I didn't sleep.
Not after that message.
Not after that photo—me, standing in the same hallway where I'd kissed Caleb goodnight, long before everything ended.
And now, that same hallway contained another image.
Me. With Rhyland.
Like I'd never learned.
Like I couldn't distinguish love from a lie.
The sun poured in through the penthouse windows as if nothing were different at all.
Something was.
Noah slept soundly, curled in a ball of blankets that made him look like a cinnamon roll with messy hair.
I sat on the kitchen counter, cradling a mug I'd not sipped out of in ten minutes.
"You okay?"
Rhyland's voice was soft.
I hadn't seen him come in.
I didn't look up. "Define okay."
"Not shaking would be a good place to start."
I blinked and looked at my hands.
Damn.
I set the mug on the counter.
He edged closer. "Caleb again?"
I slid my phone across the countertop.
He picked it up, clenching his jaw as he read.
His voice was low when he spoke. Steady. Fatal.
"He sent this last night?"
"Two a.m."
He set the phone on the counter as if it were a bomb.
"That was a picture years ago," I said. "I don't even recall it. But he kept it. Used it."
"Don't try to scare you anymore. He's trying to control your reality."
I nodded. "He's trying to make me doubt myself."
"You're not that girl anymore."
"Yes, sometimes it still feels like it."
He exhaled slowly through his nose, then did something that surprised me.
He pushed a chair beside me.
Sat down.
And grasped my hand.
I didn't pull it away.
His palm was warm. Strong. And not commanding.
"I have no idea what this is," I told him, finally raising my eyes to his. "Us. This situation. All of this facade. But you've treated me. Well. And that scares me more than Caleb does."
"Why?"
"Because I have no idea how to make myself believe it."
He nodded very slowly. "Then don't believe it. Just feel it."
That scared me even worse.
Later, after lunch and laundry and exactly three breakdowns I did not have, I was standing in front of Rhyland his office.
"I need a burner phone," I told him.
He looked up from his laptop. "Planning on committing murder or running from the country?"
"I need to keep Caleb from finding me. Breaking down my socials. Number change. Going full digital ghost."
"Cunning."
He stood up and crossed to the wall behind him, pulled open a drawer, and handed me an unopened phone.
"You keep burner phones around just to gather dust?"
"I date models," he said. "They lose things."
I took it, smiling despite myself being lost in my mind. "You're a disaster."
"And yet here we are."
I hesitated. "Thanks. For this. For not making me tell you everything."
"I don't need to know the history to want to keep you safe."
We glared at each other.
Too long.
Too soft.
To something.
I cleared my throat. "I'll be out of your hair soon."
"Why would I want that?"
I blinked. "Because you said this ends when the deal closes."
"Deals change."
"I don't."
"Then why do you keep looking at me like I'm not the villain you drew me to be?"
"Because maybe you're not."
We stood there in silence, the gap between us narrowing by the second.
And then;
The baby monitor crackled.
Noah whimpered.
The moment was broken.
I turned, relieved and annoyed both. "Saved by the kid."
He smiled. "He's got timing."
That night, Noah would not sleep.
He fussed and stirred, his little body too hot, then too cold, then just too everything.
I tried the lullabies. The rocking. The gentle singing that once quieted him when the world got too loud.
Nothing worked.
Lastly, I gave up and cuddled up next to him on the big couch in the living room, arms around his small body, muttering nonsense until his breathing stabilized.
I didn't see Rhyland come in.
But I felt him.
His voice was soft. "Do you want me to take over?"
"No. He's okay."
I felt him sit on the couch at the edge.
Felt the way his eyes lingered on me like I was something he was still figuring out.
"I used to believe needing someone was a weakness," he said. "That if someone needed you too much, you lost control."
I remained silent.
"But when I see him reach for you like that…" He shook his head. "It doesn't look like weakness. It looks like intention."
My heart cracked a little.
"That's all I've got," I said softly. "Being his purpose."
"Maybe it's time someone made you theirs."
I shifted to regard him.
And for the first time since this deception started, I wanted to believe that maybe it could be more.
Perhaps this wasn't just about the deal.
Perhaps the safety I was feeling with him wasn't borrowed—it was mine.
"Emery," he whispered, "I want to kiss you. Not for the cameras. Not for the plan. Just… because I do."
My breath stopped.
"I shouldn't."
"But you want to."
Silence.
"I do."
He leaned in.
His hand brushed my cheek. Slow. Gentle. Reverent.
I tilted my chin—
Noah coughed. Stirred.
And began to cry.
We both stopped
Then laughed. Quietly. Sadly.
I picked him up and held him tight. "That's the second time he's saved us."
Rhyland stood. "Third time's the charm?"
"Don't push your luck."
He stood in the doorway.
"Someday," he said. "I'm not going to stop."
And then he left me in the dark with a baby in my arms and a heartbeat I couldn't slow down.
The next morning, a manila envelope was dropped off at the front desk with my name on it.
Inside?
Photos.
Dozens of them.
Me. Noah. Rhyland. Outside the café. Inside the townhouse. On the balcony.
Everything is take
n from afar.
And at the bottom of the stack was a single note:
"Nice story you're selling. What happens when the truth comes out?" – C
I closed the envelope with shaking hands.
And this time, I didn't just feel scared.
I felt stalked.