Confessions in the dark

Chapter 5-The message

Ashley

The drive back to campus should have been the perfect time to clear my head, but every few minutes my eyes drifted toward the passenger seat where the money sat inside my purse. Five hundred dollars. Five hundred dollars from a man whose name I had only learned because someone else whispered it to me. I still couldn’t decide whether Sebastian Voss had been heaven sent or delivered straight from hell. Either way, I wasn’t about to complain. Whatever his reasons were, that money meant groceries, bills, and one less thing for me to worry about tonight. For that alone, I was grateful.

By the time I pulled into the university parking lot, I had convinced myself to stop thinking about him.

That lasted approximately thirty seconds.

Maya was waiting for me in our dorm room, sitting cross-legged on her bed with her laptop open and an expression on her face that told me she had been waiting for the exact moment I walked through the door. She was my best friend, my roommate, and arguably the most nosy person I’d ever met. She had a talent for turning a casual mention into a full investigation, which was probably why we worked so well together.

“You’re late,” she said.

“I’m working.”

“I know you’re working. That’s why I’m still awake.”

I dropped my bag beside my bed.

“You should be sleeping.”

“So should you.”

I looked at her.

She looked at me.

Then her eyes narrowed.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Ashley.”

“Maya.”

“You have that look.”

“What look?”

“The look you get when something happened and you’re pretending it didn’t.”

I sighed and pulled my purse from my shoulder.

“Something did happen.”

Her laptop snapped shut.

I smiled despite myself.

“Of course that’s what gets your attention.”

“Tell me.”

I sat on the edge of my bed and pulled out the money.

Maya’s eyes widened.

“Is that five hundred dollars?”

“Yes.”

“From one man?”

“Yes.”

She stared at me.

I stared back.

Then she slowly opened her laptop again.

“Oh, we’re investigating.”

I laughed.

“Maya.”

“What?”

“You don’t even know who he is.”

“Exactly. That’s why I’m investigating.”

She typed something into the search bar.

“What’s his name?”

I hesitated.

“Sebastian Voss.”

Her fingers stopped.

She looked at me.

“You’re joking.”

“No.”

“You mean Sebastian Voss?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I just know that’s what someone at the club called him.”

Maya turned the laptop toward herself and began typing.

“Who is Sebastian Voss?”

“Apparently, someone important.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I have.”

Within seconds, her screen was filled with articles.

Business magazines.

Financial publications.

Photographs of Sebastian stepping out of cars, attending charity events, shaking hands with politicians and businessmen.

There were articles about Voss Corporation, investments, acquisitions, and deals worth more money than I could comfortably comprehend.

Maya kept scrolling.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“He’s rich.”

“I gathered that.”

“No, Ashley. He’s rich rich.”

I laughed.

“How rich is rich rich?”

She looked at me.

“Enough that I’m questioning all my life choices.”

I rolled my eyes.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m serious.”

She continued scrolling.

“Look at this.”

I leaned closer.

There he was.

Sebastian Voss in a perfectly tailored suit, standing beneath a wall of cameras with the same expression he’d worn at the club.

Controlled.

Unreadable.

Untouchable.

I stared at the photograph longer than I meant to.

Maya noticed.

“You like him.”

“I don’t know him.”

“That’s not what I said.”

I pulled away from the screen.

“He gave me money and walked away.”

“Five hundred dollars.”

“Yes.”

“Without asking for anything?”

“Yes.”

She looked genuinely impressed.

“You struck gold.”

“I’m not looking for gold.”

“Everyone is looking for gold.”

“I’m looking for my degree.”

She laughed.

“Fine. But you have to admit he’s interesting.”

I looked at the photograph again.

Interesting wasn’t the word I would have used.

Mysterious.

That was closer.

There was something about him that didn’t make sense.

The man I’d seen at the club didn’t match the man in the photographs. In the articles, he looked polished and calculated, the kind of person journalists described as brilliant and intimidating.

But the man who had looked at me across that stage had seemed different.

More dangerous.

I couldn’t explain why.

Maybe it was the way he watched me.

Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t acted like the other men.

Or maybe it was because he had given me five hundred dollars without asking for anything in return.

