Chapter 18 Morgan #3
“We could swing by tonight.” Archer suggested before continuing, “If you want, you could pack a bag, stay here, and we could head out in the morning.”
The casualness of the suggestion—pack a bag, stay over—shouldn’t have affected her so strongly. Yet Morgan found herself momentarily speechless at the implications. This wasn’t just about Sunday’s ride; it was about taking another step forward in whatever was developing between them.
“That would be... convenient,” she said finally, aiming for nonchalance despite the flutter in her chest.
Archer tilted his helmet slightly. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes,” Morgan clarified, smiling. “Though I should warn you, I sometimes snore.”
“I think I can handle it,” he replied, the warmth in his voice making her wish, not for the first time, that she could see his expression.
Their dinner arrived as the sun began its descent toward the horizon.
They ate on the rooftop terrace as planned, watching the sky transform through a spectacular palette of oranges, pinks, and purples.
The conversation flowed easily between them, touching on books they’d both read, places they hoped to visit someday, childhood memories that had shaped them.
“I never asked,” Morgan said as they lingered over dessert, “what do your friends think about... our arrangement?”
“You mean the helmet situation with you?” Archer clarified. “They understand why I’ve made the decision to remain anonymous while out riding with them, and since that’s how we met, it’s created complications that I’m still working towards opening up about.”
“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing them again,” she said sincerely. “They made me feel welcome last time, despite the strangeness of the situation.”
“They like you,” Archer replied. “Especially Viper, though he’d never admit it. It takes a lot to impress him.”
“The fashion designer?” Morgan asked, remembering the gloved man who’d sized her for riding gear with a single glance.
“Yes. He’s very... particular about who he spends time with.”
Morgan felt oddly touched by this information. Being accepted by Archer’s friends—especially the apparently discerning Viper—meant more than she would have expected.
After a dinner that had magically appeared in the refrigerator for them to heat and eat, they cleaned up together in comfortable silence, moving around each other in the kitchen with surprising coordination given how little time they’d spent in each other’s space.
When the last dish was put away, Archer turned to her.
“Ready to grab your things?”
Morgan nodded. “Let me just freshen up first.”
Twenty minutes later, they were in Archer’s car—a sleek black Audi that complemented his mysterious aesthetic. The familiar streets looking somehow different from the passenger seat of his luxury vehicle.
“I won’t be long,” she promised as he pulled outside her building. “I just need to grab my riding gear and a change of clothes.”
“Take your time,” Archer replied. “I’ll be here.”
Morgan hesitated, glancing at his helmeted form. “Are you sure you don’t want to come up?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to come up Morgan. It’s better if I wait here,” he said, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “If I come up, I might get distracted by the way you look gathering your things, and we’d end up in your bed instead of making it back to my place.”
A flush of heat rose to Morgan’s cheeks at his directness. “That doesn’t sound like a bad alternative,” she teased.
“Trust me,” Archer said, his voice low and rich even through the helmet’s modulator, “I’ve been thinking about having you in my bed again all day. I’d prefer not to delay that any longer than necessary.”
The intensity in his voice sent a delicious shiver down her spine. “I’ll be quick,” she promised, suddenly eager to return to his penthouse and the intimacy it offered.
Morgan headed inside, waving to Tony at the evening security desk as she passed. The familiar routine of unlocking her door and stepping into her apartment felt strange after the opulence of Archer’s penthouse, yet comforting in its familiarity.
The comfort evaporated instantly as the door swung open.
Her apartment was in disarray—it wasn’t that drawers were overturned and everything was a mess, but everything was disturbed enough to be immediately apparent. Books had been pulled from shelves, couch cushions moved slightly out of alignment, the drawer of her entry table left partially open.
Morgan froze in the doorway, heart hammering in her chest. Someone had been in her apartment.
With trembling fingers, she pulled out her phone and called Archer.
“Morgan?” he answered immediately. “Everything okay?”
“Someone’s been in my apartment,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Everything’s been slightly moved, like it’s been searched. I’m still in the doorway—I haven’t gone in.”
“Stay right there,” Archer instructed, his tone shifting to something authoritative and urgent. “Don’t touch anything. I’m coming up.”
Morgan remained frozen in place, scanning her apartment from the threshold.
Nothing appeared to be missing at first glance—her laptop still sat on the coffee table if turned a little different than how she’d left it, her TV still mounted on the wall.
This obviously hadn’t been a burglary. At least not for her valuables.
Within moments, Archer appeared beside her, his breath coming in heavy pants, as if he’d run up all six flights. His presence immediately reassuring despite the circumstances.
“Has anything been taken?” he asked, voice low.
“I don’t think so,” Morgan replied, still surveying the space. “It looks like someone was searching for something specific.”
Archer stepped carefully into the apartment, his movements deliberate as he scanned the disturbed area. “Let me make some calls.”
“Wait,” Morgan said suddenly, remembering something important. “The cameras.”
“Cameras?” Archer turned to face her.
“I had security cameras installed after finding my door unlocked the other night,” Morgan explained. “I meant to tell you, but with everything that happened, it slipped my mind. Kane installed them—your friend who did my locks.”
Archer tilted his head as he watched her from behind his reflective sunglasses. “Kane installed security cameras in your apartment? When?”
“Thursday, during my lunch break,” Morgan said, wondering at his strange reaction.
“There’s two of them. They’re motion-activated and store footage in the cloud.
” She hesitated, then added, “Actually, you should probably check the footage first. You’ve been here since they were installed, and I don’t want to see your face before you’re ready to show me. ”
The tension in Archer’s posture didn’t ease. “How do you access the footage?”
