasn’t there, but that didn’t stop my stomach from hollowing at the silence.