That evening, Kelvin sat in his room, staring at his phone.
The unknown number had gone silent after that last warning.
No new messages.
No new threats.
But the silence was worse.
‘Who are you?’ Kelvin typed, then deleted it.
He had asked that question twice already.
No answer.
‘What do you want?’ Same result.
‘Leave me alone.’ Too desperate.
He tossed his phone onto the bed and rubbed his face with both hands, forgetting he was still wearing makeup.
When he looked at his palms, they were smeared with foundation.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“Fucking shit.” A knock at the door made him jump.
“Miss Kelly?” Alexander’s voice.
Cold.
Formal.
“Dinner is in ten minutes.” Kelvin looked at his ruined makeup.
His smeared foundation.
His tired, bloodshot eyes.
“I’ll be down in a moment,” he called out, his voice cracking in the middle.
Silence.
Then: “You sound strange.” ‘Shit.
Shit.
Shit.’ “Just…
clearing my throat.
I’ll be right there.” More silence.
Then footsteps, retreating.
Kelvin let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
***** Dinner was a disaster.
Kelvin had fixed his makeup as best he could, but the foundation was layered too thick, covering the redness from his earlier scrubbing.
His eyeliner was slightly uneven.
His lipstick was a shade too dark.
Alexander noticed everything.
“Your makeup is different tonight,” he said, not looking up from his plate.
“I tried a new look.” “It looks like you tried to put it on in the dark,” Alexander said flatly.
Kelvin’s fork froze halfway to his mouth.
The insult hit him like a slap, but something inside him—something frayed and tired and ‘done’—snapped.
“Maybe if someone didn’t schedule tea with his grandfather and scary brother with only fifteen minutes’ notice, I’d have had time to do it properly,” he shot back.
The words hung in the air.
Alexander’s eyes lifted from his plate.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Like a predator locking onto prey.
“Excuse me?” Kelvin’s heart stopped.
‘Oh shit.
Oh shit.
Oh shit.’ Kelvin had broken character.
He had spoken like himself—like Kelvin, not Kelly.
His voice had dropped.
His tone had sharpened.
He had ‘snapped’ at the man who held his sister’s life in his hands.
‘You’re Kelly Austin.
Sweet, gentle, agreeable Kelly.
You don’t talk back.
So fix it!’ “I—” He scrambled to recover, softening his voice, lowering his gaze.
“I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean to be rude.
I was just…
frustrated.” Alexander stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment.
Then, to Kelvin’s surprise, the corner of his mouth twitched.
“Interesting,” Alexander said, and returned to his meal.
‘Interesting?’ Kelvin didn’t know what that meant.
He didn’t want to know what that meant.
He forced a smile.
“It won’t happen again.
I’ll do better tomorrow.” “See that you do.” Alexander took a sip of his wine.
“Speaking of tomorrow, you’ll be coming to the office with me.” Kelvin blinked.
“What?” “The company.
You’ll be working there.” “I…
what?” Kelvin set down his fork, completely thrown.
“I thought I was supposed to stay here and look pretty while you handle business.” Alexander’s eyes flicked up to meet his.
“You’re my fiancée.
A fiancée who sits at home all day with nothing to do looks suspicious.
People will wonder why you have no career, no ambitions, no life outside of me.” He took another sip of wine.
“You need a job.
A respectable one.
One that puts you in the public eye but keeps you close enough for me to monitor.” ‘Monitor.’ That word stung.
“So what am I supposed to do?” Kelvin asked carefully.
“I don’t have a degree in business.
I don’t know anything about running a company.” “You have a degree in fine arts.” Kelvin’s heart stopped.
‘How does he know that?’ Manager Victoria’s file had listed Kelly’s educational background as a high school graduate from a small town in Boston.
No college.
No degree.
Nothing that could be traced.
“I don’t—” Kelly started.
“Your file says you studied at Marbeck University,” Alexander continued, his tone bored.
“Graduated top of your class.
Specialized in modern art.
It’s all there in the background check your agency submitted.” Kelvin’s mind raced.
‘Marbeck University.
That’s my real degree.
Manager Victoria must have used my real background and changed the name.’ “I…
yes,” Kelvin said carefully, testing the waters.
“I studied art.” “Then you’ll be useful.” Alexander returned to his meal.
“Morrowgate Holdings has a private art collection.
One of the largest in the country.
The current curator is retiring next month, and we need someone to manage acquisitions and exhibitions.” “You want me to be a curator?” “I want you to have a visible, respectable position that explains why you’re always at company events by my side.
Whether you’re actually good at the job is up to you.” He paused.
“But if you embarrass me, there will be consequences.” Kelvin’s grip on his fork tightened.
‘Consequences.
He means Gabriella’s surgery.
He means pulling the funding.’ “I won’t embarrass you,” Kelvin said quietly.
“Good.
Be ready by seven tomorrow.
Don’t be late.” Kelvin looked down at his plate, his appetite suddenly gone.
‘Working at his company.
Surrounded by his employees.
Watched by his eyes.’ This was going to be a long year.
****** Later that night, Kelvin sat on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
His phone buzzed.
He grabbed it, his heart racing.
Unknown number.
[Unknown: Working at Morrowgate Holdings now?
Interesting move.
Be careful who you trust there.
Not everyone is happy about the engagement.] Kelvin’s blood ran cold.
[Stop watching me!] [Unknown: I’m not watching you.
I’m protecting you.
There’s a difference.] [I didn’t ask for your protection.] [Unknown: You need it.
Whether you like it or not.] [Kelvin: Who are you?] A long pause.
Then: [Unknown: A friend.
For now.
Goodnight, Kelly Sleep well.] The typing indicator disappeared.
Kelvin stared at the screen, his mind spinning.
‘Friend?
Protector?
Or an enemy I don’t know about yet?’ Yet again, that night, he didn’t sleep well.