The Warning
1362 Words
“Because I think someone just threatened you,” Adrian said.
For a second, I simply stared at him through the phone.
Then I looked down at the messages again.
Stop flirting with Adrian Vale.
You have no idea what kind of man he is.
Stay away from him.
My stomach tightened.
“How would you know that?” I asked.
There was a pause.
“Because you're looking at your phone like you just received a death sentence.”
I glanced through the glass wall of his office.
He was standing behind his desk, one hand resting against the edge, watching me.
Of course he was.
“How do you even know what I'm looking at?”
His mouth curved slightly.
“Come here, Elena.”
There was something about the way he said my name that made my heart beat faster.
Not louder.
Just… faster.
“I have work.”
“So do I.”
“Then why am I coming to your office?”
“Because I asked you to.”
I rolled my eyes.
“That isn't a reason.”
“It is when I'm the CEO.”
“That’s exactly why it isn't.”
For the first time, he laughed.
A real laugh.
Low and unexpectedly warm.
“Five minutes.”
“I don't like being ordered around.”
“I noticed.”
“Good.”
“I also noticed you still haven't come upstairs.”
I looked toward the elevator.
Then back at him.
Annoying man.
I grabbed my phone and walked toward his office.
The second I stepped through the glass doors, the atmosphere changed.
His office was enormous. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city, his desk was perfectly organized, and everything about the room screamed Adrian Vale.
Expensive.
Controlled.
Untouchable.
He closed his laptop.
“Sit.”
I remained standing.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Do you always ignore instructions?”
“Only yours.”
“That explains a lot.”
“What exactly is this about?”
His eyes dropped to the phone in my hand.
“The messages.”
I hesitated.
Then unlocked my phone and held it out.
He read them.
The amusement disappeared from his face.
Completely.
His jaw tightened.
“Did you receive these before today?” he asked.
“No.”
“Any calls?”
“No.”
“Anyone at work bothering you?”
“No.”
“Anyone outside work?”
I frowned.
“No.”
His eyes lifted to mine.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He stared at me for another second before taking my phone.
“Hey.”
“I'll give it back.”
“You better.”
He examined the messages again.
Then he turned the screen toward me.
“Don't respond.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“Don't delete them either.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever sent these wants a reaction.”
I folded my arms.
“And you know that because?”
“Because threats are rarely about what they say.”
He handed my phone back.
“They're about what they want you to do.”
I looked at him.
“And what do you think they want me to do?”
His gaze held mine.
“Stay away from me.”
Silence.
For some reason, hearing him say it made the room feel smaller.
I swallowed.
“Maybe I should.”
His expression changed.
Barely.
But I noticed.
“Maybe.”
I waited for him to say something else.
He didn't.
So I turned toward the door.
“Then I guess we're done.”
“Elena.”
I stopped.
He came around the desk.
He didn't walk toward me quickly.
He didn't need to.
Somehow, every step he took made me more aware of the distance between us.
He stopped a few feet away.
“I'm not asking you to stay away from me.”
My eyebrows lifted.
“You literally just said—”
“I said that's what they want.”
His voice was quieter now.
“And I don't like being told what to do either.”
Despite myself, I smiled.
“That's probably the first thing we agree on.”
His eyes dropped briefly to my lips.
Just for a second.
But I saw it.
And suddenly, I remembered the elevator.
His hand around my waist.
My hands against his chest.
The way he'd looked at me before the doors opened.
Heat crawled up my neck.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
“You're blushing.”
“No, I'm not.”
“You are.”
“The office is warm.”
He glanced at the thermostat.
“Twenty-one degrees.”
I glared at him.
“Do you enjoy annoying me?”
“More than I should.”
My heart stumbled.
For one dangerous second, neither of us moved.
Then his phone rang.
He looked away first.
The spell broke.
He answered the call, his expression immediately turning serious.
“Yes?”
I started toward the door.
Then I heard him say something that made me stop.
“No. Don't contact the police yet.”
I turned.
He was facing the windows.
His voice was low.
“Find out who sent it first.”
My stomach dropped.
He ended the call.
“What was that?” I asked.
He turned around.
“Nothing.”
“That didn't sound like nothing.”
“It was business.”
“About me?”
A pause.
“Possibly.”
That answer did absolutely nothing to calm me.
“What does that mean?”
He walked back toward his desk.
“It means I'll handle it.”
I laughed once, without humor.
“You don't even know me.”
His eyes met mine.
“I know enough.”
Something about those words unsettled me.
Before I could ask what he meant, there was a knock on the door.
His assistant stepped inside.
“Mr. Vale, I'm sorry to interrupt.”
Adrian nodded.
“What is it?”
She held out a tablet.
“We received something from security.”
His expression hardened.
“What?”
She glanced at me.
Then back at him.
“A still image from the elevator camera.”
My blood went cold.
“What about it?” I asked.
She hesitated.
“Someone accessed the footage this morning.”
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
“We're trying to determine that.”
He took the tablet from her.
I stepped closer.
“What footage?”
He didn't answer.
I looked at the screen.
And there we were.
Adrian and me.
Inside the elevator.
His hand around my waist.
My hands against his chest.
The exact moment we'd been caught between the floors.
My face burned.
But embarrassment lasted only a second.
Because beneath the photograph was a timestamp.
1:07 A.M.
I stared at it.
“That was yesterday morning.”
“I know.”
“No.”
I looked at Adrian.
“That can't be right.”
His expression was unreadable.
The elevator incident had happened during office hours.
The footage had been accessed at one in the morning.
Someone had watched us.
After everyone else had gone home.
Someone had specifically searched for that footage.
And suddenly, the anonymous messages didn't feel quite so random.
I looked at Adrian.
“Who would do that?”
He didn't answer.
His eyes remained fixed on the photograph.
Then my phone buzzed.
Once.
I looked down.
Whatever I saw made my face go cold.
“Elena?”
I didn't respond.
A new message.
No number.
No name.
Just one sentence.
You should have listened to the first warning.
My heart stopped.
Then another message appeared.
This one came with a photograph.
Not of Adrian.
Not of me.
Of my house.
My mother's house.
My blood ran cold.
Adrian stepped closer.
“What is it?”
I turned the phone toward him with trembling hands.
His eyes moved over the screen, then hardened.
“Do you recognize this place?” he asked.
I could barely breathe.
“It's my home.”
His eyes met mine.
“Then we have a much bigger problem.”
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