13. Grace
13
GRACE
T heo’s plan is ridiculous. Like, out-of-this-world ridiculous. But I can’t deny there’s a certain charm to it—if you can call baiting a stalker with a fake gala and a fake guest list "charming."
Still, I’m playing my part.
I glance down at the glittering gown I’m wearing, the shimmering silver fabric hugging my body like a second skin. It’s beautiful in that over-the-top Hollywood starlet way, but the fact that I’m only wearing it to be used as bait?
Less beautiful.
"Theo, this is insane," I murmur, standing by the window of the penthouse suite where we’ve been waiting.
Below, I can see flashes of security weaving through the crowd of ‘guests’ Theo hired to make this fake gala look real. Models, actors, and even some high-profile influencers who were more than happy to make an appearance for a fee.
It’s all smoke and mirrors, designed to make one deranged man think he has an opportunity.
“It’s going to work,” Theo says, his voice steady as ever—though I catch the tension in his jaw.
He’s been pacing for the last ten minutes, adjusting his cufflinks, glancing at his phone every few seconds.
“He’s been following your every move, Grace.
He’ll come.”
I shudder, a cold sensation crawling up my spine at the thought. I hate that this is our reality now, that I’ve had to depend on Theo for security and protection from a man I’ve never even seen.
But more than that, I hate that it’s getting to me. I don’t like feeling helpless or vulnerable.
And Theo? He’s not helping. He’s too calm. Too collected. Too in control . It drives me crazy how he seems to be able to compartmentalize everything, even when I know he’s just as on edge as I am.
"Can’t we just—" I start, but he cuts me off.
"No, we can’t just go back home and pretend like everything’s fine," he snaps, though it’s not harsh.
He sounds frustrated, and it’s not directed at me.
"Grace, we’ve been over this.
This guy needs to be stopped.
And if this is the way to catch him?—"
"—then we have to go through with it," I finish for him, sighing. "I know. I just… I feel like I’m in some sort of spy movie, except I don’t have any cool gadgets or martial arts skills."
He smirks, finally stopping his pacing. "You’ve got me. That’s better than gadgets."
I roll my eyes, though I can’t help the small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Sure. Because you’re so subtle."
He shrugs, adjusting his jacket. He looks sharp tonight in a tailored black suit and tie, every inch the intimidating, powerful man who’s made his fortune dominating boardrooms.
His hair is perfectly in place, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes when he finally looks at me, and it’s that flicker that keeps me grounded.
"Alright, Mr. Bond," I say, trying to inject some humor into the tension filling the room. "What’s the plan again?"
He steps closer, his brow furrowing. "You know the plan, Grace. We go down to the gala, make our rounds, let everyone see you, and then wait for him to make a move.
The security team is set up all around the venue. The moment he steps into the building, they’ll know."
"And then what? You tackle him to the ground like some action hero?" I ask, crossing my arms. "Or is that your security team’s job too?"
"I’m not tackling anyone in this suit," he replies with a straight face, but a twitch at the corner of his mouth betrays his amusement.
"But don’t worry, Grace. You’re not leaving my side tonight. Not for a second."
There it is again—that seriousness. The determination in his voice is both comforting and terrifying at the same time. He’s not joking. He means every word.
"I don’t like this," I admit softly, looking up at him. "I don’t like that you’re putting yourself in danger for me again."
His gaze softens. He just stands there, watching me like he’s trying to read my thoughts and figure out how to reassure me when the situation is anything but reassuring.
Finally, he steps closer, closing the gap between us, his voice low and deliberate.
"I’d rather be in danger with you than know you’re out there without me," he says.
His words give me goosebumps, and the air between us shifts. Suddenly, the room feels too small, too quiet, and I realize just how close we are standing. I swallow hard, my throat dry.
Can we skip all this hullabaloo and just stay here so that he can ravage me for infinity?
"You’re serious, aren’t you?" I whisper, my voice barely audible.
He doesn’t flinch. He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear with a tenderness that catches me off guard. "I’ve never been more serious in my life."
The way he’s looking at me—it’s intense. Like he’s trying to tell me something more, something he can’t quite put into words. My heart pounds in my chest, and before I can stop myself, I find myself leaning into him, just slightly, just enough to feel the heat of his body.
There’s a beat of silence. And then, without warning, his lips are on mine.
His hands slide to my waist, pulling me closer. I feel myself melting into him, my arms wrapping around his neck as the kiss becomes more desperate and charged.
