Chapter 10

The letter arrived three days later.

Not by mail. It was slipped under my apartment door while I was at work. I found it when I got home, a plain white envelope with my name written on it in black ink.

My hands were shaking before I even opened it.

Inside was a single sheet of paper. No salutation. No signature. Just words. You're being watched. Tell Mason to give me what I want, or I'll take what he cares about most.

I read it three times. Four times. My blood turned to ice.

He knew where I lived. He'd been inside my building. He could have been in my apartment while I was gone.

I grabbed my phone and called Mason.

He answered on the first ring.

"Lucy?"

"I got a letter." My voice was shaking. "Vincent. He slipped it under my door."

"Don't touch anything. I'm coming over."

He hung up before I could respond.

Mason arrived in twenty minutes. He brought two men with him. Security, he said. Both of them were big, silent, and carried themselves like they'd seen everything.

They swept my apartment while Mason read the letter. His jaw tightened. His hands clenched at his sides.

"He's getting bolder," he said quietly.

"You think?"

"Don't." He looked at me. "This isn't your fault."

"Then whose fault is it?" My voice cracked. "My father's testimony. Your family's secrets. Vincent's revenge. None of this would have happened if—"

"Stop." He grabbed my shoulders. "You didn't choose this. You didn't ask to be targeted. And I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"Your letter said you don't care about anyone."

"I lied." His voice was rough. "I lie about everything. But I'm not lying about this."

I stared at him. His eyes were burning.

"You don't get to do this," I said. "You don't get to push me away and then pull me back. You don't get to pretend you care when it's convenient."

"I'm not pretending."

"Yes, you are. You made that clear."

"Lucy—"

"No." I stepped back. "You told me I was a game. You told me I was nothing. And now you want me to believe you care?"

His jaw tightened. "I was protecting you."

"By destroying me?"

"I was trying to keep you alive." His voice dropped. "I'm not good at this. I'm not good at caring about people. But I'm not going to let Vincent touch you. That's the only thing that matters."

I didn't know what to say. He looked at the men. "Take the letter. Run forensics. I want to know how he got in."

They nodded and left.

I sat down on my bed. Mason sat across from me.

"I should have told you," he said. "About the robbery. About the connection to your father. About all of it."

"Yes, you should have."

"I didn't think you'd believe me."

"I wouldn't have."

He looked at me. "And now?"

I wanted to say yes. I wanted to say I trusted him. But Sloane's voice was in my head. Broken people break other people.

"I don't know," I said. "I don't know what I believe anymore."

Mason was quiet for a long time. Then he stood up.

"I'm going to keep you safe," he said. "Whether you trust me or not."

"Where are you going?"

"To find Vincent. Before he finds you again."

He walked out. I sat on my bed and stared at the empty doorway.

And I wondered if I'd ever see him again.

Sloane called that night.

"Heard about the letter," she said. "Are you okay?"

"Define okay."

"I'm coming over."

"Don't. It's not safe."

"Don't care. I'll be there in twenty."

She hung up before I could argue. Sloane arrived with takeout and a bottle of wine.

"You look like crap," she said.

"Thanks."

She sat down and poured us both glasses.

"So," she said. "My brother showed up in a panic and left with his security team. Any idea what that's about?"

"He got a letter. Vincent's threatening me."

She went still. "What did it say?"

I showed her. Sloane read it. Her face went pale.

"He's getting bolder," she said.

"That's what Mason said."

She set down the letter. "We're not going to let him win."

"We?"

"You're my best friend. I'm not letting you go through this alone."

I almost laughed. "Sloane—"

"I know you're going to tell me it's dangerous. I know you're going to tell me to stay out of it. But I'm not listening."

I looked at her. She was completely serious.

"You're insane," I said.

"Probably. But I'm not leaving you."

I didn't argue.

"" """

Mason came back the next morning.

He looked exhausted. Dark circles under his eyes. Jaw tight. "Vincent's gone dark," he said. "No activity. No contact. Nothing."

"That's not good."

"It's calculated." He sat down. "He's waiting. Watching. Biding his time."

"What do we do?"

"I don't know." He ran a hand through his hair. "I've got people tracking him. But he's good. Better than I expected."

We sat in silence.

