“Stella. What happened?” I bit out when he answered.
There was a short, startled pause before he answered. “Nothing, sir.”
“Nothing.” My voice dropped to subzero temperatures. “If nothing happened, why did she just call me, sounding like she was on the verge of tears?”
Another pause, this one laced with uncertainty.
“She was home all morning. She went to the coffee shop, received a call, and looked happy as hell. She was still smiling when she returned to her apartment. I don’t know what happened after that.” I heard an audible swallow. “You told me not to monitor her when she was inside her house.”
I had, and that was a fucking mistake. Screw boundaries. They didn’t apply when it came to her safety.
I could practically hear Brock sweating over the line. “Boss, I swear, I didn’t—”
“We’ll talk about this later.”
I ended the call and climbed into my car. If he didn’t have useful information for me, I wasn’t going to waste my time talking to him.
My only focus was on getting to Stella as soon as possible.
Fury flickered in my chest, its icy burn a balm to the hot, unfamiliar panic in my lungs as I sped toward the Mirage.
Between my McLaren and the semi-empty streets, I made it there in five minutes flat.
When I arrived at Stella’s apartment, I found her in the living room, staring at a sheet of paper in her hands.
I didn’t have to read it to know it was another note from her stalker.
Crimson edged my vision, but I kept my expression neutral as Stella lifted her head to look at me.
“I found it in my bedroom,” she whispered. “He was inside my house. He’s never—this is the first time he’s ever…” Her shallow breaths filled the ensuing silence.
I recognized their erratic rhythm and the tiny shivers wracking her body.
She was on the verge of a panic attack.
I crossed the room and eased the letter out of her frozen hands, the gentle movement at odds with the violent roar of blood in my ears.
A cursory glance revealed three typed words.
I warned you.
The roar intensified.
“He’s not here anymore, but I’ll check the apartment just in case.” I forced a soothing note into my voice, even though I wanted to hunt down the fucker and flay him alive. “Stay here.”
I pulled on a pair of gloves and swept the apartment for other signs of disturbance. I didn’t find any, but I’d have to do a more thorough check later.
For now, I needed to get Stella out of here.
I reentered the living room and snapped the gloves off my fingers. The sweep had settled some of the banked rage in my gut, but the sight of Stella curled up on the couch, her knees drawn to her chest and her face blank, brought it roaring back.
“Everything looks clear, but you’re moving into my place until we sort this out.” My voice was even but firm.
I should’ve listened to my gut and insisted she move in with me after the first note, but I hadn’t wanted to push her too far, too soon.
But now that the creep had gotten into her apartment, in my building…
My hand flexed again.
I wanted to wrap it around the throat of the perpetrator and squeeze the life out of them while he begged for mercy. I wanted to watch the light drain from their eyes at the realization of how badly they’d fucked up.
The soothing images of their torture matched the metallic taste of blood on my tongue. I could already taste the vengeance.
Once I found the bastard, I was going to enjoy making them regret every second of their miserable existence.
I breathed through the coldness mounting in my chest and folded the letter into a neat square that I tucked into my pocket.
I knelt in front of Stella so we were at eye level.
“My apartment is airtight. No one can get in without my permission. You’ve seen the systems I have in place,” I said, my face softening. “You’ll be safe there. Do you understand?”
After a long silence, she responded with a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.
Movement. We were making progress.
When we arrived at my apartment, I took Stella to the only guest room equipped with bedroom furniture.
Since I never allowed overnight guests, I’d turned the others into something more useful: a cyber-surveillance center, a second office for videoconferences, an extra closet for my suits.
With its king-size bed, walk-in closet, and ensuite bathroom, the one real guest room could’ve passed for a master bedroom, but Stella sank onto the bed without examining her new surroundings.
“Get some rest,” I told her. “I’ll take care of moving your things.”
No response.
I recognized shock when I saw it. As much as I wanted to stay with her, the best thing I could do was give her time to process while I sorted everything else out.
My first order of business after I left her room was another call to Brock, who I ordered to bring up the essentials—night clothes, toiletries, that ugly unicorn Stella loved so much.
My next call was to the Mirage’s chief of security.
Charles picked up after half a ring. “Sir?”
“I want all the security footage from the past day sent to me within the hour.” I dispensed with the niceties and rubbed my thumb over the turquoise ring in my pocket.
No matter how cold the temperature or how long I left it untouched, the stone was always warm.
“Of course. For which camera?”
“All of them.” Stella lived on the tenth floor, but the perpetrator had to have entered and left elsewhere in the building.
“All of them? Sir, that’s—”
“Someone broke into my girlfriend’s apartment today, Charles.” My easy tone didn’t match the danger rising beneath its surface. “You must know that already since you’re my head of security. Perhaps you even have a lead on who broke in. So tell me. Which cameras should I look at if not all of them?”
Silence thundered for a beat before he responded. “I’ll have it to you in thirty.”
“Good. And Charles?”
A nervous swallow rattled the line. “Yes, sir?”
“Fire every security personnel who was on duty today.”
I hung up before I had to listen to his tedious protests.
The security team at the Mirage was good, but they weren’t irreplaceable. There was a reason they were guarding a building and not my VIP clients.
And if they couldn’t even do that right, then they had no business being in my employ.
I provided my staff with exceptional pay and benefits, but I expected exceptional work in return.
Brock showed up soon after my call with Charles with a duffel bag and the unicorn. He set them down in the living room before he turned and ran a hand over his buzz cut.
“Boss, I—”
“You’re dismissed for the night.”
My anger had cooled enough for me to recognize that it wasn’t Brock’s fault the stalker had snuck into Stella’s apartment. His job had been to keep an eye on her, not her house.
Still, my irritation ran sharp enough to turn my words into blades.
Relief spread across Brock’s face before he tensed again. “Just for the night, right? Not forever?”
My lips thinned.