The more I talked, the easier it was, though a whisper of unease lingered in my stomach. I hated worrying my friends.
“So that’s why I moved in with Christian,” I finished. “It’s the safest thing to do while the stalker is still on the loose.”
I rubbed an absentminded thumb over my necklace—amethyst, for calming energies and stress relief. I’d hunted it down immediately after the movers brought my stuff up.
I needed all the stress relief I could get.
“Yes, but…” Ava blew out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I still can’t get over the part where this started three years ago, and you didn’t tell me. This isn’t a secret boyfriend or…or a side gig moonlighting as a dancer, Stella. You’re my best friend, and your life was in danger.” She didn’t sound angry; she sounded hurt, which was even worse. “I would’ve helped you.”
“There was nothing you could’ve done. If anything had happened to you because of me, I never would’ve forgiven myself.”
Another long pause. “Do Jules and Bridget know?”
My teeth sank into my bottom lip. “Jules knows about the first batch of letters since we were living together at the time. Bridget has no clue. The notes stopped coming after a few months,” I added. “So it wasn’t an issue for too long.”
Until they restarted.
“God,” Ava breathed. “This is bananas.”
“Not more bananas than getting kidnapped by your boyfriend’s psycho uncle, right?” I hid my nerves with a shaky laugh.
Despite her sunny demeanor, Ava had lived through more traumatic events than I have.
“Right. They could make soap operas out of our lives,” she said dryly. “Listen, just stay with me until you catch this guy. Alex won’t mind, and he’ll sort things out. Actually, let me get him.” She raised her voice. “Alex, can you come over here? I have—”
“No! Don’t tell him.” Involving Alex in something like this was a bad idea. He was as liable to murder someone as he was to help them. “I’ve got this under control. Besides, Christian is the security expert, and you have enough on your plate with the wedding.”
“Screw the wedding—crap. Hold on.” Ava must’ve covered the speaker because her words became muffled. “No, honey, of course I still want to get married! I was talking to Stella about the, um, wedding planner…no, don’t fire her. She’s great. I was just frustrated in the moment. Bridal nerves, you know. I’m fine now. Yes, I promise…why did I call for you? Uh, I’m craving those new raspberry lemon cookies from Crumble & Bake. Can you please run down and get some for me? Thank you! Love you.”
Ava returned, sounding breathless. “Sorry about that. Alex has been so on edge about the wedding. He made our florist cry the other day.” She sighed. “We’re working on his interpersonal skills.”
Usually, brides were the ones who obsessed over every detail, but Alex was type A to a fault.
“Anyway.” Ava turned serious again. “Are you sure you don’t need help? I know Christian probably has it handled, but Alex knows everyone.”
“Yes, I’m sure. There’s no need to drag more people into my mess than necessary.”
The situation had already ballooned out of control, with the move and a bodyguard and God knew what else. The last thing I wanted was for it to turn into even more of a circus.
“You’re not dragging us anywhere. We want to be there. You’re our friend, Stella,” Ava said gently. “If you’re in danger, we want to help. That’s what friends do. That’s what you would do for us.”
A knot of emotion formed in my throat. Natalia and I were sisters by blood, but Ava, Jules, and Bridget were my family by choice.
We’d been there for each other through the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, and even if I’d shielded them from the worst in my life, just knowing they were there helped me make it through the day.
Sometimes, all we needed was the knowledge someone somewhere cared about us.
“I know. If I need anything, I’ll tell you. I promise.”
“Okay.” Despite her palpable reluctance, Ava didn’t press the issue. “Stay safe. And I’m not just talking about the creep sending you notes.”
I’m also talking about Christian.
She didn’t say it, but I heard her loud and clear.
“I will.” I took another deep breath. “I have to go, but I love you.”
I could tell Ava wanted to say more, but she held back. “Love you too.”
I hung up.
One down, two more to go.
