Chapter 6: The Coldness of Possession
1004 Words
The penthouse was dark when I hung up with Marcus.
I stood by the window, the new phone clutched in my hand, staring at the city lights. Somewhere out there, Alexander was hunting. He had the email. He had the IP address. He had resources I couldn’t imagine.
And Theo—my four-year-old son—had just fired a missile he didn’t understand the payload of.
I dialed Marcus again.
“Tell me you wiped everything.”
“I’m at Dalton now.” His voice was low, urgent. “The tablet is clean. His laptop is clean. I’m running a factory reset on every device he’s touched in the last thirty days. ”
“What about the school’s network logs?”
“Already spoofed. Theo left a false trail pointing to a VPN in Moscow. It’ll buy us a few hours. Maybe a day.”
I closed my eyes. A day. Alexander Blackwood had unlimited resources. A day was nothing.
“Elena.” Marcus’s voice softened. “You need to tell me what happened. How did Theo even get Alexander’s email address? ”
“I don’t know.” The words came out hollow. “He’s four. But he’s also… him. Alexander’s son. He inherited more than just dark eyes. ”
Silence on the line. Then: “I’ll stay at the school tonight. Sleep in the security office. No one gets near him.”
“Thank you, Marcus.”
“Don’t thank me. Just keep Alexander away from Dalton. If he shows up here with a court order… ”
“He won’t.” I didn’t believe the words as I said them. “He doesn’t even know Theo exists. Not really. Just a name on a voicemail I never left.”
“He heard you say ‘Theo’ in your sleep. That’s enough for a man like him to start digging.”
I knew Marcus was right. Alexander was a hunter. And hunters followed every scent.
“I’ll handle it,” I said. “Just keep Theo safe.”
I hung up.
The new phone buzzed.
Alexander: Come downstairs. We need to talk.
My blood ran cold. He was in the building. He was back.
I considered ignoring him. Pretending I was asleep. But he had a key. He had already proven he would use it.
I pulled on a robe and took the elevator to the lobby.
Alexander stood by the concierge desk, his phone in his hand, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t wearing a jacket. His white shirt was untucked, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He looked like a man who had been working—hunting—for hours.
“You look terrible,” I said.
“I’ve been awake for thirty-two hours.” He didn’t smile. “The anonymous email. The one I showed you.”
“What about it?”
“It came from inside Dalton Academy. ”
My heart stopped. I kept my face neutral. “That’s impossible. I don’t know anyone at Dalton who would send you a threat.”
“Neither do I.” He stepped closer. “Which is why I’m asking you directly. Do you have a child, Elena? ”
The word hit me like a physical blow. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t blink. I held his gaze with every ounce of ice I had built over four years.
“No.”
“Your left eye is twitching.”
“I’m tired. You kept me up all night, remember?”
He studied me for a long, terrible moment. Then he stepped back.
“I’m hiring a private investigator. If there’s a child—yours, a relative’s, a friend’s—I will find out. And when I do, I will want to know why you lied.”
He turned and walked toward the elevator.
I stood in the lobby, my legs shaking, until the doors closed behind him.
I didn’t go back to the penthouse.
I walked outside, into the cold New York night, and hailed a cab.
“Dalton Academy,” I said. “And step on it.”
The cab cut through the city. I pressed my forehead against the cold window, watching the lights blur.
He’s hiring a private investigator.
He will find out.
When I do, I will want to know why you lied.
I thought of Theo. His serious eyes. His small hands flying across a keyboard. His voice, matter-of-fact, telling me my social score was a C+.
He had tried to protect me. And now he was in danger.
The cab pulled up to Dalton Academy. The gates were locked, but Marcus was waiting at the security booth. He let me in without a word.
We walked through the empty halls, past the lockers and the classrooms, to the small dormitory where Theo slept during the week.
I opened the door.
He was curled under the covers, his stuffed whale tucked under his arm. His tablet was gone—wiped, clean, a brick of glass and metal in Marcus’s bag.
I sat on the edge of the bed. He stirred.
“Mommy?” His voice was thick with sleep.
“Shh. Go back to sleep, baby.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
My throat tightened. “No. You were very brave. But next time, let me handle the grown-ups, okay?”
He nodded, already half-asleep. “Okay.”
I kissed his forehead. Then I sat in the chair by the window and watched over him until the sun rose.
The wolf was circling.
But the mother was watching.
At 7:00 AM, my phone buzzed.
Alexander: I found something. Come to the Vance office at 9. Alone. Or I come to Dalton.
I stared at the screen.
He didn’t know about Theo. Not yet. But he had found something. A thread. A trace. A piece of the puzzle.
I looked at Theo, still sleeping. Then I typed back:
Me: I’ll be there.
I didn’t have a choice.
The war had just entered its second day.
End of Chapter 6
- Writer