“On my phone,” Morgan replied, holding it out to him. “Kane sent me the login details by email.”
Archer took her phone carefully. “Let's check this first, then we’ll decide on next steps.”
Morgan nodded, she watched as he navigated to her email, found Kane’s message, and downloaded the security app as instructed.
“The footage is stored in six-hour blocks,” Archer observed, scrolling through the interface. “Looks like there was activity around 6:30 AM today.”
Morgan’s stomach dropped. “I was at your place. I didn’t wake up till about 8.”
Archer nodded, his focus on the phone screen before turning it so they could both watch.
At first it was just a black and white image of her living room, until she watched someone enter the view, coming into the frame from where her window was, but it was out of the camera’s view to watch how the figure entered.
They both watched as someone in a motorcycle helmet and indistinguishable black clothes entered her apartment and started searching for something.
Her stomach dropped and she whipped her head towards Archer.
Could he have broken in while she was sleeping?
Why would he break into her apartment? He would know exactly where she was since she was at his place.
And on Wednesday, he had known she was out with the girls.
He could have been the one to break in then too.
She took an involuntary step back, and the movement caught his attention.
He glanced up, “What’s wrong Morgan, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Was this you?” Her shaky whisper could barely be heard in the silence.
“What?”
“Was this you?” Her voice getting louder, pointing at her phone in accusation.
“Morgan, babe, that’s not me.” He gently took her hand, “I would have no reason to search your apartment, and if I did, wouldn’t I have done that while I was here with you? Or while you were sleeping? Besides, take a closer look at the helmet.”
His calm voice soothed something in her. Made her pause for a moment and take a breath before looking again. The helmet did look different, even though he wasn’t wearing his now, the person’s helmet on-screen had some writing on the front above the visor, where Archer’s was pure black.
She took a breath. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I thought that this could have been you, even for a moment.”
“This was obviously done by someone wanting to make it seem like me if they were caught. See, they’re leaving now, they didn’t even go to the bedroom.”
She watched as the intruder left the screen and her living room was still once more.
“I felt like something was off on Wednesday after I came home from my girls night. Where were you then?”
She watched his face closely, and even without being able to see most of his facial features, she could see his forehead and the very tops of his ears, and his ears were definitely turning pink. He was hiding something.
“Tell me now,’ She demanded, “Where were you on Wednesday night?”
She watched as he scrubbed the back of his neck and looked away, before he huffed out a breath and turned to her. “I was watching you.”
“What?” She reared back, surprise clear in her voice.
“I waited in a parking garage across from your pottery place for you to arrive and stayed until you left for home.”
She squinted at him. “I don’t know if I believe you. How do I know you’re telling the truth.”
He looked up for a moment before focusing back on her.
“There’s a parking receipt that’s time-stamped for the parking garage across the street from the studio in my car outside.
I also watched you smile at your phone as you were sitting, waiting for the bus, before you took the bus to get home.
And we’ll have a conversation later about why the bus is not an option for you to travel anymore. ”
She gawked at him, eyebrows nearly to her forehead.
The tops of his ears got impossibly redder as he kept his face turned away to avoid her drilling gaze as he realized how that last part sounded.
The chuckle made it out before she could stop it with how ridiculous this whole situation was.
“Why were you following me?” She asked with more humor than outrage.
“I just wanted to make sure you were safe.” He turned to her, arms outstretched in a pleading gesture. “But the bus is definitely not safe, and I don’t want you using it, if you need a ride, you call me.”
She lifted one eyebrow impossibly higher to signal her incredulity.
“Please.” He quickly added. “Please don’t take the bus, and let me help keep you safe.”
That was better, but she was still a little annoyed that he’d been watching her without her knowledge.
“Alright, let’s put a pin in this for now, you weren’t the one breaking in.”
“I swear I wasn’t.”
“Alright, but someone dressed like you definitely came in looking for something.”
“Similar gear, yes. But not me, Morgan.” Archer’s voice was firm.
“I know that now,” she assured him quickly. “I just meant—who would dress that way to break in? It’s so... specific.”
“Someone who knew about your connection to me, perhaps,” Archer suggested, his tone darkening. “Or someone trying to implicate me.”
The implication sent a chill down Morgan’s spine. “Jason? Or Richard?”
“Or someone else entirely,” Archer added. “Did you tell anyone about us? About me?”
“Just Tessa,” Morgan replied, thinking back. “And she would never do anything like this.”
Archer was quiet for a moment, still studying the footage on her phone. “Let me make some calls,” he decided. “This is too calculated to ignore.”
As Archer put his phone to his ear, she packed a bag since her room was untouched, though Archer instructed her to not touch anything in the living room that was disturbed to see if they could pull any prints.
The control in his voice eased some of Morgan’s anxiety. Whatever was happening, whoever had violated her space, Archer was here, solid and protective beside her.
As they waited for one of Archer’s contacts to show up, a troubling thought occurred to her. What if this break-in was related to the Vertex situation? What if Richard was searching for something to use against her, to bolster his false accusations?
Or what if it was something else entirely—something connected to Archer’s mysterious past, his careful anonymity, his obvious wealth and influence?
Morgan pushed the unsettling questions aside. Whatever was happening, she would face it with the same determination she’d brought to every challenge in her life. And this time, unlike after her parents’ deaths or Jason’s betrayal, she wouldn’t be facing it alone.
Archer was beside her, his presence a steadying force in the chaos. The mystery, the unanswered questions—all of it faded in importance compared to the certainty she felt in his commitment to her safety and wellbeing.