Chapter 20

Evelyn left Adrian’s office too fast to feel the elevator descend.

By the time she reached the street, rain had already soaked through the shoulders of her coat and turned Lexington Avenue into a blur of headlights and reflected neon. Her pulse still hadn’t settled.

Not from fear.

That would have been easier.

The problem was that kissing him had felt familiar.

Not entirely.

Not enough to form a memory she could trust.

But her body had reacted before confusion could stop it, and now every nerve beneath her skin felt painfully awake because of it.

She crossed the street without fully checking traffic.

A horn blared somewhere behind her.

Evelyn barely heard it.

All she could think about was the expression on Adrian’s face after she pulled away.

Not triumphant.

Not manipulative.

Wounded.

As though she had accidentally touched something he’d spent years trying not to expose.

That frightened her more than lies ever had.

By the time she reached her apartment, evening had settled heavily over the city again.

The storm wasn’t slowing anymore.

Thunder rolled continuously through the skyline while rain hammered hard enough against the windows to blur entire buildings into shifting shadows.

Evelyn locked the apartment door behind herself and leaned against it for several long seconds.

Silence.

No police.

No Caleb.

No Adrian.

Just rain and the sound of her own breathing.

The apartment still looked damaged from the attack. Broken wood near the coffee table. Scratches across the floor. One overturned lamp she still hadn’t bothered fixing.

It should have felt unsafe.

Instead it just felt lonely.

Evelyn dropped her keys beside the kitchen counter before crossing toward the bathroom mirror.

She looked exhausted.

Eyes red-rimmed.

Hair damp from rain.

Lips still slightly swollen from kissing Adrian.

The sight made something twist painfully inside her chest.

“No,” she whispered softly to her reflection.

As though saying it aloud might return things to clarity.

But clarity had stopped existing weeks ago.

Now there was only:

memory

fear

attraction

suspicion

all bleeding together until she no longer trusted where one ended and another began.

Her phone buzzed suddenly against the counter.

Mara.

Evelyn answered immediately.

“Please tell me you’re home.”

“I’m home.”

“You sound weird.”

A reasonable observation.

Evelyn pressed two fingers against her forehead. “Long day.”

“You disappeared for four hours.”

“I was investigating.”

“Which is your version of self-harm at this point.”

Rain crashed violently against the windows.

Evelyn moved toward the couch slowly, stepping around the remains of the broken table.

“Mara…”

Something in her voice must have shifted.

Because Mara immediately went quiet.

“What happened?”

Evelyn stared blankly toward the storm outside.

“I kissed him.”

Silence.

Then:

“Oh, absolutely not.”

Despite everything, Evelyn almost laughed.

“He didn’t even initiate it.”

“That somehow makes this worse.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

Mara sounded genuinely distressed now.

“The emotionally unavailable psychiatrist with secret childhood files on you is not supposed to become hotter after ethical violations, Evelyn.”

“That’s not helping.”

“I’m trying to save your life through sarcasm.”

Evelyn closed her eyes briefly.

The memory returned instantly anyway—

Adrian standing completely still after she kissed him.

His hand lifting instinctively toward her waist before stopping himself.

That look in his eyes afterward.

Not desire alone.

Restraint.

And somehow restraint felt more dangerous.

“He wouldn’t explain anything,” Evelyn whispered.

“Because he’s hiding something.”

“I know.”

“No,” Mara said carefully. “I mean something bigger.”

The shift in her tone made Evelyn sit upright slightly.

“What happened?”

Mara hesitated.

Then:

“I traced the anonymous account.”

Cold moved slowly through Evelyn’s stomach.

“The videos?”

“Yes.”

Rain rattled sharply against the windows.

“And?”

“It wasn’t uploaded from some random burner location.” Mara lowered her voice. “The signal kept bouncing through private servers connected to a security company.”

Evelyn frowned.

“What kind of security company?”

Another pause.

Then:

“One owned by the Cross family.”

The apartment suddenly felt colder.

Evelyn stared at the darkened hallway beyond the kitchen.

“No.”

“I’m serious.”

“That doesn’t prove Adrian sent anything.”

“I know.” Mara sounded exhausted now. “But it proves he’s closer to this than he admits.”

Thunder rolled low enough to vibrate through the floorboards.

Evelyn looked slowly toward her bedroom.

A strange unease had started building quietly beneath her ribs.

Not panic.

Instinct.

“Mara,” she said softly, “I’ll call you back.”

“Eve—”

But Evelyn had already ended the call.

The apartment remained silent except for rain.

Slowly, she stood.

Something felt wrong.

Not dramatic.

Small.

Subtle.

Like entering a room and realizing someone moved an object half an inch without permission.

Her eyes drifted toward the bedroom door.

Open slightly.

She didn’t remember leaving it open.

Evelyn crossed the apartment carefully now, pulse beginning to quicken again.

The hallway seemed darker than usual beneath intermittent lightning flashes from outside.

She pushed the bedroom door open fully.

Nothing immediately looked disturbed.

Closet closed.

Bed unmade.

Lamp off.

Still—

That feeling remained.

The unbearable sense of being observed after observation had already ended.

Rainwater streaked silver down the bedroom windows.

Evelyn moved toward the closet slowly.

Every instinct told her to stop.

Instead she reached for the handle and pulled the door open.

At first she saw nothing except hanging coats and stacked storage boxes.

Then lightning flashed across the room.

A small red light blinked once from the upper shelf inside the closet.

Evelyn stopped breathing.

Hidden between folded sweaters near the back corner sat a camera.

Already recording.