Anna didn't sleep.
The bed was soft, the blankets thick and warm — but every time she closed her eyes, she saw the phone's screen flicker behind her eyelids.
She heard Chris's voice whispering her name.
She heard the soft tap tap tap of nails on her door, echoing from nowhere.
At dawn, she sat curled on the edge of the bed, bag at her feet, hugging her knees to her chest. She hadn't unpacked. She didn't dare.
The sound of a knock made her flinch so hard she almost fell off the bed.
Not again. Please, not again.
But this time it wasn't ghostly. A polite, sharp rap — three times.
"Miss Blake."
It was Ethan's cold voice on the other side.
She forced herself to stand. Her legs felt like rubber. She opened the door a crack and found him standing there, perfectly dressed in a fresh suit like the night hadn't touched him at all.
He took in her pale face and the rumpled bed behind her. If he cared that she hadn't slept, he didn't show it.
"Get dressed," he said. "You need to eat. Then we talk."
Fifteen minutes later, Anna sat at a marble dining table longer than her entire street. A silent maid in black placed plates she couldn't even name in front of her — eggs, fruit, toast, tea that smelled too expensive to drink.
Ethan sat opposite her, scrolling through his phone like she wasn't even there.
Anna pushed the food around with her fork, her stomach too tight to eat. She hated how small she felt in this big, cold house. She hated that she needed him. But more than anything, she hated that he was right — she couldn't run.
Finally, she slammed the fork down. "Enough."
Ethan didn't look up. "Eat."
"I said enough." Her voice cracked. "You dragged me here, you say I'm marked, that I'm cursed — fine. Then tell me how to break it. Tell me how to get my life back."
Slowly, he lifted his eyes to her. That cold stare that pinned her in place. He set his phone aside, folded his hands on the table.
"There are rules," he said calmly. "Break them, and you die. Obey them, and you might live long enough to break the link."
Anna leaned forward, her palms flat on the table. "Then tell me."
Ethan watched her like she was a puzzle he was deciding whether to solve. "Rule one: Don't ignore the calls. If you miss one, they'll find you faster."
Anna's stomach twisted. "But you said don't answer—"
"Don't ignore, don't hang up. Listen. Do as they say — within reason." He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out the phone. He placed it gently on the table between them like a live grenade.
Anna flinched but didn't move.
"Rule two," Ethan said. "Never destroy it. You smash it, it comes back — and it takes something from you when it does."
She whispered, "What does it take?"
He didn't answer.
She swallowed, her hands curling into fists. "And rule three?"
Ethan's eyes locked with hers. "Never lie to it."
Anna's throat went dry. "Lie? How do you lie to a phone?"
"It knows," he said simply. "It always knows."
Silence stretched between them. The cursed phone sat there, silent, screen dark — but Anna felt like it was watching her.
Finally she forced the words out. "And how do we break it?"
For the first time, something flickered behind his cold mask — a shadow of doubt. Or regret. She couldn't tell.
"There's a pattern," Ethan said slowly. "A code hidden in the calls. If we find it, we find the source. We break the source, we break the curse."
"We?" she asked, voice brittle.
He didn't blink. "You answered it. Now you're in this with me, whether you like it or not."
Anna pushed her chair back, standing so fast it scraped the floor. "No. You fix it. You're the billionaire. Fix it yourself."
Ethan stood too, smooth and unhurried. He stepped closer until she was pinned between the table and his shadow.
His voice dropped to a low, soft threat that made her knees shake. "Do you think I want you here? I've spent ten years trying to bury this. You answered that phone — you woke it up again. Now it won't stop until it takes you — or until we bury it for good."
Anna felt the fight drain out of her bones. Her shoulders slumped. "Why me?"
Ethan's eyes softened just enough to sting. "Wrong place, wrong time. Or maybe…" He looked at her like he could see straight through her soul. "…maybe it chose you."
Before she could answer, the phone on the table vibrated.
They both froze.
RING.
Ethan's hand closed over hers, pressing her palm flat against the phone.
His eyes locked with hers, unblinking.
"Answer it, Anna."
To be continued…