“Shit,” he says again.
“We’ll wait over here,” I tell him. “There might be a few calls.”
“Of course.”
I take her over to the corner of the waiting area. Should I get her out of the building? Is her life in danger? She’s looking at me with her big green eyes, expecting me to take charge. She’s so small, like a fragile bird. I move closer to her automatically, blocking the view of anyone coming into the lobby.
“Do you want to sit?” I ask awkwardly.
She shakes her head.
“A glass of water?”
“No. Luke, what’s going on?”
“I’m sorry, I needed to get you somewhere safe before we had this conversation.” I take a deep breath. “You have a stalker.He began sending you messages and gifts back in December. The security team has intercepted most of them, but the occasional one gets through.”
She blinks. “The roses?”
“Yes. And the whistle.”
Her jaw drops. “That wasn’t from Ella?”
“No.”
“What kind of messages?” she whispers. “Are they…” She swallows. “Death threats?”
“No, no. Nothing like that.” I’m trying to make her feel better, but we both know that him coming into her apartment and going through her underwear is creepy as fuck.
“You said someone might kidnap me and ask for a ransom—does he want money?”
“I don’t think so.”
“What the fuck does he want, then?”
“He wants to frighten you.”
She swallows. “He’s succeeding.” She’s breathing hard. “Everyone knows?” she asks, her eyes like a rabbit in the headlights. “Mum, Dad? Marcus and Caesar?”
“Yes.”
“All the security team?”
“Yes.”
“Roy knows.”
“Yes.”
Her gaze comes back to me. “And you knew. Back in December, at the ball.”
“Yes.”
She looks away, thinking. “Of course.” Her voice is a whisper. “It all makes sense now. Why it felt as if everyone was overreacting. And why I was the only one who was given a CPO.”
Her eyes flare. She’s getting angry. That’s good. I want her mad. That’s a hell of a lot better than being scared.
“Why didn’t they tell me?” she demands.
