The apartment was quiet, too quiet. I sat on the edge of the sofa, staring at my phone, hands trembling. Each message from unknown numbers felt like a knife twisting in my chest. I hadn't slept properly in days. My eyes were rimmed red, and I felt hollow, drained.
I had tried to tell myself I could handle it, that I could face Ethan, that the truth would fix everything. But I was starting to wonder if I had been lying to myself.
I heard a knock at the door. My chest froze. My first thought was reporters… but it was too late at night for them.
"Emily?" The voice was soft, hesitant.
I opened the door and froze. It was Alex. My old classmate, the one from those photos that had almost ruined me.
"What… what are you doing here?" I whispered, barely recognizing him through the mess of my emotions.
"I had to see you," he said quickly, eyes darting to the street outside. "I… I think someone's following you."
I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting. "What do you mean?"
He took a step closer. "I don't know. But after those photos… it's not safe. Emily, you're in danger."
My hands shook. Danger? Was this real? Or just another layer of this nightmare?
Before I could ask more, my phone buzzed. Another message. I froze.
Look outside.
I turned, heart hammering. Across the street, under the shadow of a flickering streetlight, someone was watching. A tall figure, black coat, black umbrella. They didn't move. Just stood there, watching me like a predator.
I dropped my phone, the sound echoing in the silent apartment. "Alex… what do we do?"
He grabbed my arm. "We need to go. Now."
I didn't argue. We ran out the back door, into the alley behind the building. Rain soaked me instantly. I could barely think. The world felt sharp, cruel, jagged.
We reached the car, and Alex's hands were steady, but his eyes were tense. "We have to go somewhere safe. I know a place."
I nodded mutely, too tired to speak.
---
Hours later, we arrived at a small, nondescript house on the edge of the city. It wasn't fancy, but it was safe… for now. Alex let me in, and I collapsed onto the sofa, shaking.
"Emily, tell me everything," he said softly.
I tried. I told him about Ethan, about the marriage, the photos, the messages, Lydia. I told him about the storm, the streets, and the reporters. Each word felt heavier than the last.
When I finished, he leaned back, jaw tight. "Emily… you need to know something."
"What?" My voice was small, fragile.
"I didn't just come to warn you. I… I found something."
I frowned. "Found what?"
He pulled a folder from his bag. My blood ran cold when I saw my name on it. "These are… files on you. All of you. Every move you've made in the last six months."
I felt my chest constrict. "Why… why do you have these?"
"Because someone paid me. Someone high up. They wanted to know if you were alone. If you were… vulnerable."
I swallowed hard, the room spinning. "Who?"
Alex hesitated. "Ethan's… someone close. Someone in his company."
I felt nauseated. Ethan… close… betrayal. My stomach dropped. "Why… why would they do this?"
"Because they don't trust you," Alex said quietly. "They don't trust him either. Emily, you need to know… you're in the middle of something much bigger than just you and Ethan."
My mind was reeling. I had thought this was just about money, about a secret marriage, about Lydia. But now… it was bigger. Worse. Dangerous.
---
The next morning, I couldn't stay in the safe house. I had to see Ethan. I had to confront him, even if it destroyed me.
Blackwood Tower loomed over the city as I arrived. The rain had stopped, leaving puddles that reflected the gray sky. I felt like every step toward the building was a step toward my doom.
I took the elevator to the top floor, heart hammering. When the doors opened, I stepped into the office hallway. Silence. Too quiet.
"Ethan?" My voice cracked as I entered the main office.
He was standing near the window, hands in his pockets. His back was to me, shoulders tense.
"I wasn't sure you'd come," he said finally, not turning.
"I need answers," I said. "No more lies."
He turned slowly. His face was unreadable, but his eyes… His eyes were softer than I remembered. But behind that softness, there was steel. Always steel.
"Emily… you have no idea what's happening," he said.
"I'm done not knowing," I snapped. "Everything… everything is falling apart! Lydia, the photos, the messages. Who's doing this to us?"
Ethan sighed. "It's not just us. This… it's bigger. You've been dragged into something you shouldn't even know about."
My stomach dropped. "I don't care. I'm your wife. You protect me. You tell me the truth."
He hesitated, looking away. "I can't. Not yet. But… soon. I promise."
Before I could ask more, his phone rang. He answered immediately. The tension in his shoulders stiffened.
"Yes," he said sharply. "I know. Handle it. Now."
He hung up, face pale, jaw tight. Then he looked at me, eyes dark and urgent.
"Emily… you need to leave. Now. I can't keep you safe here."
"What? Why? I'm not leaving you!"
"You don't understand," he said. "It's not just me they're after. You… you're a target."
My chest tightened. "Target? What are you talking about?"
Ethan's expression faltered, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of fear. "I can't tell you everything. But… you need to trust me. Please."
I stared at him, torn between anger and fear, between love and disbelief. "Trust you? Ethan… after everything?"
Before he could answer, a shadow moved outside the window. I froze. My breath caught.
"Emily…" Ethan whispered, eyes widening.
I followed his gaze. Across the rooftop, someone was moving with deliberate steps. Tall, dark coat, umbrella folded. Watching.
My heart stopped.
And then… the glass behind us shattered.
The office erupted in chaos. Rain and debris flooded in, and a sharp voice yelled from the broken doorway, "Get her!"
Ethan moved fast, pulling me behind the desk. His hands were firm on my shoulders, eyes blazing with a mix of anger and fear.
"We need to move," he said, voice low.
"Move? Where?" I yelled over the storm of sound.
He hesitated, then whispered, "Somewhere they can't find us. Somewhere only I can reach."
My chest ached, but I nodded. I had no choice.
As we raced through the service corridors, alarms blaring, I felt his hand squeeze mine tightly. It was a small anchor in the chaos, a reminder that despite everything, he still… cared.
And then… I heard it. A laugh. Sharp. Cruel.
"Looking for her, Ethan?"
I turned just in time to see Lydia step from the shadows, a gun in her hand, aimed at him.
I froze. My stomach turned to ice.
"You didn't think I'd let her ruin everything, did you?" Lydia sneered. "Not while I can fix it."
Ethan growled, stepping in front of me. "Stay back, Lydia!"
She tilted the gun, calm, confident. "Or what? You'll stop me?"
I felt sick, trapped between the two people I had thought I could trust. Ethan's jaw was tight, eyes dark, ready to fight. My own hands shook, and my chest heaved.
Then… a shot rang out.
I screamed.
But the bullet wasn't aimed at Ethan. It hit the wall behind him. The sound deafened me.
I looked up and froze. Someone else—another figure—was in the corridor. A stranger, dressed in black, face hidden.
Ethan's eyes widened in shock. He turned toward me. "Emily… get down!"
I stumbled backward, heart racing, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the figure.
And then I realized…
The figure was holding a phone. Recording. Watching. Smiling.
And on that phone's screen…
It was me.
Alive. Terrified. Helpless.
The last thing I saw before Ethan pulled me into the shadows… was Lydia stepping closer, gun raised, eyes gleaming with triumph.
And I knew… this was only the beginning.