FORTY-SIX
STEPHANIE
Sometimes we have to be brave for those with less strength than ourselves.
I feel like a super spy with the discreet listening device tucked into place and concealed by my mass of curls.
The trackers are split between the inside of my bra, my clutch, and the lace on the top of my stockings.
What’s the worst that happens? Christopher realizes that I’m trying to fuck his world up?
Sure, but I’m in a crowded room, and he’s already been hunting me.
He just doesn’t realize the prey has turned the tables, and he won’t until it’s too late.
I won’t live scared anymore. It’s barely surviving.
Honor walks me into the ballroom, and I scan the area which looks so similar to where it all began, with an odd conversation with a man on the patio. I didn’t know it then, but that was the moment Christopher chose me.
It’s grand and expensive, filled with those same types of people who’ve never had to lift a finger.
I remember that world, know it like the back of my hand, and it all feels so wrong.
Evil creeps below the surface, and people are either too distracted by their own lives to notice or willfully ignoring it.
Either way, it tells you everything you need to know about what kind of people the rich and powerful really are.
A live band plays music in the background, and partygoers mingle and gorge on thousand-dollar hors d’oeuvres and champagne.
Honor’s presence next to me is a comfort, but I know it can’t last. Christopher won’t make his move unless I’m alone. Right on cue, Honor stops near a quiet corner of the room. “Alright, I’m going to leave you to it. But I’ll be nearby, and we’re all keeping an eye on you. You’ve got this.”
I nod, smile, and wave my hand at her as if we’re having a normal conversation and I’m shooing her off. “I’ve got this. Thank you.”
Honor leaves. This is really happening. I blow out a breath, forcing down the rising panic at the way the hairs on my nape prickle with awareness. Someone’s watching me. Focus, Stephanie.
“Sweetheart, I’m right here with you.” James’s voice is like a soothing balm to my nerves, and I let it bolster me, giving me strength.
I accept a glass of champagne from a passing server who winks at me and taps his ear.
I’m not alone. I straighten my shoulders and sweep my gaze across the room, already knowing who I’ll lock eyes with.
Christopher raises his crystal glass full of amber liquid in my direction, and in that one look, I read my future misery and eventual death.
That right there is why I’m doing what I’m doing. He needs to be stopped. No more women. No more victims. I’m not an idiot; I know I can’t rid the world of all its scum, but I’ll damn well do my part by not shying away when the opportunity to make a difference presents itself.
Now, I need to appear strong but pliable. He enjoys taking a woman in her prime and destroying her piece by piece until there is only him. I wish I had the time to spare to give it right back to him, but I’ll have to settle for him facing the charges he should have eons ago.
The evidence collected tonight needs to be irrefutable, and the victims strong enough to give the testimony needed to bring him down.
Therein lies the problem in our plan—the variable we can’t control.
If we mishandle it, he’ll walk away free, and he’ll rightly believe he can get away with literal murder.
I remember there’s a glass of champagne in my hand after I’ve stood still for a hair too long.
Sipping it, I shut down any ounce of nervousness that won’t help me right now.
I channel the reserve I have inside me, the one honed by everything I went through.
I turn away from Christoper, letting him get an eyeful of my back.
I won’t be scared of him. If he wants to sneak up and make a move, that’ll just play right into our hands.
Putting my arm across my chest so that I can rest the opposite elbow on it, I walk around this side of the room, looking at everything Honor and her team painstakingly set up in this grand space, immediately sensing someone closing the distance behind me.
I’m not about to make this easy for Christopher, though. One, that wouldn’t look very believable, and two, I enjoy jerking his chain a little.
I finish the flute of champagne and look around for another server. In doing so, I catch a glimpse of Christopher. He’s much closer now, and I realize that in finding someone with a fresh tray of drinks, I’ve wandered closer to the employee back room, a place no one else is hanging out.
No sooner do I have my drink and the server is gone again, than I hear the click of high-end loafers steadily approaching me. I keep my back to where I last saw Christopher, and James’s voice rumbles through the earpiece.
“Stephanie, he—”
The next thing I know, Christopher is standing in front of me, nonchalant as ever, champagne in hand. I swallow hard, hearing James curse.
“Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”
My stomach does somersaults despite the fact that I knew he was coming. Shivers rush down my spine, and I have to forcibly keep myself still, my expression neutral.
“Do I know you?” I snark, trying to get under his skin.
“Don’t rile him up, Stephanie. An angry Christopher is a dangerous one.” I can’t reply to James to remind him that he’s always dangerous. So instead, I just smile.
“Now, now.” Christopher steps closer, using his size and body language as an unspoken form of intimidation. “There’s no need to be rude, especially when I know you’re lying. I know you went into hiding, Stephanie. And why would you do that if it wasn’t about little old me, hmm?”
