“That’s possible.Who else?”
“I had to let some staff go.”The guilt of those conversations still sat heavy in my chest, the tears and the anger and the betrayal on faces I’d known my whole life.“Budget cuts.Some of them weren’t happy about it.A few made threats.”
“Disgruntled former employees with intimate knowledge of the building.”Clara nodded slowly, her expression sharpening.“They would know the layout.Know the security systems.Know the blind spots in the camera coverage.”
“The police said whoever delivered the package knew exactly where to walk to avoid being recorded.Like they’d studied the building.”
“So someone who works there.Or used to work there.”She paused, her eyes distant.“Or someone who’s been watching long enough to learn every weakness.”
A chill crawled down my spine that had nothing to do with the January cold seeping through the café windows.I’d been feeling watched for weeks now.Little moments that added up to something ominous.A prickle at the back of my neck while I worked in my father’s office.A shadow that seemed to move in my peripheral vision.The sense of eyes on me that vanished whenever I turned around.
I’d been telling myself I was paranoid.Stressed.Imagining threats where none existed.
Maybe I’d been wrong.
“The point is,” Clara said, pulling my attention back to her, “you’re facing multiple threats at once.The debt.This nightmare arrangement with Antonov.And now someone actively working to terrorize you and destroy the hotel’s reputation.”She reached across the table again and seized my hands, her grip almost painful.“You have to be careful.More careful than you’ve ever been in your life.Guard your heart.Guard your womb.Don’t let him get you pregnant, and don’t you dare let yourself develop feelings for whatever twisted game he’s playing.”
I bristled at that.At the automatic assumption that I was naive enough to fall for my own captor, stupid enough to let myself get knocked up like some careless teenager.
“I’m not a child, Clara.I know what I’m doing.”
“I know you’re not a child.”Her dark eyes softened, and for a moment she looked less like a corporate powerhouse and more like the cousin who’d taught me to ride a bike, who’d held my hair back the first time I got drunk at fifteen, who’d been the closest thing to a sister I’d ever had.“But you’re in over your head, Lena.This man is a predator.Whatever moments of tenderness he shows you, whatever gentleness he pretends to offer, it’s all part of the hunt.The wolf doesn’t actually care about the rabbit.He just wants to eat it.”
I thought about last night.The way he’d fed me with his own hands.The way his fingers had trembled, just slightly, when he’d tucked my hair behind my ear.The gap in my memory where something tender might have happened, or might not have.
“Use him,” Clara continued.“Use him the way he’s planning to use you.Get what you need from this arrangement.Survive the year.And when it’s over, walk away with your hotel and your freedom and your heart still intact.”
My phone buzzed in my purse.I almost ignored it, but something made me check.An email notification glowed on the screen, and the sender made my breath catch.
Apex Lending.
I opened it with shaking fingers.Clara watched me, her brow furrowing.
Dear Miss Hughes,
This letter serves as formal notification that the debt obligation in the amount of $20,000,000.00 USD, originally held by Apex Lending LLC against Hughes Hospitality Group, has been paid in full as of January 15th.
Please find attached the official Debt Release Statement and Lien Satisfaction documents for your records.All liens against the property known as The Hughes Hotel have been released.You are no longer obligated to Apex Lending in any capacity.
Sincerely,Apex Lending LLCDebt Resolution Department
Twenty million dollars.Gone.Just like that.
I stared at the screen until the words blurred.He’d actually done it.The morning after I’d knelt naked at his feet, the morning after I’d sucked chocolate off his fingers and asked him if he was going to fuck me, he’d paid off my debt.Every cent.
“Lena?”Clara’s voice cut through my daze.“What is it?”
I turned the phone toward her.Watched her eyes scan the email, widen, then narrow with grudging respect.
“Well.”She sat back in her chair.“He moves fast.”
“The contract said he’d pay after I moved in.He kept his word.”
“Of course he did.Men like him always honor the letter of their agreements.”Her voice was dry.“It’s the spirit they twist into knots.”
But I barely heard her.I was staring at that number.Twenty million.The weight that had been crushing my chest, the debt that had seemed impossible, insurmountable, the thing that had driven me to sell myself in the first place.
Gone.
