1. Grace
1
GRACE
TWO YEARS LATER
T he lights from the cameras flash in quick bursts, blinding me momentarily as I step out of the limo onto the red carpet. The paparazzi are shouting my name, and reporters are calling out for a soundbite. I’m used to this. I thrive on this.
But right now, it’s a little overwhelming. Fake it until you make it, right?
I grin widely, turning on my sweet Southern charm and the award-winning smile that everyone loves. I wave to the cameras and greet people as if they’re my best friends while I pose in front of them, step-and-repeat.
I’ve trained for this moment: head high, shoulders back, act like everything’s fine. But I can’t ignore the chill running down my spine.
There it is again. It can only mean one thing. He’s here somewhere.
My eyes dart across the crowd, scanning for any sign of him.
It wasn’t until recently that I was even aware enough to look into the crowd to search for danger, but now, it’s all I do anymore. It only takes one time to make a girl extremely nervous to be alone in public.
You’re not alone, Grace. There are thousands of people surrounding you.
He’s standing in the shadows just outside the reach of the flashing lights, barely visible but unmistakable. The baseball cap, the greasy jacket, those piercing yellow eyes.
He’s not doing anything; he's just watching me, watching, like always. He smiles at me, and I immediately look away.
Those colored contacts are probably what freaks me out the most.
My chest tightens, and my hands start to tremble. Flashbacks of his texts race through my mind, each one more disturbing than the last.
“You looked so beautiful today in the café, Grace. You smiled at the barista. You should only be smiling like that for me.”
I remember feeling sick to my stomach when I read that one. I hadn’t even realized anyone had been watching me. I was just ordering a coffee.
“I’m closer than you think. One day, you’ll realize you belong to me.”
I force my feet to move, taking another step down the carpet, but my heart is pounding so loud it’s all I can hear.
Why is he here? Why is he doing this?
He’s never let me notice him before. Why is he showing himself today?
I try to signal Security, but my hands feel like they’re moving in slow motion. Everything around me feels too loud, too bright, and all I want to do is scream.
But I can’t. Not here, not in front of all these people.
He wants me to look crazy. I can’t give him the satisfaction of it.
Finally, I catch the eye of one of the security guards. I motion him over.
“That man… over there.” I point toward where my stalker is lurking. “He’s been following me. I’ve told the police. Can you make him leave?”
The guard looks in the direction I’m pointing, but his expression barely changes. “Where, ma’am? I don’t see a man. There’s a mom and her kid standing there.”
I whip back around in shock.
He was just there. He always does this.
My pulse quickens, and I shake my head, frustrated.
“He’s there in the shadows where he always is. He’s been stalking me and sending me threats. Can you make him leave without causing a scene?”
The guard shifts uncomfortably. “With all due respect, Ms. Grace, there are a lot of people here tonight. Are you sure you’re not overreacting? This is a high-security event; no one is allowed without clearance because of Mr. Rossi.”
I freeze at his words. My fingernails dig into the palms of my hands as I clench my fists tightly, curbing the urge to hit him.
Overreacting? Is he serious?
“I’m not overreacting, as you so callously put it,” I snap. “I’m not making this up. He’s been sending me messages and flowers and watching me. This is real.”
“I didn’t mean that you were overreacting about the situation, ma’am. I meant that I don’t see a man in the shadows.”
“Could you go look rather than saying that from five hundred feet away?”
He lets out a groan. He doesn’t seem convinced, but he does go to look. He returns, irritated and shaking his head.
“There’s no one there, like I said.
We’ll keep an eye out, but unless he’s causing a disturbance, there’s not much we can do.
Mr. Rossi has approved everyone, so we can’t make a valued guest leave without his approval.”
My throat tightens, and tears prick the corners of my eyes.
How can they not see the danger? How can they be so blind to what’s happening?
I look back toward where he was standing, but he’s gone.
Of course, he’s gone.
He always disappears when I try to get help. It’s part of his game: making me look crazy and making sure no one believes me. My text notification goes off.
“They’ll never see me the way you do, Precious. You can tell the police or whoever you want, but I’m for your eyes only.”
