10
The talk with Aurora put me in a place that is pushing me to be a better person. She doesn’t want me around her, and I understand. I will give her the space.
When I was watering my plants a few days ago, I felt the piercing gaze of my stalker, but the fear wasn’t there anymore. If he comes to me again, I’m going to demand answers. I’m ready to take him on, because for how much longer will I suffer? The answer is, I won’t anymore.
Why me?
For all these months, why me?
What is it about me that keeps him coming back, day after day?
What is his motivation?
So, when the heat crept from my back to my neck, I dropped everything and finally opened my bedside drawer and ripped open the rolled piece of paper he left a few nights ago.
Men who touch you will meet the same fate as Mr fucking Darci. This time, my bullet won’t miss him by an inch. Be careful of who you allow to touch my obsession. It’s not a pretty obsession. I will come to collect, to mark, and I will keep my promise of tasting my personal hell on earth.
It confirmed that the death of Darci’s best friend wasn’t simply an unfortunate car crash.
I worked up the courage to finally text my stalker.
Ambrose: You killed him?
The reply comes two minutes later.
Unknown:Yes.
I suck in a sharp breath at his unapologetic, one-word answer.
The headlines the next morning were all about the car crash. There were also pictures of Darci, his best friend, and me together at the event. I stayed in my office and went out the back entrance when I saw the rush of paparazzi in front of the office building.
My security footage is proof enough I was home, so they let me go easily. Today, I am more determined than ever to search through Helia’s office when he goes out for lunch. He asked me to book a reservation at a restaurant for two. He’s meeting with Remo Cainn. He didn’t invite me, and I didn’t protest, too set on trying to find documents of any kind to support my reinstatement as CEO. Anything to help me get back my rightful company.
“I’m heading to lunch. Make sure you prepare for the board meeting tomorrow and email me all notes and what importance each board member has. I don’t mean basic details; I mean, a good background check on them. And that new magazine volume being published for next month? I want further details and a final prototype before it’s sent for mass printing. It’s a spring edition, so make sure all the models we need are able to come. I want the location to be on a yacht on the Thames on a sunny day.”
I note down everything Helia tells me on my iPad while he grabs his things.
As I look up, Helia walks past me. His shoulder brushes against mine, stealing my breath. I catch his glance at my lips, and the intensity in his eyes almost knocks me off my feet.
We still bicker, still disagree on many things. I used to manage most of Glamorous, so when he makes a decision I don’t like, I voice my opinion. It often turns into a shouting match until I have to force myself to walk away and let him be.
Despite the tension between us, there are many instances where I believe Helia has touched my hand on purpose. Other times, he looks at me a second longer than necessary. Sometimes when I am writing something, I feel the tingles of awareness of his heavy looks.
Maybe it’s just my imagination. But the racing beat of my heart, the shivers down my spine, the flutters in my stomach every time that brush of skin contact happens… How do I explain that?
The door shuts behind me.
The splatter of rain is soft against the floor to ceiling window to my left.
The only noise in the room is the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. I wait for five minutes at the least, making sure he doesn’t come back, before I place my iPad on the table and rush to open the drawers.
There are files of the takeover, of the shares being handed to Helia. All these documents are public, so it’s of no use to me. The second drawer holds copies of past magazine volumes. The third one is empty except for a small paperclip.
I search the left side of the table, but there is nothing in the drawers, leaving me frustrated. The shelf on the left wall displays every single volume Glamorous has ever published.
“Could there even be incriminating paperwork in here? He wouldn’t leave it here, would he?” I run a hand through my hair, trying to work out where it could be. I can’t go to his home, but maybe Remo has something.
I can’t go to Remo’s office to ask him.
Then I remember a hiding spot Dad had.
Peeking under the table, I find it. Pulling out a stack of papers, I quickly flick through it. It’s a list of the finance team. Their names, addresses, previous jobs, and resumes. I peruse the five profiles. I could look them up, but why did Helia change the whole finance team?
Taking out my phone, I take pictures of each team member before placing the paperwork back the way it was under the table, then I head out.
Once seated at my own desk, I use my personal laptop and search for the names online. Each one comes up blank. I search again, adding the keyword Glamorous, and still nothing. There is nothing on them, not the job search websites, nor the search engines for jobs. For them to be in such a high position in Glamorous, they should have a professional profile, but they don’t.
I let my head hang back against the chair, watching the light above me.
Is that how Helia works?
Just like the light flares out, covering every corner of the room, Helia might be doing the same. His touch and connections flaring out to cover every corner of what he owns. All this so he is aware of what is going on at all times.
I snap up, then search Helia Nashwood. I find pictures from the conference, and after some scrolling, I spot a picture of him walking behind Aurora a few months ago just outside her office building. She is frowning, looking down at the ground, while he walks behind her, looking around as if guarding her.
What kind of mystery are you, Helia?
Just the mere sight of his pictures has me squirming in my chair. Something a lot like discomfort mixed with irritation swims inside me. Why do his pictures make my heart race?
Scrolling up, I find a particular picture of him holding a mic and looking at the audience. There’s a smirk on his face, and his eyes twinkle with wicked intention.
I can feel the power of his eyes, the hypnotic skill he has to capture everyone in the audience under his spell, keeping them hooked enough to get what he wants from them.
That vicious look in his serpent eyes is enough to make the audience squirm in fear, the sharpness of his facial structure setting him apart as a man with charisma and a good-looking face. Helia isn’t the typical handsome man. He has this devious look to him that can only be described as Helia being a killer in a room full of sinners.
A grim reaper.
Every time I look at him, when my eyes connect with his, my skin tingles in awareness, telling me danger is close by. My instincts know that Helia is the epitome of a devil. And yet, my stomach doesn’t hesitate to twist in his presence, to make me feel emotions that should absolutely never be felt for my nemesis.
I type Remo Cainn in the search bar, and pictures come up from his campaigns, the wine empire he has, and many are of his wedding with Aurora. I keep scrolling and scrolling, ready to give up until I find one of him standing outside my house.
Outside the Torre mansion with me in front of him.
I notice something in the corner of the picture. Right to the left of our house.
It’s a hooded figure.
The same figure that reminds me of my stalker.
And my heart drops to my feet.