Victor Cross was everywhere. It was as if the walls around me were closing in, and no matter where I turned, he was right there, pulling invisible strings and weaving himself deeper into my life.
I hadn’t even fully processed the fact that he’d been at my house the morning after Grayson warned me to stay away from him. Now, here he was, standing in the middle of the school parking lot, leaning casually against his sleek black car, as if he had every right to be there.
“Lila,” he called out as I froze in my tracks. His smile was polite, almost charming, but I knew better than to trust it.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice sharp, my hands gripping the straps of my backpack.
Victor didn’t flinch at my tone. Instead, he gestured toward his car. “I thought I’d offer you a ride home. Your parents seemed to appreciate my help yesterday. Why not extend the courtesy?”
I stared at him, my heart pounding. “No thanks. I can walk.”
He stepped closer, his movements slow and calculated, like a predator sizing up its prey. “Come on now, Lila. Your parents trust me. Why don’t you?”
“Because I know who you are,” I said, my voice steady despite the fear creeping into my chest.
Victor chuckled, the sound low and condescending. “And who do you think I am, exactly?”
“The man who plays puppet master while everyone else suffers,” I shot back.
His smile didn’t falter, but his eyes hardened. “Careful, Lila. You don’t want to make me your enemy.”
“I don’t want anything to do with you,” I snapped. “So stay out of my life.”
Victor leaned in slightly, his presence overwhelming. “Oh, Lila, if only it were that simple. But you see, you’re already involved. And the deeper you dig, the more dangerous it gets. For you. For your family.”
I took a step back, my stomach churning. “Is that a threat?”
“Call it a warning,” he said smoothly, straightening up. “Now, are you sure you don’t want that ride?”
“Positive,” I said through gritted teeth.
Victor sighed as if disappointed, then gave me a small, almost pitying smile. “Suit yourself. But don’t say I didn’t try to help.”
He climbed into his car and drove off, leaving me standing in the parking lot with my heart racing and my mind spinning.
That evening, I sat at my desk, staring at the folded letter I’d taken from the mansion’s library. The initials on it, T. Sterling, had nagged at me ever since I’d seen them. Something about it felt off, like there was more to the story than I realized.
I carefully unfolded the paper and read through it again, the words making my stomach twist.
The letter wasn’t just about Victor—it was about Tessa’s father. The words “Evelyn” and “cover-up” jumped out at me like flashing neon signs.
T. Sterling was involved. He knew something about Evelyn’s death.
I sank back in my chair, my heart pounding. Did Tessa know? Had her family been covering for Victor, or had they been working together?
A million questions raced through my mind, each one more terrifying than the last.
I pulled out my phone, considering texting Tessa. But before I could type a single word, my screen lit up with a new notification.
An unknown number.
The message made my blood run cold.
“Don’t forget who’s watching you.”