Chapter 4
LUC
The drive to Dominion takes fifteen minutes through afternoon traffic. The club is closed during daylight hours, but Margot's waiting for me at the private entrance when I arrive.
"Luc." She unlocks the door, gestures me inside. "How's Simone holding up?"
"About as well as expected." I follow her through the dimly lit hallway toward the private rooms. "Fighting protocols, testing boundaries, trying to negotiate terms she doesn't have leverage for."
Margot's smile is knowing. "Sounds like you've got your hands full."
"Nothing I can't handle." I pull out the technical equipment I brought for the sweep. "Rooms three, five and eight, right?"
"Yes." She leads me to the first room, unlocks the door with her master key. "These are the ones where Simone usually books sessions. Private, soundproofed, designed for discretion."
I step inside room three, scanning the layout. It's professionally equipped with suspension points, impact implements, and restraint furniture. Everything a serious player would need for extended scenes.
"Tell me about Simone's booking patterns for these rooms," I tell Margot. "How often? Which partners? Any regularity the stalker could have predicted?"
"She books private rooms frequently. Usually rooms three, five, or eight—she likes the larger spaces with more suspension points." Margot stops in the doorway while I start my sweep. "Almost always with Vincent. Occasionally solo sessions for rope practice."
"Predictable enough that someone watching the booking system could anticipate when she'd be here."
"Yes." Her expression tightens. "If they had access to member bookings."
"What about installation or repairs?" I check the ventilation grate first, find nothing. "Anyone coming in to work on fixtures or equipment?"
"We had HVAC maintenance about two months ago. He could have planted the cameras and simply waited until he had the footage he wanted." Her expression tightens. "Technician worked on the climate control system, had access to all the private rooms."
"I need his information." I move to the ceiling fixtures, testing for hidden cameras. "Employment records, background, how long he's been servicing the club."
"I'll pull the files." She watches me work. "Would that give him time to plant the cameras and collect footage before sending anything? Do you think it was him?"
"Whoever planted these cameras needed enough access and time to install them without raising suspicion.
" I find the first camera inside a decorative light fixture, small enough to miss on casual inspection but positioned for perfect angles on the suspension point.
"HVAC maintenance would provide that kind of access.
Makes him a person of interest we need to investigate. "
I photograph the camera in place before removing it, documenting everything for Andy's investigation.
I examine it carefully before extraction—sophisticated equipment, wireless transmission capability, compact professional-grade construction.
Not something a casual stalker would have access to.
This confirms our theory from the meeting.
"This wasn't amateur hour," I tell Margot. "Professional-grade surveillance equipment. Whoever planted this knew exactly what they were doing and had the technical knowledge to pull it off."
We move to room five, find another camera in the ventilation system. Room eight yields two more, both positioned for maximum coverage of the space. All professionally installed, all designed to avoid detection while documenting every intimate moment Simone spent in these rooms.
By the time I'm done, I've recovered five cameras and documented their locations. Enough evidence to narrow the suspect pool significantly.
"Your HVAC tech," I say as we lock up the last room. "When was he here exactly?"
Margot pulls up the records on her phone. "About two months ago. Two-day job, climate control upgrades throughout the facility."
"A couple days of unsupervised access to private rooms. That's our window for when the cameras could have been planted.
I need his full background—employment history, technical training, and any red flags.
And pull the member access logs for those same days.
We need to look at everyone who had opportunity. "
"Just regular member bookings." She scrolls through the logs. "I can pull the full list, cross-reference with members who have technical backgrounds."
"Do that." I head back toward the exit. "And Margot? Increase security on the private rooms. No maintenance access without you or Remy present. And I want updated entry logs sent to me daily until this threat is neutralized."
"Done." She walks me out to my vehicle. "Luc? Keep her safe. Simone's... she's complicated, but she doesn't deserve this."
"I know." I load the evidence into the SUV. "That's why I'm not letting anything happen to her."