Bile rises in my throat. I close my eyes and try to slow down my breathing.
They’re only mind games so far. He’s not done anything to me physically. Just ignore him, and he’ll go away.
I block the number again, but as soon as he realizes it, he texts me from another new number.
“I saw you running in the park today. You looked lonely and sad. Don’t worry, I’ll always be there.”
I didn’t see anyone in the park, and my stomach twists at the thought that he was there, and I missed him.
He’s always there, somewhere, watching. I can’t escape him.
The fear, the helplessness, and the frustration they all start to hit me at once, and I can feel the panic causing my chest to tighten and my breathing starts to get ragged.
I’m trapped in this nightmare, and no one believes me. Not the police, not security, not anyone.
He’s not threatening you.
It’s harmless.
Be glad you have an admirer; it means you made it.
He’s just got a little crush on you. I wouldn’t worry about it, too much. It’s not like he’s showing up and talking to you.
Those are the responses I’ve gotten from the police when I’ve asked for help .
I can’t file a restraining order because I don’t know who he is or where he lives. So, they can’t even serve it. It’s like he’s a ghost sent here to torture me.
How many times can I ask for help before someone finally listens?
He could attack me at any moment, and no one would even notice. I push past the guard, my heart racing, trying to get to the other end of the carpet where the press can’t see me fall apart.
As I move, my eyes keep darting around, searching for him, knowing he could be anywhere. Watching.
The moment I’m off the red carpet and out of sight of the cameras, I pull out my phone and text Devon, my manager.
“He’s here. I saw him, but he disappeared again.”
It only takes a few seconds before he responds.
“Stay calm. I’m coming. Where are you?”
I don’t even know how to answer. I feel like I’m trapped in a maze, and no matter where I turn, I can’t escape him.
“By the end of the red carpet. I’m going into the bathroom right up front to calm down.”
“I’ll meet you outside of it. I’ll text you when I’m there.”
I duck into the nearest bathroom, and luckily, it’s empty. I press my back against the cold wall, trying to regulate my breathing.
I can’t let him win. I can’t let him see that he’s breaking me.
My phone buzzes again, and I flinch. I don’t want to look. I don’t want to see another message from him. But I do because some part of me has to know what he’s going to say next.
“Nice dress, Grace. You wore it for me, didn’t you? It’s a shame to hide it in the bathroom.”
I nearly drop the phone. He’s close. Too close. He’s here, watching me right now.
I shiver. My vision blurs and the walls seem to close around me. The door to the bathroom opens, and I almost scream as panic grips me.
This is it. He’s here for me.
I spin around, heart in my throat and ready to scream. I’m pawing at my purse, trying to get my keys with my pepper spray on it. Just as I feel it in my hands, I realize that it’s Sarah, Devon’s assistant.
Oh shit. That almost went bad.
My heart is in my throat and tears prick in my eyes.
“Grace, I’m here,” she says, pulling me into a tight hug. “It’s okay. We’ll figure this out.”
“No, it’s not okay,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “He’s here, Sarah. He’s watching me, and no one believes me. They think I’m making it up.”
“I believe you. Devon believes you.”
I nod, but the fear still lingers, gnawing at the edges of my mind. I want to believe her, but it seems so unrealistic that even I wonder if I believe myself or if I’m going crazy.
“He knew that I came into the bathroom,” I tell her.
“Are you kidding? When’s the last time Devon checked your phone for spyware? Did you block him?”
“Yes, last week, he immediately texted me from a different number.”
“Shit, okay. Devon wants us outside. We’ll figure this out.”
She reaches down and laces her fingers through mine before leading me out of the bathroom. Devon is outside waiting for us, on the phone, talking quietly with someone.
He holds up a finger as he finishes the call.
Devon is six feet tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He looks like he should be walking the red carpet for every surfer movie known to man.
He’s been told that a number of times and always answers that he’d much rather manage the chaos than be in it.
“I don’t know how this guy got in. Theo has everything on lockdown. Not even the paparazzi were allowed to show up unless they had a background check prior.”
“Theo?” I gasp. “Theo Rossi is here?”
