“He believed I was Laila. But Ryan, I can’t leave,” I said, fighting the tears and the ache in my chest at the thought. The jolt I’d received the moment his hand touched mine had been heart-stopping.
He sighed heavily. “Fuck, Laila. This could be suicide.”
“Everyone thinks I’m dead. Hell, after eleven years, Lilaisdead. I highly doubt anyone is still looking for me, Ryan.” I’d changed a lot about my appearance on top of changing my name and faking my death. I’d had the bump shaved off my nose and had a beauty mark tattooed on my face. I wore green contacts. I dyed my hair. I was covered in tattoos and piercings. I was so far removed from the teenage girl I’d been, it wasn’t funny.
The one thing that had never changed was the fact that my heart belonged to Lucian Stone. No one had come close to him in all this time.
“About that….”
My stomach churned before it bottomed out. “What, Ryan?”
“There was some activity.”
“What fucking activity? Don’t beat around the goddamn bush. Spit it out!”
“Someone was searching for you, and we don’t know who. They’re good, and they accessed one of your files.”
Blood rushed in my ears so loud that I didn’t know if he was still talking. My heart hammered uncontrollably, and I couldn’t breathe.
“What did they access?” I hated that my voice came out breathless and weak. That wasn’t who I was anymore.
“Your medical records from after the shooting.”
“But my medical records show I died.”
“Yourrealrecords.”
Fuck.