The drive back to the penthouse pulsed with a tense silence that could cut like a knife. It seemed this was always the case with them since this trip.
Anna lay on her bed, lost in loud, restless thoughts, while Adrian had already retreated to his master bedroom.
Julian Mercer had come...
And then he had left.
Coast guard security arrived—and it wasn't by chance. She couldn't shake the feeling that Julian was the mastermind behind it all. Why he did it, she had no idea. Or maybe it was just another ploy to stir trouble and controversy, like he's been doing ever since their encounter at dinner weeks ago.
A faint knock sounded at her door. She hesitated, then got up to see who it was. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Adrian. When she opened the door, his eyes immediately zeroed in on her silk nightwear, and he swallowed hard.
He moved toward her slowly, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. Silence stretched between them.
His eyes rose to meet hers. Calm. Dark. Critical.
"You were thinking very loudly," he said.
Anna offered a faint, uncertain smile.
"Was I?"
Adrian studied her face with the patience of someone examining contracts—searching carefully for the smallest inconsistency.
Finally, he spoke again.
"The Coast Guard inspection."
Her stomach clenched.
"Yes."
"That wasn't random."
She nodded quietly.
"Someone tipped them off."
Crossing her arms lightly, she admitted, "You said you have enemies."
"I do."
His voice remained steady.
"But they usually don't bother with theatrics."
His gaze drilled into hers.
"This was theater."
She felt the weight of his focus pressing down.
"What do you mean?"
He picked up his glass again.
"Someone wanted attention."
The words hung heavy between them.
"Someone wanted us uncomfortable."
His eyes stayed locked on her.
"Or more specifically..."
A pause.
"You."
Anna kept her reaction in check.
"That's absurd."
"Is it?" he challenged, tilting his head.
"You were the only one they looked at twice."
Her fingers curled slightly on the counter.
"That's just your imagination."
He didn't reply, only watched her. The silence was worse than any interrogation.
Suddenly, a faint vibration broke the stillness. Her phone vibrated quietly in her pocket.
Her heart leapt.
Adrian noticed immediately.
"Go ahead," he said.
She slowly pulled out her phone, the screen flickering to life.
Unknown number.
Her stomach twisted.
She opened the message, and the world tilted.
"I hope you enjoyed the yacht, Elena?"
Her fingers went cold.
Seconds later, another message appeared.
"You looked beautiful today. Especially when the Coast Guard arrived."
Her breath caught.
She could almost hear Julian's voice in the words.
Then another message:
"Did you really believe I deleted that video?"
Her face drained of color.
Quick flashes: Julian's penthouse, the night she was Elena Vale, the camera. The night he showed her everything had been erased.
Her stomach twisted violently.
The final message appeared:
"Relax. The footage is safe."
A pause.
Then another: "In my penthouse."
Her grip tightened around the phone.
Julian's lie was exposed—the footage was still there, and he had just confirmed it.
Her heart pounded harder.
The Coast Guard.
The timing.
It hadn't been random.
Julian had tipped them off.
He wanted to see her reaction, to remind her of his control.
Adrian watched her intently.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," he said softly.
She quickly locked the screen.
"Spam message," she claimed.
He didn't move.
"Spam," he echoed.
"Yes."
He studied her again.
Then, slowly and deliberately, he rose from the bed.
In seconds, the distance between them vanished.
Her breath caught as he stood close—too close—feeling the heat of his body, smelling whiskey on his breath.
He leaned toward her slightly, not touching, just close enough to heighten the tension.
"You're lying," he whispered.
Anna forced herself to meet his gaze.
"No, I'm not."
He held her eyes for a long moment—searching, measuring.
Then he straightened.
"Mercer," he said calmly.
Her pulse quickened.
"What about him?"
His expression hardened slightly.
"He didn't come here for business."
The certainty in his voice tightened her chest.
"He came for you."
Anna said nothing. Because the worst truth was—
Adrian was right.
And somewhere out on the darkening Mediterranean, Julian Mercer was smiling, having just reminded her of one simple, chilling fact:
He still had the footage—and now he had proven he could reach her, anywhere.