Chapter 9 – Ashley #2
“You know, Ash…” She tilts her head, her eyes narrowing with that sharp, analytical look she only uses when she’s trying to solve a high-stakes problem.
“You say we’re in this together, but you’ve been entirely locked in your own head for the past three days.
Your behavior completely shifted after that client meeting on Monday.
Did something happen in there with Mr. Rusnak after I left? ”
My throat goes dry. I stare down at the chamomile leaves floating at the bottom of my cup, struggling to find the words. How do I even begin to explain the seismic shift that occurred in that room?
I can’t.
I can’t tell her that Samuel is the ghost who has haunted my thoughts for four years.
I can’t tell her that he’s the father of the little boy currently whispering to a plastic dinosaur in the other room.
But more than anything, I can’t tell her the terrifying truth that has been clawing at my chest ever since I saw his name on that contract.
Samuel Rusnak.
I know that name. I know exactly what kind of blood runs through his veins.
The Rusnaks aren’t just high-level corporate logistics providers; they’re a powerful, ruthless Russian bratva family operating in the States.
I know firsthand how rugged, stubborn, and relentless they can be because my best friend, Sofia Morozova, is married to one of them.
I was right there when Lukyan Rusnak claimed Sofia as his. There was no negotiation, no compromise, and no escaping it. When a Rusnak decides something belongs to him, it’s final.
A cold shiver traces its way down my spine, freezing the blood in my veins.
If Samuel ever finds out about Ethan…if he looks into those brilliant blue eyes and pieces together the timeline…
would he do the same? Would he swoop in and claim my son, tearing my entire world apart with the absolute, unstoppable force of his family’s empire?
“Ashley?” Maya’s voice cracks through my spiraling thoughts, pulling me back to the warm living room. I realize I’ve been staring blankly at my tea for far too long.
When I don’t immediately respond, a look of soft realization crosses her face. “Is this…is this about what Ethan said days ago? About his father?”
I quickly set my mug down, my movements slightly too hurried, too rigid. “No,” I say, dismissing the idea with a sharp wave of my hand. “Absolutely not. I’ve already come to terms with that aspect of my life, Maya. It’s a closed chapter. It doesn’t affect me anymore.”
My tone lacks any real conviction, the words sounding hollow even to my own ears, but I push through it, plastering a tight, professional smile on my face. “It’s just a stressful week. The contract is demanding, and—”
A sharp, demanding buzz from my phone cuts me off.
I reach over to the side table and pick up the device. I expect it to be an automated notification from the port authority or a late-night email from our European division.
Instead, the lock screen displays a text from an unknown, encrypted number.
My thumb hovers over the screen before I slide it open. The message is short, simple, and completely devoid of context.
You can build your walls as high as you want, my darling Ashley. You still belong to me.
The air is instantly sucked out of the room. My breath hitches, the phantom warmth of a low, gravelly voice whispering that exact word echoing in my ears.
“Ash?” Maya asks, her voice tense. She must have seen the way the color drained from my face, the way my fingers tightened around the edges of the phone until my knuckles turned white. “What is it? What does it say?”
Without a word, I turn the screen toward her.
Maya leans in, her eyes scanning the brief text. Instantly, her posture changes, her shoulders squaring as a deep, protective concern flashes across her features. “Who the hell is that? Is someone stalking you?”
“It’s nothing,” I say, though my heart is beating a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
I slide the phone face down on the coffee table, trying to force my voice back into its calm, clinical register.
“It’s probably just a spam text, or some idiot trying to provoke a reaction. A pathetic attempt at mind games.”
“No, Ashley, look at the phrasing,” Maya insists, her voice rising slightly with genuine worry.
“That’s not a generic spam bot. That is highly targeted, and it’s incredibly unsettling.
You’re a high-profile female CEO. You can’t just brush this off.
This is the kind of behavior that escalates if you ignore it.
We need to have security track the IP address of that number immediately. ”
“Maya, please, let it go,” I say, though a cold dread is already pooling deep in my stomach.
I try to downplay it, desperate to keep the panic from showing on my face.
“It’s strange, yes, but it’s not an immediate threat.
I’m not going to let some anonymous coward dictate my peace of mind.
We have tight security at the office and here.
I’m safe. I don’t want to expose Ethan to the public eye. ”
Maya stares at me, clearly unsatisfied with my response, but she respects me enough not to push further. “Just…promise me you’ll keep your guard up. Please.”
“I promise,” I murmur.
But as I look over at the blanket fort, watching my son happily playing in his own little world, the message burns a hole in my mind. The tension hangs heavily in the quiet room, a silent, invisible threat creeping closer to my fortress, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.