I called Jules next. She was going to lose her shit, but she already knew about the stalker, so maybe she’ll lose less of her shit?
Oh, who was I kidding? I would be lucky if she didn’t show up at my door wielding a machete and a plan to scour every neighborhood in D.C. until we found them.
“Hey, J,” I said when she picked up. “Are you home? You’re not near any sharp objects, are you? Good, because I have something to tell you…”
CHRISTIAN/STELLA
I spentthe day reviewing the security footage from yesterday. There were hours of useless video, but I kept coming back to the same spot—a half-hour “technical glitch” which coincided with Stella’s trip to the coffee shop.
The stalker had not only broken into her apartment; they’d also hacked into the Mirage’s closed-circuit surveillance system. It should’ve been impossible, but the thirty minutes of static that’d replaced what should’ve been a crystal-clear view of the hallway outside Stella’s apartment confirmed it.
I’d already ordered a full emergency overhaul of the building’s security system. Every code changed, every nook and cranny swept for evidence of tampering. They all came back clean, which meant one thing.
It’d either been an inside job, or the stalker had inside help.
My blood iced at the prospect.
Every employee had to pass extensive screenings before I hired them, but life changed. All it took was a debt or a loved one in danger to make a person vulnerable to bribery and persuasion.
I would know; I was often the one doing the bribing and persuading.
I eased a breath through my lungs and shrugged off my fury with a subtle roll of my shoulders.
There was a time and place for business. Dinner with Stella wasn’t it.
I was already running a second round of checks on everyone who worked at the Mirage and Harper Security. I would know by tomorrow whether anyone had weaknesses outsiders could exploit.
Until then, I’d keep the ugly details of the investigation to myself.
Outwardly, Stella had bounced back from the break-in, but she was good at hiding her true emotions.
Even her closest friends thought she was unflappable when the signs of her anxiety were so clear—the way her breathing changed and her eyes darkened, the way she twisted her necklace around her finger whenever she was upset.
She didn’t show any of those signs now, but that didn’t mean she’d put what happened behind her. It’d only been twenty-four hours, for fuck’s sake.
“By the way, Luisa told me about the Delamonte deal,” I said, filling the lull in our conversation. “Congratulations.”
Since the meal started, she’d talked about everything except the break-in. She hadn’t even mentioned how her friends took the news, not that I cared. I only cared that they didn’t endanger her by doing something stupid.
But if she didn’t want to talk about what happened, I wouldn’t force her to.
Instead of sitting next to me like she’d had at breakfast, she occupied the chair at the other end of the eight-person table.
The distance irked me more than it should have, but a tiny smile touched my lips when her eyes brightened at the mention of Delamonte.
“Thank you. I can’t believe I got the deal. I still need to talk to my manager and sign the contract, but…” Her smile dimmed. “Well, you know what happened. Anyway.” She cleared her throat and took a sip of her water. “I’m excited. The campaign can open a lot of doors for me.”
“Is that what you want? To work with brands full time?”
From a logical standpoint, moving Stella into my house was one of the worst decisions I could’ve made.
She was my biggest distraction. My weakness.
That was why I’d tried to keep my distance that morning, but I didn’t fucking appreciate her telling me she didn’t care if I went out and fucked other women.
Like I’d been able to focus on any other woman since I met her.
I’d lasted less than a day trying to stay away from her.
“I think it’s good for the short term,” Stella said in response to my question. “I’m not sure it’s sustainable for the long term. I actually…”
I waited while indecision played across her features.
It was the look of someone who had a secret they were desperate but afraid to tell.
“I might start my own fashion brand eventually. It’s not a sure thing,” she rushed out. “Just an idea I had. We’ll see.”
My eyebrows rose, more in intrigue than surprise.
Stella starting a fashion line made more sense than her working at a magazine.
Some people were leaders, others were followers. Stella might think she was the latter, but she was too talented and shone too brightly to be hemmed in by other people’s expectations.
“I think it’s a great idea.”