“They don’t say anything.Just heavy breathing, then they hang up.Three calls so far, all since this morning.”
My blood went cold.Eight in the morning.I was at the manor by eight.Already locked behind Raphael’s gates while someone called my empty office over and over.Waiting for me to answer.Knowing I wouldn’t be there.
“Did you call the police?”
“Michael said not to.Said it was probably just a prank, some kid messing around.He’s handling it.”
Michael.I tried to picture him handling anything more serious than a supply order.Failed.
“Forward any more calls to my cell.I want to hear it myself.”
“Are you sure?Lena, you sound…”
“Just do it, please.”
I hung up before she could ask more questions.
The manor was silent around me.No traffic noise, no footsteps in the hall, no distant murmur of guests checking in.Just the old house settling into its bones and my own heartbeat loud in my ears.
Someone was watching me.Had been watching me since the corgi, maybe longer.Knew my schedule, knew when I wouldn’t be there to answer, knew things they shouldn’t know.The dead dog had been a message.These calls were another.A reminder that I wasn’t safe anywhere.
“Problem?”
I spun around.
Raphael stood in the doorway, silent as a ghost.I hadn’t heard him approach.Hadn’t heard the door, hadn’t heard footsteps.He was just there, filling the frame with his broad shoulders and his unreadable eyes.How long had he been watching me?
It wasn’t the first time he’d appeared without warning.The man moved like silence was a skill he’d perfected, every footstep somehow absorbed by the floorboards that creaked under my weight.I tried to believe some people were just quiet.But this felt different.Deliberate.Almost inhuman.
“Someone’s been calling my hotel line.”I watched his face for a reaction.“Hang-ups.Heavy breathing.”
His expression didn’t change, but something in his stillness sharpened.A predator scenting prey.The air between us grew heavier, charged with tension I refused to name.
“Since the dog?”
“Yes.Since the dog.”
He nodded once, a muscle ticking in his jaw.“You’re safe here.My security is absolute.”
“And when I’m not here?”
His eyes met mine, and I saw something in them I hadn’t seen before.Not possessiveness.Not control.Something older and fiercer, something that looked almost like concern.Almost like fear.
“You’ll have protection.Always.”
“I don’t need…”
But he was already gone, disappeared back into the labyrinth of his house, leaving me alone with my fear and the terrible realization settling into my chest.
I was trapped here.The collar box sat on his desk like a promise of things to come.My belongings had been absorbed into his life like I’d never existed outside it.The man holding my leash was dangerous and controlling and probably incapable of genuine feeling.
But right now, behind his gates and his bars and his absolute security, I was safer than I’d been in weeks.
The phone sat silent in my hand.
Waiting.
13
