Chapter Three ISLA'S POV
1429 Words
My parents' backyard was cold in the October evening. Kai followed me out, closing the sliding door with a soft click.
"What did you need to talk about?" I wrapped my arms around myself, watching him through the dim patio light.
He held out his phone without a word.
I took it, my stomach dropping as I saw the photo. Me. Walking home from the subway. Taken from a distance. The timestamp showed today at four thirty.
The text below made bile rise in my throat.
"He's been following me." My voice sounded distant. "He's been watching me."
"How long?" Kai's voice was controlled, but something dangerous simmered underneath.
"I don't know. I thought I was being paranoid." My hands were shaking. "Sometimes I'd feel like someone was there, but I'd turn around and see nothing."
Kai took the phone back, his fingers brushing mine. "Why did he send this to you?"
"I don't know."
"Kai." I met his eyes for the first time in years. "Why would Brandon send you a photo of me?"
He looked away. "Because I threatened him. In the living room. He's retaliating."
"By stalking me?"
"By letting me know he can get to you whenever he wants." Kai's hands clenched into fists. "You're not going home tonight."
"Excuse me?"
"Your apartment isn't safe. He knows where you live. You need to stay somewhere he can't find you."
I laughed, but it came out bitter. "And where would that be? A hotel? My parents' house? Nadia's place that he also knows about?"
Kai was quiet for a long moment. "My penthouse. He doesn't know where I live. It's secure. Twenty-four hour doorman, cameras, coded elevator access."
My heart stopped. "You want me to stay with you?"
"I want you safe."
"Kai, we barely talk. You've spent five years acting like I don't exist, and now you want me to move into your apartment?"
"I never said you don't exist." The words came out rough. "And it's temporary. Just until we figure out how to handle Brandon legally."
"We?" I stepped closer. "Why do you care? Really?"
He looked at me then, and for just a second, I saw something raw in his expression. Then it was gone, replaced by his usual control.
"You're Marco's sister. Of course I care."
The words stung. "Right. Marco's sister. That's all I've ever been to you."
"Isla…."
"Forget it." I turned toward the house. "I'll figure something out on my own."
His hand caught my wrist, gentle but firm. "Don't go home alone tonight. Please."
The please broke something in me. Kai Westbrook didn't say please. Kai Westbrook didn't show emotion.
"Why do you care?" I asked again, softer this time.
He dropped my wrist. "Tomorrow morning. Nine AM. Construction site for the Apex project. You're the new lead designer."
I blinked at the subject change. "What?"
"Grace chose you. We'll be working together for the next six months. Which means Brandon will know exactly where to find you every day." Kai's jaw tightened. "He sent me that photo because he wants me to know he can hurt you. Which means he knows I…." He stopped abruptly.
"He knows you?"
"Nothing. It doesn't matter." Kai pulled out his phone. "I'm calling Marco. You're staying at my place tonight. Tomorrow we'll figure out a restraining order."
"You can't just decide that."
"Watch me." He was already dialing.
I grabbed his phone. "Stop. Just stop." We were standing too close now. "You don't get to swoop in and take control of my life just because Brandon's being a psycho."
"I'm not trying to control you."
"Then what are you trying to do?"
"Keep you alive!" The words exploded out of him. He immediately stepped back, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I just….this is serious, Isla. Brandon isn't going to stop. Men like him don't stop until someone makes them stop."
"And you think you're that someone?"
"I think I have resources you don't. Money. Security. Legal connections." His voice was gentle. "Let me help. Please."
There was that word again. Please.
"One night," I heard myself say. "I'll stay one night while I figure out my options."
Relief flooded his face. "Okay. Good. I'll drive you."
"I need to get my things from my apartment first."
"No. He might be watching. We'll send someone tomorrow with a police escort." He was already texting. "You have everything you need for tonight?"
I thought about my apartment. My clothes. My portfolio. "No, but I guess I'll manage."
"We'll stop and buy what you need."
"At nine PM?"
"I know places." He finally looked at me fully. "Thank you for trusting me."
"I don't trust you," I said honestly. "I don't even know you. But I also don't have better options right now."
Something flickered in his expression. Hurt? Regret?
The sliding door opened and Marco stepped out. "Everything okay out here?"
"Fine," I said quickly. "Kai was just telling me about tomorrow's meeting."
Marco looked between us suspiciously. "Right." He focused on me. "We're not done talking about Brandon."
"Later, Marco. I'm exhausted."
"You're staying here tonight."
Kai stepped in smoothly. "Actually, I need Isla to review some documents tonight for tomorrow's presentation. I was going to give her a ride and drop off the files."
The lie rolled off his tongue easily. Marco frowned but nodded. "Fine. But you're coming back for Sunday dinner."
Inside, I said quick goodbyes, ignoring my mother's knowing looks as Kai and I left together. His car was parked down the street, a sleek black Mercedes.
He opened the passenger door for me. We drove in silence for ten minutes before Kai spoke. "There's something else. About tomorrow."
"What now?"
"The project. Working together. It needs to look legitimate. Professional." He kept his eyes on the road. "Brandon can't think there's anything between us."
"There isn't anything between us."
"I know. But he sent me that photo for a reason." Kai's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "What matters is keeping you safe."
Kai pulled into an underground parking garage. "We're stopping here first. There's a 24-hour boutique on the second level."
"You really do know places."
He almost smiled. "I have a sister. Elena's dragged me shopping at strange hours more times than I can count."
It was the first personal thing he'd ever shared with me.
The boutique was expensive. Kai handed me his credit card without a word.
"I can't—"
"You can. This is my fault."
"How is Brandon being a stalker your fault?"
"Because I should have seen it coming. Should have done something sooner." He wouldn't look at me. "Just buy what you need for tonight and tomorrow."
I took the card, too tired to argue. Thirty minutes later, I had a small bag with toiletries, pajamas, and a professional outfit.
Kai's penthouse was in Tribeca, occupying the entire top floor. The elevator required a key card to access his floor. The doors opened directly into his apartment, floor-to-ceiling windows, modern furniture, and a view that took my breath away.
"The guest room is down that hall, second door on the left." Kai set my bag down. "Bathroom's attached."
"I'll be fine." I picked up the bag. "Thank you. For this."
He nodded stiffly. "I'll make coffee at seven. We should leave by eight fifteen."
"Kai?" I turned back. "Why did Brandon send you that photo? Really?"
For a long moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. Then: "Because in the living room, when I threatened him, he saw something. Something I shouldn't have let show."
"What did he see?"
Kai met my eyes. "That I'd kill him with my bare hands before I let him touch you again."
The confession hung between us, heavy with implications neither of us was ready to address.
"Get some sleep, Isla. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."
He walked away, disappearing into his bedroom. I stood in the middle of his living room, my mind spinning.
Kai Westbrook, the man who'd barely acknowledged my existence for five years, had just admitted he'd kill for me.
What the hell was happening?
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: *Sleeping at his place already? That was fast. Maybe you're not as innocent as you pretend, baby. We'll talk soon.*
Brandon. He knew. Somehow, he already knew where I was.
My hands started shaking again as I realized the truth: there was nowhere Brandon couldn't find me.
And Kai's penthouse might have just become a prison instead of a sanctuary.
- Writer
