Alexander arrived at Emma’s apartment within twenty minutes, his face set in a grim mask. He stepped inside, locking the door behind him before sweeping the room with his sharp gaze. His presence, usually commanding and composed, was now tinged with an edge of protectiveness that Emma couldn’t ignore.
“Show me the messages,” he said, his tone clipped.
Emma handed him her phone, her hands trembling slightly. He scrolled through the messages and the attached photo, his jaw tightening with each second.
“They’re escalating,” he muttered. “Whoever this is, they’re making it personal now.”
Emma swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think it’s Neil? Or... could it be someone else entirely?”
Alexander paced the room, his mind visibly working through the possibilities. “Nei
