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Damien's dark eyes lock onto mine, and I swear, even with the ice cream in my mouth, I feel myself melting from the intensity.
Swallowing the scoop of ice cream, I nod. "Okay, spit it out already. What's going on?"
Damien reaches into his pocket and retrieves his phone. His thumb swipes across the screen, flipping through video after video. Finally, he pauses, his eyes narrowing as he finds the clip he wants.
"It's about this," he states, setting the phone on the island between us.
As my eyes lock onto the phone screen, the video shows a view of the door to my dressing room at Club Allure. The time stamp reveals it's half an hour before my performance.
At that time, I was trying to change into my costume. I remember this because I couldn't put on my costume alone, and I was calling for one of the assistants to help me.
But the person outside the room is not one of the assistants but a strange man. He’s tall, and his face is hidden by the hood of his black sweater. He’s struggling to enter the room.
A noise startles him, and he leaves. A few minutes later, I left the dressing room, and once it was quiet again, the man entered the room.
He starts rummaging through my things until he finally seems to get something. He brings the fabric close to his face, hurriedly stuffs it into his pants pockets, and leaves.
My heart stops, and my stomach twists into a knot.
"Oh... my... god," I whisper, staring at the security footage in disbelief.
The intruder's hooded figure looms on the screen, caught red-handed as he stuffs my panties into his pocket.
Fear and rage course through my veins, making my body tense. I can't believe he was in my dressing room, violating my privacy like that. And no one saw him.
"I thought I should tell you in person," Damien says. "You have a stalker."
"Yeah…I know."
CHAPTER FIVE
DAMIEN
"Andrea, I need you to breathe."
I kept my voice level, hoping to soothe her, but it was no use. Andrea's face was a storm of emotions, her eyes wide and blue with fear as she stared at the cell phone in her trembling hand.
"How did you get this?" She hands me back the cell phone, which I put in my jacket.
"I own the club."
Vince the head of security was doing a random check of the footage. Thankfully, he saw the intruder slip in and out of Andrea's dressing room. We've been on full alert with trying to find the hooded intruder. The last thing we need is word getting around about the lack of security at Club Allure. But it wouldn't be the first time we've had issues.
The more the club grows in popularity, the more we have to watch our backs. So, Ethan and his team are digging to find out if this is connected to us or Andrea. But judging by her response, it's Andrea.
The thought of someone intentionally targeting her never crossed my mind until I see the look of fear in her eyes.
I move slowly, trying not to scare her more than necessary. My movements are measured as I approach her cautiously around the granite island in the middle of the kitchen.
Her eyes focus on me, but she seems dissociated. My hands reach out and slowly brush against her fingers.
Electricity crackles between us the moment our fingers touch, startling her. I haven't even moved, just brushed my fingertips against her left hand, but it's as if I've set off a chain reaction.
Her breathing quickens, her chest rising and falling in short, rapid bursts.
Her cheeks redden as she glances up, and I'm trapped in her blue irises once more. A primal urge surges through me, a fierce need to protect her from any harm that may come her way.
I take a steadying breath, fighting to maintain my composure in the face of Andrea's raw vulnerability. Her eyes are wide, shimmering with unshed tears as she trembles before me. The sight of her fear cuts through me like a jagged knife, stirring a primal urge to shield her from harm.