Then Sloane said, "We should go to the police."

"No," Mason said quickly.

"Excuse me?"

"We can't involve the police. My father's business isn't exactly clean. If we go to them, it'll expose everything."

Sloane's eyes flashed. "So we just let him threaten Lucy?"

"I'm not saying that. I'm saying we handle this carefully."

"Carefully." Sloane laughed bitterly. "You've been 'handling' this for months. And now Vincent is threatening to kill my best friend."

Mason's jaw tightened.

"I'm going to stop him," he said quietly. "I'll die before I let him touch Lucy."

"Promises like that don't mean anything." Sloane stood up. "You don't get to play the hero when you've been the villain this whole time."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." She stepped closer. "You've been lying to Lucy. Lying to me. Lying to everyone. And now you expect us to trust you?"

"I'm trying to protect you."

"By keeping secrets? By pushing people away? By treating Lucy like she's disposable?"

Mason's face went cold.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know you. That's enough."

She walked out. I stared at Mason.

"She's wrong," he said.

"Is she?"

He looked at me. His eyes were dark.

"Everything I've done—the secrets, the lies, the way I treated you—it was to keep you safe." His voice was rough. "I know it doesn't make sense. I know it makes me look like an asshole. But I'm not trying to be the villain."

"Then what are you trying to be?"

"Someone who doesn't lose you." He stepped closer. "I know I don't deserve your trust. I know I've given you every reason to walk away. But I need you to believe me when I say I'll do anything to protect you."

"Protect me from what?"

"From him. From my family. From everything." His voice cracked. "I can't lose you, Lucy. I can't."

I wanted to believe him.

But I'd been burned too many times.

"You need to go," I said quietly.

"Lucy—"

"Please. Just go."

He stared at me for a long moment. Then he nodded and walked out.

The door closed behind him. I sat on my bed and tried not to cry. Sloane came back later that night.

"I shouldn't have walked out," she said.

"You were right."

"I know." She sat down. "But I also know he's trying. In his own messed-up way, he's trying."

"I don't know what to believe anymore."

Sloane was quiet. Then she said, "I think he cares about you. More than he's ever cared about anyone."

"And I think that's the scariest part."

She squeezed my hand. We sat in silence and waited for morning.

My phone buzzed at 2 AM.

Unknown number: I know you're with Sloane. I know you're scared. But I need you to understand something.

Unknown number: Everything I've done, I've done to protect you. Even when it looked like the opposite.

Unknown number: I'm not asking you to trust me. I'm asking you to let me help you.

I typed back before I could stop myself: You can't help me by pushing me away.

Mason: I know. I'm trying to stop.

Lucy: Try harder.

I stared at the screen. My heart was pounding. His response came immediately.

Mason: I will.

Mason: Goodnight, Lucy.

Lucy: Goodnight, Mason.

I set down my phone and lay back on my bed. Something had changed. I didn't know what. But something had shifted between us. And I wasn't sure if it was a good thing.

Vincent made his move three days later. I was walking home from work when I felt it. Someone watching me. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

I turned around. A man was standing across the street. Dark jacket. Hood up. Face hidden. He didn't move. Just watched. I started walking faster. He crossed the street. Started following.

I broke into a run.

My apartment building was two blocks away. I could make it. I just had to.

A hand grabbed my arm. I screamed.

"Lucy."

Mason's voice.

I spun around. It was him. He was breathing hard, like he'd been running.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"What are you doing here?"

"Watching you. Vincent's been following you for days."

I looked around. The man was gone. "Did you see him?"

"He's gone now. But he'll be back."

Mason pulled me closer.

"You're staying with me," he said. "Tonight. Until we find him."

"I'm not—"

"This isn't negotiable."

I opened my mouth to argue. Then I saw the look in his eyes. He was terrified.

"Okay," I said.

He nodded and led me to his car.

Mason's house felt different this time. Not like a prison. Not like a trap. Like somewhere safe.

He led me to the pool house. The same one I'd stayed in before.

"Lock the door," he said. "Don't open it for anyone but me."

"What if you're not the one knocking?"

"I'll be the one knocking." His hand brushed my cheek. "I promise."

I wanted to believe him. And for the first time in weeks, I did.