“Secure her. Now.”
23
AURORA
Something’s off. I can’t quite place it, but the sensation of being watched prickles along my spine as I walk from the parking garage to my office building. I glance over my shoulder. I don’t see anything unusual, just the typical morning crowd hurrying to work.
You’re being paranoid, Aurora.
I shake it off and push through the revolving doors into the Bloom’s Press lobby. After yesterday’s chaos with Olivia’s surprise London trip and my... encounter with Hunter, my nerves are frayed. That’s all this is.
By mid-morning, the feeling returns. While reviewing layout proofs at my desk, I catch a glimpse of movement outside my window. A man in a dark jacket quickly turns away when I look up. My heart stutters, but I rationalize it. Hundreds of people work in the building across the street.
When lunchtime arrives, I head to the little café two blocks down. As I wait for my order, I notice the same man from earlier, sitting alone at a corner table, pretending to read something on his phone. But the angle is all wrong, and his eyes keep darting toward me.
Ice floods my veins. This isn’t a coincidence.
I grab my lunch to go and hurry back to the office, taking a deliberately circuitous route. When I spot him again, half a block behind me, matching my pace, my suspicions crystallize into certainty.
Someone is following me.
Back at my desk, I try to focus on work, but my hands shake as I type. At five o’clock, I gather my things and take the elevator down. Through the glass doors, I can see him. The same dark jacket guy, wearing sunglasses despite the cloudy day and positioned casually against a newspaper stand.
Waiting for me.
With my purse clutched against my chest, I retreat to the lobby restroom and lock myself in a stall. With trembling fingers, I pull out my phone and call the one person I know can help.
Hunter answers on the first ring. “Aurora.”
“Someone’s following me,” I whisper, voice cracking. “All day. The same man. He’s outside the building now.”
“Stay inside. Don’t move.” His voice is deadly calm. “I’m three minutes away.”
When I peek out the lobby doors exactly four minutes later, I see Hunter’s Bentley screech to a halt at the curb. He emerges, scanning the street with glacial focus. When his eyes lock on the man in the dark jacket, his expression transforms into a terrifying fury carved into every line of his face.
Hunter strides toward me, wrapping a protective arm around my shoulders. The man in the dark jacket melts into the crowd before Hunter can reach him.
“You were right,” Hunter says, his voice tight as he scans the street. “That man was watching you.”
“Who is he? What does he want?” My voice trembles.
Hunter guides me toward his car, opening the passenger door. “Get in.”
Once we’re both inside the Bentley, Hunter turns to me, his expression grave. “It’s not uncommon in my position to attract unwanted attention. Someone’s been tracking my movements, and now they’re watching you too.”
“But why me?”
“Because they’ve seen us together.” His fingers grip the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. “Business rivals. They’re looking for leverage against me.”
Something in his explanation doesn’t quite fit, but fear clouds my judgment. “What do we do?”
“First, I’m taking you home. I need to check your apartment.”
During the drive, Hunter keeps glancing in the rearview mirror. The casual possessiveness I’d found both terrifying and thrilling before now feels like a shield.
At my apartment, Hunter doesn’t wait for an invitation. He follows me inside, immediately walking through each room.
“What exactly are you looking for?” I ask as he examines my light fixtures.