“It’s his event, Grace,” he chuckles. “You knew that.”
I certainly did not. I wouldn’t have been here if I did.
“I didn’t. And I’ve never seen the point of crazy celebrity paranoia until now,” I crack, trying to distract myself and the others from my fear.
“It’s not paranoia. Not taking these precautions almost cost Theo his life and his business.”
I roll my eyes inwardly. I know from experience that Theo Rossi is an ass. I’ve heard all the stories and am grateful that I got away from him before any more damage was done to me.
The man got called out for his shitty behavior toward women and didn’t like the public knowing who he really is. He’s made it a point to control everything regarding how people see him.
“If he’s so careful, how did this guy get in?”
He probably let him in, knowing that he was my stalker. He probably is my stalker.
“I don’t know. Theo is looking into it right now,” Devon answers.
“I don’t want to go inside the gala if my stalker is going to be in there roaming free.”
I don’t want to go in there with Theo, either.
“Theo is taking care of it,” he repeats tightly.
I bet he is.
It’s been two years since I last saw Theo Rossi, but I still harbor anger toward him.
I let out a long sigh. I know that Devon is besties with Theo Rossi, but I don’t understand it at all. The man is a pig, and Devon is not.
“I’m supposed to trust a man who hasn’t given me any reason to do so. I don’t even know him, and our views certainly don’t align.”
“If you got to know him, you’d see that they do. I don’t know why you’re so adverse to him. Do you trust me?”
I don’t want to know him ever again. He broke my heart.
“Of course.”
“Then that’s all you need.”
No, it’s really not. Devon sees the good in everyone until they blatantly show them it’s an illusion, and even then, it takes a while before he catches on.
My tryst with Theo was so short-lived that no one knows it even happened. He tried to contact me when his ex, Alexia, went public with everything, but I refused to answer and then blocked him.
Sarah reaches out and squeezes my hand again.
“What do you want me to do?” I sigh.
“You’re going to sit with Sarah and me at Theo’s table. He has impenetrable security with him, and you’ll be safe.”
Not a chance.
“Sitting at a table with Theo Rossi is like sitting with the devil. He goes against everything I stand for.”
“I wouldn’t let anything hurt your image; you know that. Have you ever thought that maybe you’re judging him too harshly?”
Devon cuts with an exasperated sigh as he gestures for me to walk ahead of him.
“No.”
“Aren’t you the one who is forever complaining because people don’t like you simply because of the way the media portrays you? Have you ever thought that he’s not at all like people say he is?”
I know for a fact that he is that misogynistic, cheating, piece of shit that everyone deems him to be.
“But he’s never come out and said they were lies.”
“Why argue with people who don’t matter? I say that to you all the time, remember?”
“Yes, lion and the jackass or whatever that fable is, and it annoys the hell out of me.”
“It’s true, though. People who want to believe or start the lies don’t deserve your energy.”
“Or, in other words, haters are going to hate,” Sara interjects with a giggle.
“The woman who accused Theo of all that nonsense was never in a relationship with him. He was just being kind, letting her stay when he thought she was his assistant’s best friend.
He didn’t do his due diligence until it was too late. His assistant told him they were only friends briefly—back when she dated his brother—but things went south fast. She turned psycho.
Theo asked her to leave, over and over, but she wouldn’t. Instead, she developed a crush on him. When he turned her down—repeatedly—she launched a smear campaign.
Alexia lied about everything. It boosted her career and nearly destroyed his.”
Alexia.
I suck in a breath. Theo had told me a similar story that day when Alexia began accusing him of cheating on him.
Could Devon be telling me the truth right now?
“Why would people believe her if she’s done this in the past?”
“I don’t know. Trust me; I did everything in my power to change the narrative. No one would listen. She played the victim, and everyone continued to fall for it. You included.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine, whatever, we can sit at his table, I guess.”
The three of us begin walking toward the middle of the gala again. Sarah and Devon intercept anyone coming toward me for a picture opportunity until Theo Rossi comes into view, and my heart speeds up.
Whoa! What’s that about? He’s an asshole of epic proportions!
He’s still even more gorgeous in person; I’ll give him that.
