Chapter ten- Shadows watching
1349 Words
The coffee sat untouched on the island until it went cold.
Adrian had retreated to his office after our last exchange, the silence was thick on the other side. I didn’t care. I didn’t want his coffee, his apologies, or the way he looked at me like I was something fragile he could still fix. I wanted quiet. I wanted to breathe without feeling his guilt pressing against my skin.
I carried the mug to the sink, poured it out, and watched the dark liquid swirl down the drain. Then I opened my phone again.
The anonymous photo from the gala was still deleted, but the message lingered in my mind like smoke: *Some choices follow you.*
I scrolled through my contacts, my thumb hovering over Nikolas’s name. I hadn’t texted him since the rooftop. Hadn’t dared. But the number was still there. A single tap away from something I couldn’t take back.
I locked the screen instead.
The penthouse felt too large, too empty. I wandered to the floor-to-ceiling windows, pressed my forehead to the cool glass. Manhattan glittered below endlessly. Somewhere out there, Nikolas was moving through his world. I wondered if he was thinking about me the way I was thinking about him. If he was angry. If he was waiting.
A soft buzz from the entry table made me turn.
Another envelope. Plain white. No name. Slid under the door while I was in the kitchen.
My pulse kicked up.
I picked it up with trembling fingers. Inside was a single photograph of me walking out of the café with Noah yesterday. My head down, hair falling across my face, Noah’s hand on my elbow. The angle was close. Too close. Taken from across the street.
On the back, in the same neat handwriting as before: *They’re watching you too.*
I dropped the photo like it burned.
My first instinct was to run to Adrian’s office. To shove it under his nose and demand he explain. But the thought of his face, guilty, conflicted, useless stopped me cold.
I didn’t want his protection anymore.
I wanted answers.
I texted Noah instead.
*Another photo. Me and you at the café. Someone’s following us.*
His reply came fast: *Where are you? I’m coming over.*
*No. Penthouse isn’t safe. Meet me at the bookstore on 57th. Thirty minutes.*
I grabbed my coat, slipped the photo into my pocket, and left before Adrian could emerge.
The elevator ride down felt endless. I kept my head down, avoiding the doorman’s eyes. Outside, the air was sharp with early fall. I walked fast, hood up, scanning every black SUV that passed. My heart hammered every time one slowed.
The bookstore was quiet, tucked between a café and a gallery. I slipped inside, headed to the back corner where the art books were shelved high enough to hide behind. Noah arrived ten minutes later, out of breath, eyes scanning the aisles.
He found me between two tall stacks.
“Show me,” he said without preamble.
I handed him the photo. His jaw tightened as he studied it.
“This wasn’t taken with a phone,” he muttered. “Professional lens. Telephoto. Someone was waiting for us.”
“Who?” My voice cracked.
“I don’t know yet.” He flipped it over, read the note. “But they’re escalating. First the bar, then the gala, now this. They want you scared.”
“I am scared,” I admitted.
He squeezed my shoulder. “We need to move faster on the trust stuff. I have a contact at the records office who owes me a favor. If we can get the original birth certs—”
A shadow fell across the aisle.
I froze.
Nikolas stood at the end of the row, hands in his coat pockets, blue eyes locked on me like I was the only thing in the store.
Noah stiffened. “Who the hell—”
“Leave,” Nikolas said quietly. Not to me. To Noah.
Noah stepped in front of me. “She’s not going anywhere with you.”
Nikolas didn’t even glance at him. His gaze stayed on mine. “You left without telling anyone. I had to find you.”
“How?” I whispered.
He took one step closer. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
Another step. Close enough I could smell him. Whiskey. “I have ways. People. Eyes. You’re not invisible, Aria. Not to me.”
Noah reached for his phone. “I’m calling—”
Nikolas moved faster than I expected. One hand caught Noah’s wrist, gentle but unyielding. “Don’t.”
Noah yanked free, glaring. “Touch her and I’ll—”
“Enough.” I stepped between them. “Noah, it’s okay. Give us a minute.”
Noah looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Aria—”
“Please.”
He hesitated, then nodded once. “I’ll be right outside. Five minutes. Then we’re leaving.”
He walked away, shoulders rigid.
Nikolas waited until the door chime sounded before he spoke.
“You’re shaking,” he said softly.
“I’m terrified.”
“Good.” He closed the distance until I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “You should be. Because the people watching you aren’t playing games. And the man you’re married to can’t protect you from them.”
“And you can?”
His thumb brushed my cheek. “I already am.”
I swallowed. “Adrian—”
“Is weak.” His voice dropped darker. “He begged outside your door like a child. He let another woman into his study while you were gone. And now he wants both of you. He wants the wife and the mistress. He’s not protecting you. He’s protecting his ego.”
Tears burned my eyes. “I know.”
“Then stop pretending you don’t.” His hand slid to the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair. Not pulling. Holding. “You’re mine, Aria. You’ve been mine since that night in the bar. The ring on your finger doesn’t change that. The vows you said don’t change that. The only thing that changes it is when you admit it.”
I closed my eyes. “I can’t just—”
“You can.” His forehead rested against mine. “One word. One yes. And I take you out of that cage tonight. No more locked doors. No more begging. No more pretending you’re safe with him.”
My breath hitched. “And then what?”
“Then I keep you.” His lips brushed my temple. “I protect you. I burn anyone who looks at you wrong. I give you everything he never could. And when the time comes, I put my ring on your finger. The right way. Because you chose it.”
I opened my eyes. His were dark, intense, burning.
“I’m scared of you too,” I whispered.
He smiled, just a flicker, dangerous and tender at once. “You should be. But you’re more scared of staying where you are.”
He was right.
I hated that he was right.
I opened my mouth, to say yes, to say no, to say anything, but the bookstore door chimed again. Noah’s voice carried through the stacks.
“Aria. Time’s up.”
Nikolas didn’t move. His hand stayed on my neck, thumb stroking the pulse there.
“Think about it,” he murmured. “Tonight. Tomorrow. Whenever you’re ready. But don’t wait too long. The people watching won’t.”
He stepped back and let me go.
Then he turned and walked out the side exit without another word.
I stood there, heart slamming, until Noah found me again.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded. Lied.
But when we left the bookstore, I felt eyes on my back.
Not just Noah’s.
Not just the anonymous watcher’s.
Nikolas’s.
And for the first time, the weight of being watched didn’t feel like a threat.
It felt like a promise.
- Writer
