Dominic's POV
My phone buzzed at exactly 6:47 PM.
I was pouring my third whiskey of the evening, trying to forget the way Nora had looked at me before she ran from my office. Trying to forget that I'd almost touched her. Almost told her the truth.
I picked up the phone without looking at the screen.
The photo loaded slowly—one agonizing pixel at a time.
Red lace. Smooth skin. Dark hair falling over bare shoulders.
Nora.
The whiskey glass slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor.
Nora Chen was standing in front of a mirror wearing red lingerie that should be illegal, taking a photo with a small smile on her face—confident and beautiful and completely devastating.
My brain short-circuited.
My body responded instantly, heat flooding through me like I'd been set on fire.
I stared at the screen, unable to look away, unable to breathe, unable to think about anything except that this was Nora. My Nora. The woman I'd been pushing away for two years was suddenly right there on my phone wearing almost nothing and looking like every fantasy I'd ever had.
The text message loaded beneath the photo: "Happy? I'm wearing your crazy gift. This is what I'm NOT wearing to tomorrow's office party LOL"
My crazy gift?
I read it three more times, confusion cutting through the lust fogging my brain.
This wasn't meant for me.
The realization should have made me delete it immediately. Should have made me pretend I never saw it. But my finger hovered over the delete button and refused to press it.
Because Nora looked happy in this photo. Playful. Free. Nothing like the stressed, careful woman who worked for me.
And I wanted to see that version of her every single day.
I was calling her before I could stop myself.
She answered on the fourth ring, breathing hard. "Mr. Kane, I am so sorry—"
"Stop." The word came out rougher than I intended. I was still staring at the photo. Still trying to remember how to form sentences. "Was that photo really meant for a friend? Or was it meant for someone else? A boyfriend maybe?"
Please say no. Please say there's no boyfriend. Please—
"A friend! Just my friend Jasmine." She was talking fast, panicked. "She sent me the—the outfit as a joke and wanted proof I tried it on. That's all. I swear."
Relief crashed through me so hard I had to sit down.
"You don't have a boyfriend." I needed to hear her say it.
"No, but—how do you know that?"
Because I'd made it my business to know everything about Nora Chen. Because I'd asked Owen to casually mention her in conversation with HR. Because I was obsessed and pathetic and apparently now a stalker.
"That photo wasn't meant for anyone but me, was it, bunny?"
The pet name slipped out before I could stop it. Where had that even come from?
"I don't—what—no!" She was stuttering now. "It was an accident!"
"Was it?" I stared at the photo again—her fourth time looking, who was counting? "Because you looked very intentional in that photo. Very... confident."
"I'm going to hang up now." Her voice shook. "And we're going to forget this ever happened. Goodnight, Mr. Kane."
"Nora—"
She hung up.
I sat there with my phone in my hand, whiskey soaking into my carpet, and had a full crisis.
Everything had changed. I couldn't pretend anymore. Couldn't keep pushing her away. That photo had destroyed every wall I'd built, and now all I could think about was calling her back and telling her the truth.
That I'd been in love with her since the day she'd walked into my office.
That the curse could go to hell.
That I wanted—
My phone lit up with a text from an unknown number.
"She's in real trouble, Kane. Not just eviction. Someone at your company is about to destroy her career with that photo. Check your email. Corporate account. Someone forwarded it."
My blood turned to ice.
I lunged for my laptop and opened my corporate email system—the one that let me see all internal company emails if I needed to.
There it was.
Sent from Nora's email address to Vivienne Cross twenty minutes ago.
Subject: "Nora Chen's True Colors."
The photo attached.
A message: "Thought you should see what your colleague does in her spare time. Happy holidays! —A Concerned Coworker"
Rage exploded through me like a bomb.
Someone had hacked Nora's email. Sent her private photo to the most vicious gossip in the entire company. By tomorrow morning, everyone at Kane Industries would see this photo. Nora would be humiliated. Destroyed.
Over my dead body.
I grabbed my phone and texted her: "Don't run from this. We both know something changed today."
Her response came immediately: "Nothing changed. I made a mistake. Please delete the photo."
"I can't delete it."
"Why not?"
Because I've already looked at it twelve times, and I'm planning to look at it twelve more.
"Because I've looked at it twelve times already, and I'm not done looking."
I sent it before I could chicken out.
Then: "Go to Winter's Wishes on Bleecker Street. 9 PM tonight. Bring your phone. Trust me."
"What? Why?"
"Because you need help, and I know someone who can help you. Just trust me this once."
I waited for her response, but nothing came.
The unknown number texted me again: "Good. You're both coming. But here's what you don't know yet—Vivienne isn't the real threat. Someone else is using her. Someone who wants to destroy Nora specifically. And they're not going to stop with one photo."
My hands clenched into fists.
"Who?" I typed back.
"Come to Winter's Wishes and find out. But Kane? Bring the red box. You're going to need it sooner than you think."
I stared at my locked desk drawer where the lingerie set waited—the one I'd bought three days ago on impulse from that weird antique shop. The one I'd planned to give Nora at tomorrow's party.
How did this person know about it?
Another text: "Oh, and one more thing. The photo Nora sent you? It's not the only one. Someone took pictures of her apartment from outside her window tonight. Got some very interesting shots while she was getting dressed. Those pictures will be all over the internet by morning unless you stop it."
Horror and fury warred in my chest.
Someone was watching Nora. Taking pictures through her window like a predator stalking prey.
I was already grabbing my coat and keys when the next message arrived:
"The person watching her? They're still outside her building right now. You have exactly fifteen minutes to get there before they leave. Your choice, Kane. Save her tonight, or watch her world burn tomorrow. Oh, and if you call the police? The photos go public immediately. This has to be you. Just you."
I ran for the elevator, phone pressed to my ear, dialing Owen.
"I need Nora Chen's home address. Right now. Don't ask questions."
"Dominic, what—"
"NOW, Owen!"
He rattled off the address—an apartment building in a bad neighborhood that made my chest tight. She lived there? Alone? In that area?
I should have known. Should have checked. Should have paid her more, given her better—
My phone buzzed one final time as I reached my car.
Unknown number: "By the way, Kane? The person watching her? You know them. And when you see who it is, you're going to realize this whole thing is much bigger than one photo. This is about your family. About the curse. About secrets your uncle never told you. Drive fast. Time's running out."
I floored the gas pedal and drove like the devil himself was chasing me.
Because maybe he was.
And maybe I'd been running from the wrong thing all along.