He is the kind of man who exudes quiet strength, drawing people in without even trying. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a gaze as sharp as it is tender, he carries an air of mystery, like he's seen the world but still craves something more.
His dark, unruly hair falls just above his intense, stormy-blue eyes. There's something undeniably magnetic about him.
The evilest of men are usually hot and magnetic. Don’t let that fool you.
He wasn’t thinking about you when he used you to cheat on that poor woman; stop thinking about him.
The crisp black fabric of his tux clings to his broad shoulders and tapers perfectly down his sculpted chest, hinting at the hard lines of his muscles beneath.
The tux only heightens his natural magnetism, making him look both impossibly polished and rugged.
A man who could handle any room he's in while making every woman wonder what it would be like to be close enough to touch him.
Except you, Grace. You’re too smart to get caught up with a man who’s been accused of the things he has. Especially when you know for a fact what he’s capable of.
I lick my lips involuntarily just as those gorgeous blue eyes lock onto mine. My breath catches in my throat, and I stumble a bit.
Way to go, Grace. Your ex, the hottest, most successful man in the room, looks at you and you seem as though you’ve never walked in stilettos before.
It doesn’t matter what he thinks. He’s also the most conceited, biggest jerk in the room.
Theo stands gracefully, never breaking eye contact with me. He’s well over six feet tall and a very imposing figure, even with that award-winning smile.
I see why women who don’t know better fall at his feet.
“Devon!” he calls out with a wide grin as he claps my manager on the back.
“Theo, you know Sarah, but this is my client and friend, Grace Simmons.”
“Grace, it’s a pleasure to meet you finally. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he drawls as he sticks his hand out toward me.
So, we’re pretending not to know each other, great. Noted.
I was not at all prepared for how his deep, gravelly voice would hit me.
The sound sends a pulse right to my core.
“And I’ve heard a lot about you,” I reply drily as I shake his hand.
The second we touch, something similar to a bolt of lightning rips through me, and I silently gasp. His eyes meet mine in question.
Did he feel it, too?
Theo pulls out a chair for me and gestures for me to sit next to him. I do and his arm goes to the back of my chair. My eyes widen as I look over at Sarah.
She makes a face and mouths, “Just go with it.”
Just go with it? She’s got to be kidding me, right?
I shift uncomfortably, and not because he’s thrown his arm across my back like we’re that cozy, happy couple again. No, it’s something else.
I take a few deep breaths as I look around the room.
It’s because I like how it feels as though he’s claimed me as his. It’s because I can’t stop thinking about what it was like to lean into him, to feel so safe in his arms.
I never felt that safety with anyone else.
I release a breath and relax, settling in my chair. My phone vibrates in front of me. When I look down, I immediately see pictures of the inside of my home.
“What?” I gasp.
“Grace?” Theo asks as he leans forward while also pulling me into him protectively.
Whoa. Let’s come back to this.
I glance up as my heart stops. Tears prick at my eyes as my chest tightens again.
“Grace, what’s wrong?” Devon questions as he races to my side. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
I can’t speak, and the words won’t form. I open the message from the unknown number and flip through the pictures before handing my phone to Devon.
“Oh my God,” he growls.
“What is it?” Sarah asks.
“Pictures of Grace sleeping. Pictures of her in the shower, throughout her house.”
“He’s been in your house when you were there?” Sarah gasps, her eyes wide with fear for me.
I can’t cry here, but I want to. There will be too many questions if I do. Theo reaches forward and puts his hand on my arm.
“It’s okay. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he says as he tugs me into him again.
Did he do this?
My brain says beware, but my body is mush from his touch.
I feel as though the walls are closing in on me. It’s like all of the air is being sucked out of the room but I’m the only one who seems to notice.
“You’re going to stay at Theo’s estate with him until we get this figured out,” Devon states.
“What?” Theo and I gasp at the same time.
Devon doesn’t pay attention to us as he calls over a giant wall of a man in aviator sunglasses and a tux. The two of them whisper quietly before the man walks away. I’m numb as I stare off into space.
This man was in my house when I was there, and I didn’t even know.
How did I not know?
He could have killed me and…