Shadows of the Past
1065 Words
The message lingered on Sophia’s phone screen, a stark contrast to the warm glow of her apartment.
"You shouldn’t trust him."
Her heart pounded as she reread the words, her fingers tightening around the glass of whiskey in her hand. She was no stranger to cryptic warnings and power plays, but something about this message unsettled her in a way she couldn’t quite explain.
Who the hell was watching her?
A friend.
That was the only clue the sender had given.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard again.
“What do you know?”
The three dots indicating a response appeared for a moment, then disappeared.
Sophia’s breath hitched.
No response.
She stared at the screen, willing it to light up again, but nothing came.
With a frustrated sigh, she set the phone down and took another sip of her drink, trying to calm the storm inside her.
This was a game.
And if she had learned anything from growing up in the corporate world, it was that every game had a player hiding behind the scenes.
She just had to figure out who.
The following morning, Sophia barely slept.
She spent the night tossing and turning, her mind tangled with thoughts of the message, Nathaniel, and the impossible decision looming over her.
By the time dawn broke, she had made a resolution.
She needed answers.
And there was only one person who could give them to her.
Nathaniel’s office was on the top floor of Blackwood Tower, a sleek glass structure that loomed over the city like a fortress.
Sophia stepped off the elevator, her heels clicking against the marble floors as she made her way to his assistant’s desk.
The woman behind the desk—tall, blonde, and impossibly poised—offered a professional smile.
“Miss Reynolds, Mr. Blackwood wasn’t expecting you.”
Sophia met her gaze evenly. “I need to see him.”
The assistant hesitated, then nodded. “One moment.”
She picked up the phone, murmured something, then gestured toward the doors behind her.
“You can go in.”
Sophia took a breath and pushed the doors open.
Nathaniel was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out over the city. His suit jacket was draped over the back of his chair, his sleeves rolled up.
He looked powerful. Untouchable.
And annoyingly composed.
He turned as she entered, a smirk playing at his lips.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Sophia didn’t waste time. She pulled out her phone and placed it on his desk, the message still visible.
Nathaniel glanced at it, then raised an eyebrow.
“You think I sent this?”
“I think someone is playing a game,” she said coolly. “And you’re the one pulling the strings, so tell me—who else would it be?”
Nathaniel chuckled, leaning back against his desk. “If I wanted to warn you about myself, I’d be far less subtle.”
Sophia crossed her arms. “Then who sent it?”
He studied her, his gaze unreadable. Then, without a word, he picked up his own phone and dialed a number.
A moment later, a deep voice answered.
“Sir.”
“Check incoming messages to Sophia Reynolds’ phone,” Nathaniel ordered. “Find out where they came from.”
A pause.
Then, “Understood.”
Nathaniel ended the call and looked at her. “Give it an hour.”
Sophia frowned. “You can trace it that fast?”
Nathaniel’s smirk deepened. “Darling, I can do a lot of things.”
Something in the way he said it sent a shiver down her spine.
Sophia paced Nathaniel’s office as they waited for the call back.
She didn’t like feeling out of control, and right now, that’s exactly what she was.
Nathaniel, on the other hand, looked completely at ease. He sat at his desk, flipping through files, barely paying her pacing any mind.
It was infuriating.
Finally, his phone rang again.
He answered with a curt, “Talk.”
Sophia held her breath.
“The number was untraceable,” the voice on the other end said. “Encrypted. Whoever sent it knows what they’re doing.”
Nathaniel’s expression darkened. “Keep digging.”
He ended the call and set the phone down.
Sophia frowned. “That’s it?”
“For now.”
She exhaled sharply. “Nathaniel, if someone is watching me—”
“They’ve been watching you for a while,” he interrupted.
Sophia stilled.
“What?”
Nathaniel leaned forward, his fingers steepled. “Your father had enemies, Sophia. That didn’t change when he died.”
She swallowed. “And you knew this?”
His gaze was sharp. “I make it my business to know everything.”
Sophia’s stomach churned.
She had spent years trying to outrun her father’s world.
But it seemed like it had never really let her go.
That evening, Sophia returned home, her mind reeling.
She stepped into her apartment and locked the door behind her, her nerves on edge.
She was being watched.
And now, Nathaniel knew it too.
She grabbed a glass of water, trying to steady herself, when her phone buzzed again.
She hesitated before picking it up.
Another message.
“Be careful who you trust.”
Her breath caught.
And then—
A knock at the door.
She spun, heart hammering.
Slowly, she approached and peered through the peephole.
Nothing.
Another knock.
“Sophia.”
She exhaled sharply.
Nathaniel.
She unlocked the door and pulled it open, glaring up at him.
“Are you following me now?”
Nathaniel leaned against the doorframe, unbothered. “No. But after today, I figured I should check in.”
Sophia narrowed her eyes. “Check in or keep tabs?”
He smirked. “Does it matter?”
She let out a frustrated sigh and stepped aside, letting him in.
Nathaniel glanced around her apartment, then back at her.
“You shouldn’t be alone,” he said simply.
Sophia crossed her arms. “I can take care of myself.”
His gaze darkened. “That’s not the point.”
A tense silence stretched between them.
Then, softer, he said, “Whoever sent that message… they’re not done.”
Sophia swallowed hard.
She knew he was right.
And for the first time…
She wasn’t sure she wanted to face this alone.
- Writer