Maya continued scrolling.

“There’s almost nothing personal about him.”

“Maybe that’s intentional.”

“Exactly.”

She clicked through another article.

“He’s private.”

“So?”

“So rich men aren’t usually private unless they’re hiding something.”

I glanced at her.

“You’ve been watching too many documentaries.”

“And you’ve been watching too much Sebastian.”

“I have not.”

She smiled.

“Yet.”

I threw a pillow at her.

She laughed and closed the laptop.

“Go to sleep.”

“I am going.”

I changed quickly, showered, and climbed into bed.

But sleep refused to come.

I turned onto my side.

Then my back.

Then my side again.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him.

The dark suit.

The whiskey.

Those eyes.

That barely-there smirk.

The way he’d looked at me like he wasn’t simply watching me dance.

Like he was trying to understand me.

I hated that I was thinking about him.

He was a stranger.

A wealthy stranger.

A powerful stranger.

And probably one I would never see again.

I rolled over and forced my eyes shut.

My phone vibrated.

I reached for it without thinking.

Unknown number.

My stomach tightened.

I opened the message.

I look forward to formally meeting you, Miss Simmons.

I sat upright.

For several seconds, I simply stared at the screen.

My heart began pounding.

Miss Simmons.

My full name.

I looked across the room.

Maya was asleep.

I looked back at my phone.

How did he know my name?

How did he get my number?

My mind immediately began creating possibilities, each one worse than the last.

Was this Sebastian?

If it was, how had he found me?

Had someone at the club given him my information?

Had he followed me?

Was he some kind of stalker?

I told myself to calm down.

Don’t jump to conclusions.

I stared at the message again.

There was nothing threatening about it.

Nothing explicit.

But somehow, that made it worse.

Because whoever had sent it knew exactly who I was.

I typed a response.

Who is this?

I waited.

Nothing.

A minute passed.

Then five.

Then ten.

No response.

I checked the number again.

Unknown.

I put my phone beside me.

Picked it up again.

Checked it.

Nothing.

I placed it facedown.

Then flipped it over.

Still nothing.

Sleep became impossible.

I lay there staring at the ceiling, wondering who was on the other end of that message and why they wanted to meet me.

Eventually, exhaustion won.

I must have worn myself out because the next thing I heard was my alarm.

Then Maya screaming.

“ASHLEY!”

I nearly fell out of bed.

“What?”

“WE HAVE PRESENTATIONS!”

I looked at the clock.

My stomach dropped.

“Oh, shit.”

We had presentations that morning.

Not just any presentations.

These were the presentations that would determine who was selected for the semester’s major investigative case study.

The case study would be the foundation of our final examination project, and it carried a significant portion of our grade.

I couldn’t afford to screw it up.

My financial aid depended on maintaining my grades.

I threw the covers off and jumped out of bed.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I thought your alarm would!”

“It did!”

“Clearly not effectively!”

I ignored her and rushed toward the bathroom.

Within minutes, I had transformed.

The woman from the club disappeared.

The scarlet red bob wig was gone, tucked away safely where it always was after nights like that.

In its place, my natural dark brown hair was pulled back into a simple, practical style.

The makeup was minimal.

Glasses replaced the confident, curated version of myself I wore when I needed to disappear into someone else.

Jeans.

A simple top.

Backpack.

Notebook.

Ashley was back.

Nerdy, sleep-deprived, ambitious Ashley.

The girl who wanted to become an investigative journalist.

The girl who believed that if she worked hard enough, she could build a life nobody could take from her.

As I grabbed my bag, my phone caught my attention.

The unknown message was still there.

I stared at it for half a second.

Then locked the screen.

Not now.

Whatever Sebastian Voss wanted, whatever game he was playing, I would deal with it later.

Today, I had something more important.

My future.

Maya grabbed her bag.

“Come on!”

“I’m coming.”

We rushed out of the dorm room and headed across campus.

By the time we reached the journalism building, my thoughts had shifted completely.

The club was gone.

The money was forgotten.

Sebastian was pushed somewhere deep into the back of my mind.

For now.

I had a presentation to give.

And a future to protect.