"Did your call connect?"
Ice flooded my veins.
"Hand over the phone." He extended his palm like a child requesting a toy.
"I don't know what you mean..."
"I said, give me the phone." His voice remained calm, but that calm was more terrifying than rage.
I clenched my jaw, gripping tighter.
Lucas watched me, then smiled. He produced a small black device, waving it mockingly.
"Signal jammer." His smile widened. "Activated when you entered."
I looked at my phone.
The screen displayed: No signal. Call duration: 0 seconds.
It never connected. Never from the beginning.
"You..." My voice trembled. "You knew?"
"Obviously." Lucas reclined casually, lighting another cigarette. "Think your little maneuver was subtle? Ella, please—I'm not blind."
He inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly.
"Though I found it quite entertaining."
"What?"
"Watching people approach hope," Lucas tilted his head, sick excitement flickering in his eyes, "then watching hope shatter... That expression is always exquisite."
"Lucas, what do you want?"
Silence pressed around us. I heard my heartbeat, pounding, numbing my chest.
"Don't be tense." He smiled, cigarette between his lips, tapping the wheel. "Just a job."
"What job?" My hand felt for the door handle.
"Someone paid handsomely," Lucas said lightly. "An absolutely irrefusable sum. To befriend you, earn your trust..."
He paused, expression chilling me.
"Then photograph you."
"What... photographs?"
"The reputation-destroying kind." Lucas exhaled smoke. "Disheveled, compromising positions, preferably suggesting... you know."
His fingers made an obscene gesture.
Nausea surged.
"You're insane!"
"Not insane. Perfectly lucid." Lucas discarded his cigarette. "Like I said, Ella—with enough money..."
