(Elena’s POV)
The elevator doors slid shut, sealing us in a box of polished brass and mirrored glass. My phone buzzed again in my hand, a persistent vibration against my palm. Julian's eyes flicked to it, then back to mine.
"Check it."
I turned the screen toward myself. A new message from the unknown number, now labeled in my phone asMarcus. No games this time. Just a link and a single line of text.
Listen before you block me. Julian doesn't know everything.
My thumb hovered over the link. Julian's hand covered mine, warm and steady.
"Open it."
I tapped. The screen shifted to a audio player. A waveform appeared, gray and innocent. I pressed play.
My own voice filled the elevator.
"Please... sir. Please touch me."
The recording was crystal clear. Every tremor. Every gasp. The wet