I’ve kissed men before. I’ve been in love before, but this—this feels different.
It’s like we’re both aware of the chaos around us, aware of the fact that we’re standing on the edge of something dangerous, and yet, in this moment, none of that matters.
All that matters is him and me and this electric connection between us that neither of us can deny anymore
He pulls back first, his forehead resting against mine as we both catch our breath. His hands are still on my waist, holding me like he’s afraid to let go.
"Grace," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I…"
But before he can finish, there’s a knock at the door.
We both jerk apart, the spell between us broken as he turns toward the door. "Come in."
One of the security team members steps in, looking professional but tense. "Sir, it’s time. Everything is ready downstairs."
Theo nods, all business again, though I can see how his jaw clenches, the lingering tension in his body from the kiss we just shared.
"Thank you. We’ll be down in a minute."
As the guard leaves, Theo turns back to me, his expression conflicted. He doesn’t say anything, but I can see the unspoken words in his eyes. This—whatever this is between us—it’s not over. Not by a long shot.
But now isn’t the time to talk about it.
"Ready?" he asks, his voice steady, though there’s a trace of something softer beneath the surface.
I nod, though my heart is still racing. "As ready as I’ll ever be."
The gala is a spectacle. Glittering chandeliers, champagne glasses clinking, women in gowns that cost more than my rent for a year. Everything is perfect, meticulously planned.
And yet, it’s all fake. Every smile, every conversation—it’s all staged for one man.
Theo keeps his promise, staying by my side the entire time. We move through the room, mingling with the hired ‘guests,’ keeping up appearances.
But I can feel his hand on my lower back, his thumb brushing against the fabric of my dress in a way that makes my skin tingle.
I can’t stop thinking about the kiss. It’s like it’s seared into my brain, replaying over and over again, making it impossible to focus on anything else.
And every time Theo glances at me, every time his hand lingers on my waist just a little too long, I know he’s thinking about it, too.
An hour in, I’m starting to feel the strain of it all. The anticipation, the nerves. The waiting.
"How long do you think it’ll take him to show?" I ask Theo quietly as we stand near the bar, watching the crowd.
He shakes his head. "I don’t know. But he will."
I want to believe him, but the longer we wait, the more the tension in my body builds. I can feel the eyes of the security team on us, and I can feel the weight of it all pressing down on my shoulders.
Suddenly, there’s a commotion near the entrance—a few gasps, murmurs, and then the unmistakable sound of someone being restrained.
My heart leaps into my throat, and I turn toward the noise, my breath catching as I see a man being dragged out by two security guards.
"Is that?—?"
"It’s him," Theo says, his voice grim. "They’ve got him."
Relief floods through me, but it’s quickly followed by a surge of adrenaline. It’s over. It’s finally over. I turn to Theo, my eyes wide, and before I can think twice, I throw my arms around him, hugging him tightly.
Surprised by the sudden gesture, he stiffens at first, but then he relaxes, his arms wrapping around me in return. We stand there holding onto each other as the chaos swirls around us, and for the first time in weeks, I feel… safe.
"I told you it would work," he murmurs against my hair, his voice laced with amusement.
I pull back just enough to look up at him, my heart still pounding. "I guess you were right."
Looking into his eyes, it feels like the rest of the world is fading away. There’s no stalker, no fake gala, no security teams or flashing cameras.
There’s just us, standing here, caught in this strange, electric connection that neither of us can ignore anymore.
Before I can second-guess myself, I lean in and kiss him again. His lips are warm and inviting, fitting perfectly against mine in a way that feels like fate.
The chaos of the gala fades into the background as we lose ourselves in each other.
For a moment, it's just the two of us, connected in a way that transcends words.
But all too soon, reality comes crashing back in. A loud noise interrupts our stolen moment. With a heavy heart, I pull away, my eyes searching his for understanding.
"We need to go," he says softly. “But we’re going to continue this in private.”
Is that a promise?
He links his fingers with mine just as Tad and a security guard rush up to us. Tad puts his hand on the small of my back, his body shielding me from anyone who could come toward us.
“We got him. We need to get you both upstairs out of the chaos before the paparazzi get here,” Tad says quickly.
“Are you sure it’s him?” I ask.
“It’s him. He’s in handcuffs now.”
“I want to see him, to know he is.”
“Not a chance in Hell,” Theo growls.
“But…”
“Absolutely not. We’re not risking you getting too close. It’s not worth it,” Tad interjects.
