Riley stepped out of the cab, clutching the small gift bag from the Stones’ party..
She couldn’t stop replaying the conversation with Mrs. Stone—how she’d discovered Eli was their son, the strained sadness in their voices as they spoke about his guilt. He’d saved her, protected her, and yet he’d shut her out of so much. She needed answers.
The next day, Riley stormed into Eli’s apartment without knocking.
“I didn’t know you were their son! And why are your surnames different?”
Eli barely glanced up from his laptop, his jaw tightening. “I changed it when I got back from the military. It’s a long story, and right now, we need to focus on your stalker.”
Riley stared at him, her emotions tangled between frustration and curiosity, but his calm dismissal left her simmering.
“I can’t just sit here,” she snapped, her voice sharp. “He’s out there. Watching. Waiting. And I’m just supposed to fall apart?”
Eli didn’t even blink, his sharp gaze fixed on his screen. “What you need to do is let me handle this. You have no idea what this guy is capable of.”
Riley spun to face him, arms crossed tightly. “Oh, and you do? Like some extra locks and cameras are going to stop someone who’s clearly out to destroy me?”
Eli finally lifted his eyes to meet hers, his expression unreadable but firm. “You’re right. Locks won’t stop him. But I will.”
His confidence sent a chill down her spine. She wanted to argue, to challenge him, but deep down, she knew he was right. She couldn’t do this alone. And though she hated admitting it, she started to rely on him more than she liked.
Eli’s phone buzzed, breaking the tension. He glanced at it, his face darkening with every word he read.
“What is it?” Riley asked, her stomach twisting as dread coiled in her chest.
Eli stood abruptly, grabbing his jacket. “We’re going back to your place.”
***
Her apartment felt wrong the moment they stepped inside. What was once her sanctuary now felt foreign, threatening. Riley stayed close behind Eli as he moved through the rooms, his sharp gaze scanning every corner.
“Stay here,” he murmured, his voice low and firm, as he entered her bedroom.
“Eli, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He didn’t answer immediately, his focus locked on her shelves. His movements were deliberate, calculated. Then he stopped.
Buried among the clutter was something small, nearly invisible—a tiny camera lens.
Eli yanked it free, holding it up for her to see. Riley’s blood ran cold as her knees buckled, her hand gripping the doorframe for support.
“He’s been watching you,” Eli said, his voice low and furious. “The whole time.”
Riley felt like the air had been sucked from the room. Her vision blurred, her heart pounding as the weight of his words crashed over her.
Eli turned the camera over in his hand, his jaw tightening. “It’s live,” he said grimly. “He’s watching us right now.”