Chapter 19
Seraphina
The next morning, I dressed for the office with a heavier awareness in my bones. I didn’t let it show. If anything, I walked with a little more confidence, like my heels were weapons, and my smile was just sharp enough to draw blood.
I made my way down to the HR department not long after arriving, stepping through the glass doors with purpose. Clarissa looked up from her desk, startled at first before offering her usual tight-lipped smile.
"Good morning, Miss Vex. Can I help you with something?"
I returned her smile, cool and practiced. "I need a copy of the non-compete I signed. The original, with my signature. I realized I never kept a copy for my own records."
Her brow furrowed. "I could email it to you later today, if that works?"
I shook my head, still smiling. "No, thank you. I'd prefer the signed physical document. I’d like to see the exact version I agreed to. Could you pull it for me now?"
Clarissa hesitated for half a breath before nodding and disappearing into the records room. She returned several minutes later with a manila folder, pulling out a sheet with my signature at the bottom. She handed it to me with an almost imperceptible tightness in her jaw. I didn’t miss it.
"Thank you," I said, easing it carefully into a leather folder I’d brought. "Have a great rest of your morning."
Back in my office, I sat down and opened my laptop, but something about the space felt.
.. off. I couldn’t explain it, not with logic, but my gut had never steered me wrong.
I worked through emails, responded to a few calendar invites, all while being keenly aware of every blink of the overhead light, every shift of air from the vent.
When I got home that evening, the penthouse felt a little too quiet.
I took off my heels, walked into the living room, and without even needing to say anything, I pulled out my phone and snapped a few discreet pictures of the space—including the corners of my office and my desk setup.
But the real reason I was waiting was in my bag: the signed non-compete, still tucked in that leather folder.
I wasn’t going to text it. Not while I had this creeping suspicion.
It wasn’t long before I heard the door open behind me.
Callum stepped in first, his sharp eyes immediately scanning the room like he could smell tension in the air. Reaper followed, more casual in appearance, but just as aware.
Callum’s eyes met mine. "You feel it too, don’t you?"
I nodded once. "Something’s off. I’ve been watched before... this is different."
Reaper crouched low, his eyes narrowing at the coffee table. He reached underneath, fingertips tracing the underside until they stopped. With a slow tug, he pulled out a tiny recording device, no bigger than a thumb drive.
"Cheeky bastard," he muttered, holding it up between two fingers .
I exhaled slowly and walked over to Callum. Without a word, I handed him the non-compete I’d retrieved earlier.
"This is the one I signed. The original. I got it from Clarissa this morning. No copies. No digital trail."
Callum took it carefully, looking it over before tucking it into the inside pocket of his jacket. "Good girl."
My stomach flipped at the words—not from shame or embarrassment, but something warmer. Something more dangerous.
"Any word on the Board?" I asked, turning to sit on the arm of the couch.
Callum and Reaper exchanged a glance.
"One of them paid a visit to your office today," Callum said. "Reaper caught a trace on his security badge. He stayed less than five minutes, but he was in your hallway. Didn’t knock. Didn’t announce himself."
I swallowed down the tightness in my throat. "He was making a statement."
"Aye," Callum confirmed, his jaw ticking. "And now we make one back."
The tension in the room was thick, but it wasn’t fear. It was something else.
Clarity.
The rules had changed.
And so had I.
Reaper stood, the small recording device secured in a lead-lined pouch in his hand.
“I’ll get this back to the lab,” he said, his tone clipped but not unkind. “See who’s been listening, what kind of signal it’s been transmitting. If there’s even a hint of where it’s routed, I’ll find it.”
Callum gave a curt nod. “Let me know as soon as you get anything.”
Reaper’s eyes flicked to me, and for just a second, the edge dropped. “You’ll be all right here?”
I nodded, surprised by the gentleness behind the question. “Yeah. Thanks, Reaper.”
He nodded once and turned to Callum. “You staying?”
Callum didn’t look away from me as he answered, “Aye.”
Reaper grunted and moved toward the door. “Well, I don’t like staying long in places that aren’t mine.” His hand rested on the doorknob. “Too many ways for things to go sideways.”
“I’ll be fine,” Callum said with a smirk. “Go.”
The door shut behind him with a soft click, and just like that, we were alone.
Callum exhaled and ran a hand through his hair, then crouched beside the duffel he’d brought in earlier and pulled out a few familiar tools—a scanner, a penlight, and something that looked suspiciously like it belonged in a spy movie.
“I thought you already swept the place,” I said, watching him as he moved toward the corner of the room.
“I did,” he replied, the soft buzz of the scanner starting up as he ran it along the edge of the baseboard. “But after what Reaper found, I’m sweepin’ it again. Just to be sure. If they’ve planted one device, they might’ve planted two. Or cameras.”
A shiver traced my spine. “Do you think they have?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “I doubt it. If they had a live camera feed and saw me in here, this would’ve escalated already. But I’d rather be safe than caught.”
He kept sweeping in steady silence, scanning the walls, ceiling edges, vents, even behind framed artwork. Every so often, I caught him watching me out of the corner of his eye—as if checking that I was still steady on my feet. I appreciated it more than I could say.
When he moved into the bedroom, I trailed after him, leaning against the doorframe while he checked under the bed, inside the vents, and even behind the bathroom mirror.
“Still clear,” he said finally, lowering the device and straightening to his full height.
“So nothing new?”
“No.” He looked around, expression guarded. “Which is good. If they’d planted more and I found it, that might’ve tipped them off. I need to stay invisible for now. Anyone in your world finds out I’m here… the entire game shifts. And not in our favor.”
I crossed my arms, trying to still the strange tangle in my chest. “But you already looped the building footage?”
“Aye. Every time I’ve come, Reaper’s adjusted it. No one’s seen me—not once. Not even outside.”
“You thought of everything.”
He gave me a look—one that made my heart stutter.
“No. I thought of you.”
The words cracked something open in my chest.
Quiet settled over us again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt… intentional. Like the stillness before a storm—or maybe just the exhale before something honest.
“So what now?” I asked, my voice soft.
Callum sat beside me, close but not pressing, his fingers still holding the edge of the paper like he couldn’t fully put it down. “Now we wait for Reaper’s report. See if that device links to anyone we can chase down.”
I tilted my head toward him. “And in the meantime?”
I turned to look at him, the golden light of the penthouse catching in the angles of his face. For once, he didn’t look like a weapon. He looked tired. Alive. “Are you hungry?” I asked. He blinked, surprised. “I could eat.”
I pushed to my feet, nudging his thigh with mine on the way up. “Good. I’ll make something.” “Lucky me,” he said, standing. “The angry chef routine’s back.” “Careful,” I warned. “I’ve got knives and unresolved feelings.”
The food didn’t matter. We didn’t talk much, but the silence wasn’t hollow. It was full of things we weren’t saying—but might, soon .
After we cleaned up, I paused in front of the living room. My fingers fidgeted at my side, nerves kicking up out of nowhere. I turned toward him. “Do you want to watch a movie?”
Callum blinked, clearly caught off guard. “A movie?” His brow lifted, lips twitching. “What’s this, Seraphina? You just want to be close to me, don’t you?”
I didn’t flinch, didn’t laugh. I just met his eyes and said quietly, “Yes, I do.”
He went still, like I’d short-circuited something inside him.
I nudged him with my hip. “Now lay down. I’ll pick something.”