I don’t say a word, not giving him anything to use against me, the trackers burning a hole in my proverbial pocket. I scan his attire, looking for a good place to put one, knowing I can reach inside my clutch for my lipstick as a cover.
“Why the sudden change of heart, Steph? Why come out now?”
I hate how he uses that nickname, the sound making nausea grip my stomach. “It was time, wasn’t it? I’m done receiving threatening flowers from strangers and insincere apologies for what you’ve done and are yet to do.”
“Stephanie,” James warns, but I’m following my gut tonight, and he just needs to be ready.
“The calla lilies were beautiful, weren’t they?” Christopher grins, but it’s more like showing his teeth, nothing mirthful behind it. “I had to admire the creativity of your previous ‘admirer.’”
My heart kicks against my sternum, the nausea doubling down. I knew. Of course, I knew where he’d gotten the inspiration. But it’s something else to hear it coming out of his sick mouth.
“It must be so wonderful to get such nice gifts every week, with such sweet messages.”
Yeah, flowers with notes threatening my life are just the best.
Tension rings through my spine, making my blood pump loudly in my ears. I want this over. I walk over to a nearby standing table and set down my champagne. I reach into my clutch, wrapping my fingers around my lipstick—and the tracker.
My eyes are only off Christopher for a moment, but when I look up, I notice the cold glee he tries to hide behind stoicism and the fizzing bubbles in my glass.
He drugged it, and I can’t let him realize I know.
I keep my expression neutral, taking the cap off my lipstick and bringing it up to my mouth.
The tracker is still pressed between my thumb and the tube, but Christopher is on the other side of the table. I can’t get to him.
“He put something in your drink,” James growls, and I can feel how badly he wants to get to me. “Don’t drink that.”
Christopher picks up the glass and slides it toward me, waiting for me to take it, preventing me from putting on the lipstick. “Such a brave girl, aren’t you? Cheers, then, to the future.”
I take the glass while he lifts his, every instinct inside me screaming. I can barely hear the volume of the room over it.
“Stephanie, don’t fucking drink that.” James sounds so insistent, so worried.
“To the future.” I clink my glass against Christopher’s, the tracker in my other hand.
I have no choice. There’s no clean way out of this that ends in his capture, and I always knew it.
I can’t risk the other victims, and the fact that they’re being hurt because I was hiding is unacceptable.
I won’t let him hurt anyone else ever again.
“Stephanie!” James is so loud I worry Christopher will hear it, and then I put the glass to my lips and down the entire thing. He needs to think he’s won. He needs to be vulnerable, and this is how we accomplish that.
After setting the empty flute down, I apply my lipstick, touching up the color just as I’d planned to, and as I smooth the stick over my top lip, I drop the tracker in my mouth, swallowing it down. If Christopher searches me or takes my clothes, he won’t find that one.
“What the hell did you do? Are you out of your mind?” James yells through the earpiece, his voice distorting toward the end.
The drugs work quickly, and I find my head spinning after only a few seconds.
I try to fight it on instinct, hating the feeling of being so out of control. It’s like being drunk but way worse.
After a few moments, with James’s barking orders fading away, I start to lose my balance, and I have to grip the table to keep standing.
“Oh, dear. Are you alright? You poor thing.” Christopher rounds the table, scooping his arm under mine, and I can’t help but lean on him. “Let’s get you some fresh air.”
The world becomes a blur as he guides me, my feet carrying me forward even though I know I shouldn’t be going anywhere with this man.
He tugs me toward a door at the back of the room.
I can barely keep my eyes open now, my gaze dropping to the floor to watch my feet moving across the shiny tiles, unable to stop them.
I’m clumsy and tripping over myself, forcing Christopher to manhandle me all the more.
We go through the door, navigating through corridors I’ve never been in.
Reality twists and warps, my eyelids straining to remain open for more than a moment.
Each blink stretches longer, my mind struggling to make sense of what’s happening.
After an indeterminate amount of time, we’re outside.
We walk toward a line of cars parked along the back of the building, and Christopher lifts his hand, holding up a key fob to unlock one of the vehicles.
He drops me into a seat, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
My body doesn’t respond as I fight to remain conscious.
Christopher walks around to the other side of the car, ready to get in the driver’s seat and take off. The last thing I can manage to do is whisper into the earpiece, my voice scratchy and weak. “Find me,” is all I say, knowing James will do everything in his power to do just that.
I pull the earpiece out and drop it into one of the crevices between my seat and the center console, knowing Christopher won’t find it there. When he sits down and fires up the engine, the world slowly disappears as my eyes shut, unable to force them back open this time.