Page 168 of Reckless

Good.

I lean down, looking him square in the eyes. “I’ll pull every social media account you’ve ever signed up for… Facebook, Instagram, X, Reddit. The stupid forum you joined fifteen years ago and forgot existed. Every email address, every cloud backup, every username you’ve recycled because you thought changing the number at the end made it different.” His jaw tightens. “I’ll wreck your credit so badly you’ll spend the next decade wondering why nobody will approve a loan. New cards? Declined. Mortgage? Declined. Car finance?” I shrug. “Well, you get it.”

His eyes stay locked on mine now.

He’s finally listening.

“I’ll make sure your name starts appearing in places you don’t want it. Employment checks, background reports, watchlists that don’t quite stop you living…” I tilt my head, “…they just make every part of your life harder.”

His breathing has changed.

He is finally working out this isn’t a bluff.

“You’ve got an Alexa.” The words leave my mouth so casually they almost sound like an observation.

His forehead creases. “How did you?”

“You look like the kind of guy who likes convenience.” I shrug. “Smart lights too.”

He doesn’t answer.

The way his pupils blow just a fraction tells me I guessed right.

“I’ll have your own house keeping you awake.” I let that settle. “Random alarms at three in the morning, music you didn’t ask for, shopping lists you never made, doors unlocking, lights turning on, your thermostat changing while you’re asleep. I mean… no one likes a hot house at night.”

His face has lost what little color it had. “You’ll spend months blaming software updates before you finally accept somebody’s inside.” I lean forward until we’re almost eye level. “And every morning, before you even pour your first coffee, you’ll wonder if today is the day I decide to remind you I’m still there.”

He swallows hard.

“I’ll find your parents…” Another pause. “Your brothers, sisters, friends.” His eyes flick away for the first time. “I’ll send them little reminders. Not enough to get arrested.” I smile. “I’m smarter than that.” My voice stays conversational. “Just enough that they start asking questions…” Another pause for effect. “They’ll wonder why strangers keep sending them photographs. AI images of you in the most compromising positions.” His breathing catches. “They’ll wonder why people start whispering your name.” I glance at the shattered camera lying across the concrete. “They’ll wonder why nobody wants to be associated with Ryan Gilbert anymore.”

Silence fills the warehouse.

The only sound is the hum of the lights overhead.

“You spent weeks hiding behind a lens, thinking you were untouchable.” I stand, dusting my hands together. “You thought terrifying my woman was just another job.” I look down at him. “You picked the wrong club. You picked the wrong woman.” I stand taller, puffing out my chest. “Because she is mine!” The words hang there between us. “And now…” I reach down, patting the pocket where his driver’s license sits. “I know exactly who you are.” I hold his gaze. “You’ll forget about tonight eventually…” a slight smile pulls at my mouth, “… but I won’t.”

For the first time since I laid eyes on him, I see it.

Not panic or bravado, the slow, sinking realization that this didn’t end the way he’d planned.

He came here to watch us.

Instead, I’ve spent the last five minutes memorizing him.

I leave him zip-tied to the steel support and start walking. The sound of my boots echoes through the warehouse behind me, but I don’t look back.

Ryan Gilbert’s face is already burned into my memory, his address sitting in my pocket, a dozen different ways to ruin his life lining themselves up in my head before I even reach the stairs.

Good.

He earned every one of them.

By the time I step back onto the warehouse floor, the satisfaction has already given way to something else.

The camera wasn’t here by accident.

Neither was Ryan.