The drive back to the estate takes longer than usual in rush hour traffic. I spend the time coordinating with Andy via phone, arranging for the cameras to be processed for forensic evidence. Fingerprints, serial numbers, anything that might identify the purchaser.
By the time I pull up to the guest house, the sun is starting to set. I check my phone before heading inside. No alerts from the security system, no messages from Simone indicating problems. The operative I posted sends a quick text:
All quiet. She's been working upstairs. No issues.
She followed the command this time. Stayed put like I ordered.
I dismiss the operative with a nod when I enter, and he heads out without a word. Simone's in the kitchen when I find her, tea steeping on the counter.
"Found five cameras." I set my equipment bag on the counter. "All professionally installed, all positioned for maximum coverage of your scenes. We're processing them for forensic evidence now."
Her face pales. "Five cameras?"
"Three rooms, multiple angles." I move to the coffee pot, needing the caffeine after hours of detailed technical work. "Whoever planted them had access, time, and technical knowledge. We're narrowing the suspect pool based on that criteria."
"You'll find them." It's not a question, but there's hope beneath the words. Like she needs to believe I can stop this before it escalates further.
"I'll find them. But it takes time, Simone. Investigation, evidence processing, eliminating suspects until we identify the right target. And while that's happening, you need to trust me enough to follow protocols that keep you safe."
"I stayed here." She sets down her tea. "Like you commanded. Followed your operative's instructions. Even when the walls started closing in again, I stayed."
"I know. And that took strength. Real strength, not the performance version. I see that." I pause. "And you followed protocols even with someone watching you. That matters."
The careful control cracks. Exhaustion shows in the tight lines around her eyes, and the fear she's been holding at bay all afternoon.
"I keep thinking about that email," she admits. "Tonight you sleep alone. Tomorrow you won't. Like they're planning something specific. Like they know exactly when they're coming for me."
"They're trying to destabilize you. Psychological warfare. Make you feel vulnerable and exposed. That's how stalkers operate when they're building toward physical action. They want you scared, isolated, convinced that no one can protect you."
"It's working." The admission comes out quiet. "I am scared."
"Being scared is normal." I reach out, tilt her chin up so she has to look at me. "Being scared doesn't mean you're powerless."
The pulse in her throat hammers visibly. Her pupils dilate slightly as I hold her gaze.
"I don't feel brave." She doesn't pull away from my touch. "I feel like I'm falling apart and barely holding it together."
"You're holding it together fine." My thumb brushes her jawline. "Handling video conferences, running your company, learning to follow protocols that go against every instinct you have. That's not falling apart."
"Is that what you call this?" But there's something else in her voice now. Less fear, more awareness of how close we're standing.
"That's what I call learning to trust someone else's control when your own control isn't enough." I drop my hand, step back before I close the distance entirely. "And you're doing better than you think."
My phone buzzes before she can respond. I pull it out, check the notification.
Email alert. Sent to Simone's account thirty seconds ago.
Subject line: Did you like your new cage?
I open the email, feel my jaw tighten at what I find. Another photograph, this one showing Simone through the guest house window last night. She's visible inside, standing in her room in her silk pajamas, completely unaware she's being watched.
The text overlay is new.
New cage. Same bird. I'll have you soon.
I show her the phone. The color drains from her face as she processes what this means.
"They were here." Her voice shakes. "Last night. Watching me through the window."
"They were watching the property. Looking for vulnerabilities, documenting your location, confirming you're here instead of at your penthouse."
"How did they know where I was?" Fear bleeds into her voice. "How did they find me so fast?"
"They've been watching you for weeks. They found you here within hours of your arrival—that takes resources and capability.
" I pull her away from the window, closing the blinds with sharp, controlled movements.
"They're telling you they found you. Psychological warfare.
And we're not giving them the satisfaction of seeing it work. "
"How can you be so calm?" She's shaking now, adrenaline and fear catching up to her. "Someone was outside this house last night watching me and you're talking about protocols like it's just another security problem."