We’re out of the room and in an elevator before I can say anything else. Tad is shielding me in such a way that I can’t even turn to look around and see if I recognize my stalker.
I get it, but it’s still irritating.
Theo’s pacing in the living room of the penthouse suite feels like the ticking of a bomb, each step heavier than the last. I can’t remember the last time I saw him this agitated—actually, no.
I take that back. I’ve never seen him this on edge. He’s barely said a word to me since we got back up here.
Devon and Tad took my phone. Told us that they didn’t want us anywhere near social media until the man was apprehended and locked away.
I try to focus on the television, mindlessly channel surfing to calm my nerves, but it’s no use.
“I’m starving. Can we order room service?” I ask.
The security guard at the door shakes his head.
“I didn’t get to eat,” I pout.
I don’t know if I’d be able to eat anyway, but I think I think it’s a nice distraction.
There’s a knot in my stomach that refuses to untangle itself. The man we caught—the one who security dragged out in handcuffs—it should’ve been over. We should be celebrating, right?
But something doesn’t feel right.
There’s a tension in the air that I can’t shake. Theo hasn’t talked about it, but I know he’s feeling the same thing.
I can tell by how he keeps glancing at the room phone like he’s waiting for it to explode, the tightness in his jaw that never seems to ease.
We’ve been up here for hours; they should have told us something by now. It should all be over, right?
Did they go old school and are torturing him before they remove him from the premises?
I shake my head and try to get rid of the thought as I picture Devon as Bruce Willis while he’s waterboarding some dirty criminal.
I chuckle to myself before letting out a long breath.
“Is there tea, at least?” I murmur.
I get up from the couch and make my way to the tiny kitchen, hoping a cup of tea will soothe me at least a little. I glance back at Theo.
He’s standing by the window, his hand in his pocket, staring out over the city with a clenched jaw. The whole thing just feels… off.
The security guard is directly in front of the door, hands clasped in front of him as if he’s protecting the president and not little old me.
At least he takes his job seriously.
Score! There’s tea.
Thank goodness the hotel left a little complimentary basket in the room. It’s a lifesaver right now.
It’s not that I like tea particularly or that I even want it. The act of making it is what I need. A distraction in the details so that I can think of anything other than the crazy dramatic things that are slamming through my brain.
The kettle starts to whistle, cutting through the silence, but the security guard's phone rings before I can pour the water.
We all stiffen immediately. Theo rushes over to him. The security guard’s hand takes his phone out of his pocket.
"Tad," he mutters, his voice low and controlled.
He presses the phone to his ear, and I watch as the muscles in his back tense even further.
I abandon the tea and walk toward him, my heart beating faster as I listen in, trying to make sense of the one-sided conversation. The security guard hands the phone to Theo.
"What do you mean, it wasn’t him?" Theo’s voice drops, and the way he says those words makes it feel like the floor just disappeared from under me.
I freeze.
Wasn’t him?
Theo’s eyes darken, and he turns away from the window, pacing back toward me without even realizing it. "Explain," he snaps into the phone.
I step closer, every nerve in my body on high alert. I can hear a faint voice on the other end of the line but can’t make out the words. Whatever Tad is telling him, it’s not good.
"The jacket?" Theo’s voice cracks, and I can see the rage building behind his usually controlled exterior. "What the hell are you talking about?"
I move in closer, reaching out to touch his arm. He flinches but doesn’t pull away. His eyes lock on mine for a brief second, and in that look, I can see everything—anger, frustration, disbelief.
And fear.
His hand tightens around the phone, his knuckles white. "Are you telling me we’ve been duped? That the man we caught—he’s not the stalker?"
There’s a long pause, and I watch as Theo’s expression twists with fury. His whole body is rigid, like he’s barely holding himself together.
"Paid him?" His voice is a low growl now.
"So, you’re telling me this bastard paid some lowlife to wear his damn jacket so he could slip through security while we were distracted with the decoy?"
I cover my mouth, trying to hold back a gasp. My stomach turns. The room feels like it’s spinning.
How did he know?
It wasn’t him. It wasn’t the stalker. We didn’t catch him at all.
I’m still in danger.
Theo takes a sharp breath, trying to regain some semblance of control. But his voice shakes when he speaks again.
"Where is he now? Do we have any leads on where the real guy is?"
There’s another long pause, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. I can’t hear what Tad is saying, but it can’t be good.
Theo’s expression darkens even further, his grip tightening on the phone as if he might crush it in his hand.
