CHRISTIAN/STELLA
I spentthe day reviewing the security footage from yesterday. There were hours of useless video, but I kept coming back to the same spot—a half-hour “technical glitch” which coincided with Stella’s trip to the coffee shop.
The stalker had not only broken into her apartment; they’d also hacked into the Mirage’s closed-circuit surveillance system. It should’ve been impossible, but the thirty minutes of static that’d replaced what should’ve been a crystal-clear view of the hallway outside Stella’s apartment confirmed it.
I’d already ordered a full emergency overhaul of the building’s security system. Every code changed, every nook and cranny swept for evidence of tampering. They all came back clean, which meant one thing.
It’d either been an inside job, or the stalker had inside help.
My blood iced at the prospect.
Every employee had to pass extensive screenings before I hired them, but life changed. All it took was a debt or a loved one in danger to make a person vulnerable to bribery and persuasion.
I would know; I was often the one doing the bribing and persuading.
I eased a breath through my lungs and shrugged off my fury with a subtle roll of my shoulders.
There was a time and place for business. Dinner with Stella wasn’t it.
I was already running a second round of checks on everyone who worked at the Mirage and Harper Security. I would know by tomorrow whether anyone had weaknesses outsiders could exploit.
Until then, I’d keep the ugly details of the investigation to myself.
Outwardly, Stella had bounced back from the break-in, but she was good at hiding her true emotions.
Even her closest friends thought she was unflappable when the signs of her anxiety were so clear—the way her breathing changed and her eyes darkened, the way she twisted her necklace around her finger whenever she was upset.
She didn’t show any of those signs now, but that didn’t mean she’d put what happened behind her. It’d only been twenty-four hours, for fuck’s sake.
“By the way, Luisa told me about the Delamonte deal,” I said, filling the lull in our conversation. “Congratulations.”
Since the meal started, she’d talked about everything except the break-in. She hadn’t even mentioned how her friends took the news, not that I cared. I only cared that they didn’t endanger her by doing something stupid.
But if she didn’t want to talk about what happened, I wouldn’t force her to.
Instead of sitting next to me like she’d had at breakfast, she occupied the chair at the other end of the eight-person table.
The distance irked me more than it should have, but a tiny smile touched my lips when her eyes brightened at the mention of Delamonte.
“Thank you. I can’t believe I got the deal. I still need to talk to my manager and sign the contract, but…” Her smile dimmed. “Well, you know what happened. Anyway.” She cleared her throat and took a sip of her water. “I’m excited. The campaign can open a lot of doors for me.”
“Is that what you want? To work with brands full time?”
From a logical standpoint, moving Stella into my house was one of the worst decisions I could’ve made.
She was my biggest distraction. My weakness.
That was why I’d tried to keep my distance that morning, but I didn’t fucking appreciate her telling me she didn’t care if I went out and fucked other women.
Like I’d been able to focus on any other woman since I met her.
I’d lasted less than a day trying to stay away from her.
“I think it’s good for the short term,” Stella said in response to my question. “I’m not sure it’s sustainable for the long term. I actually…”
I waited while indecision played across her features.
It was the look of someone who had a secret they were desperate but afraid to tell.
“I might start my own fashion brand eventually. It’s not a sure thing,” she rushed out. “Just an idea I had. We’ll see.”
My eyebrows rose, more in intrigue than surprise.
Stella starting a fashion line made more sense than her working at a magazine.
Some people were leaders, others were followers. Stella might think she was the latter, but she was too talented and shone too brightly to be hemmed in by other people’s expectations.
“I think it’s a great idea.”
She blinked, clearly startled by my response. “Really?” She sounded doubtful.
“You’ve already built one brand with your blog and social media. Building a second shouldn’t be hard.” My mouth tilted. “Correction. It shouldn’t be as hard.”
Stella’s brow furrowed. “I never thought about it that way.”