"Find him," Theo growls. "I don’t care what it takes, Tad. I want this guy found."
He ends the call with a sharp tap on the screen and throws the phone down on the table so hard it bounces. The sound echoes through the room, loud in the oppressive silence that follows.
I stand frozen, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind racing to process what I just heard. Theo looks at me, and for a second, I see something in his eyes that I’ve never seen before.
Helplessness.
But it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by that simmering anger he’s so good at containing.
“He got away,” Theo says, his voice rough.
“The man they caught—it’s just a paparazzo. Some scumbag the real stalker paid to show up in his place.
All so he could slip away unnoticed while we were too busy celebrating a victory that wasn’t even real.”
I stare at him, my throat tightening with fear. "So… he’s still out there. Watching. Waiting."
Theo nods, his jaw clenched so tightly I’m afraid he might break a tooth. "And now we have no idea where he is."
“How did he know it was all a setup?” I whisper, my hands shaking as I go back to the kitchen and grab a dish towel off the counter.
“He might not have really known. Guys like this are paranoid so they will sus out everything they can beforehand. It may have just been a lucky guess for him,” the security guard interjects.
“I’ve hired the best of the best. There’s no way that there’s a mole amongst our ranks.”
“But all the actors and…”
“There’s no way,” the security guard answers. “He couldn’t have known what we were doing. It’s got to be just dumb luck, paranoid luck on his part.”
I’m not convinced.
I don’t know what or who to believe anymore. None of this seems real.
All the relief I felt and the hope that this nightmare was finally over is gone. Replaced by an icy fear that settles deep in my bones.
"What do we do now?" I ask, my voice small, barely a whisper.
Theo runs a hand through his hair, looking more frustrated than I’ve ever seen him. He’s usually so composed, so in control. But right now? Right now, he looks like a man on the edge.
"I’ll tell you what we’re going to do," he says, his voice tight with barely contained fury. "We’re going to find this son of a bitch. And when we do, he’s going to wish he’d never laid eyes on you."
I shiver at the cold, hard edge of his words. He’s been protective of me, but this—this is different. This is personal now. The stalker has crossed a line, and I can see it in Theo’s eyes—he won’t rest until this guy is caught.
But I can’t help the nagging thought that creeps into my mind.
What if we never find him? What if he’s always out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike?
I shake my head, trying to push the fear away. I can’t let myself think like that. Not now. Not when things are already so uncertain.
"Grace, I swear to you, I won’t let anything happen to you. But you have to trust me. You have to trust that I’ll handle this."
"I do trust you," I say, and I mean it. I’ve never trusted anyone more than I trust Theo. "But… I’m scared."
He reaches out, pulling me into his arms in one swift motion. His embrace is strong, comforting, and I let myself melt into him, burying my face in his chest.
His hand comes up to stroke my hair, and I can feel the tension in his body slowly starting to fade.
I hear the door open and close as the security guard gives us some space.
"I know," he murmurs against my hair. "I know you are. But we’ll figure this out. I promise."
We stand like that for what feels like hours, wrapped up in each other as the reality of the situation sinks in.
I can feel Theo’s heartbeat against my cheek, steady and strong, and it gives me the slightest bit of comfort in the storm of chaos swirling around us.
But then reality creeps back in. The stalker is still out there, and we have no idea where he is or what his next move will be.
"What do we do now?" I ask again, pulling back just enough to look up at him.
Theo’s eyes are dark, filled with a determination that both reassures and terrifies me. "We double down. More security. More surveillance. And we stay together, always."
There’s a possessiveness in his voice, an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.
It’s not that I don’t want to stay with him—I do—but there’s something about how he says it that makes my heart race for reasons I can’t quite explain.
"Always?" I repeat, my voice barely a whisper.
His thumb brushes softly over my skin, and I feel that electric tension building between us again. The same tension that’s been simmering under the surface for weeks.
The same tension that’s been there since that kiss.
I swallow hard, my pulse quickening as I meet his gaze. There’s something in his eyes, something raw and unguarded, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s feeling the same pull that I am.
"Theo," I breathe, my voice shaky.
But before I can say anything else, his lips are on mine.
The kiss is fierce, almost desperate, like he’s trying to pour all his frustration, anger, and fear into it.
And I respond with just as much intensity, gripping the front of his shirt as I kiss him back, all thoughts of the stalker, of the danger, of everything melting away until there’s only him.
I need him to fuck me until I can’t think about anything else.