Chapter 6
I called Isabella immediately.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
I turned toward Rebecca.
“Call security.”
She was already moving.
I showed her the messages.
“Get police to her address.”
“Do you know it?”
“No.”
I called hotel HR.
Within minutes, we had an emergency contact address.
I hated accessing it.
I hated more that we needed it.
Police reached her street before I did.
Rebecca insisted I stay behind.
I ignored her.
My driver took me across town.
When we arrived, two patrol cars were parked outside a narrow brick apartment building.
Isabella stood on the sidewalk beside an older woman I recognized from photographs as her mother.
She looked shaken.
But unharmed.
Relief hit me so hard my knees weakened.
She saw me.
“Ethan?”
I got out of the car.
“What happened?”
“There was a black sedan.”
“Did anyone approach you?”
“No.”
Her mother looked between us.
“Who is he?”
“Mom, this is Ethan.”
The woman raised an eyebrow.
“The hotel man?”
I almost laughed despite everything.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Isabella looked embarrassed.
“I told her a little.”
Police had already taken a report.
A neighbor’s security camera captured the vehicle.
The plate was partly visible.
Detectives began checking it.
“Why would anyone follow me?” Isabella asked.
I didn’t want to frighten her.
But lying would be worse.
“Someone at my company knew your name.”
Her expression changed.
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did I do something?”
“No.”
Her mother immediately said,
“Then stay away from my daughter.”
I couldn’t blame her.
“Mom.”
“No, Isabella.”
She looked at me.
“You rich people have chaos like weather.”
That was surprisingly accurate.
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
I looked at Isabella.
“If you want me gone, I’ll go.”
She stared at me.
Then toward the police.
Then back.
“I don’t want you gone.”
Her mother sighed.
“But I want the truth.”
So I told them.
Not every financial detail.
Enough.
My accident.
Victor.
Chad.
The stolen records.
Victor knowing Isabella’s name.
Her mother listened carefully.
Then asked one question.
“Did my daughter become a target because she was kind to you?”
I hated the answer.
“Possibly.”
Isabella crossed her arms.
“That is ridiculous.”
“Yes.”
“I handed you water.”
“I know.”
“I’m not important.”
Her mother looked at her sharply.
“Don’t say that.”
Isabella sighed.
“You know what I mean.”
I did.
But the problem wasn’t whether she had power.
The problem was perception.
If Victor or Chad thought she mattered to me, that could make her useful.
“I’m arranging private security.”
“No.”
I looked at her mother.
She said,
“We cannot afford—”
“You won’t pay.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
I understood.
Pride.
Independence.
Fear of owing me something.
“It’s temporary.”
Isabella shook her head.
“I don’t want guards following me.”
“Someone already followed you.”
She hated that.
So did I.
Finally we compromised.
Plainclothes security would watch the building from a distance.
No one would interfere unless necessary.
Her mother agreed reluctantly.
Then Detective Mills called.
The sedan was registered to a private security company.
That company had previously done contract work for Mercer Development.
Chad.
Of course.
“Was he trying to scare her?”
“We don’t know.”
“Is Chad in custody?”
“Not currently.”
My anger surged.
“Why?”
“Because financial allegations are still being processed.”
“And stalking?”
“We need evidence tying him directly.”
I ended the call furious.
Isabella noticed.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Turn into whatever that is.”
“I’m angry.”
“I know.”
“You were followed.”
“I know.”
“Because of me.”
“Maybe.”
I stared at her.
She stepped closer.
“Anger is useful for about five minutes.”
“What happens after five?”
“You start making stupid decisions.”
I almost smiled.
“Your mother says that?”
“No.”
“This one’s mine.”
Despite myself, I laughed.
Her mother watched us from the doorway.
A strange expression crossed her face.
Not approval.
Not disapproval.
Assessment.
“I should go,” I said.
Isabella nodded.
“Text me when you get home.”
“You’re asking me to check in?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting.”
“Don’t make it weird.”
I left.
Back at headquarters, Rebecca had more information.
Victor’s accounts were being examined.
One company stood out.
Arden Risk Consulting.
The same company that owned the black sedan.
Payments had come from a Mercer vendor.
“So Chad ordered surveillance.”
“Likely.”
“On me?”
“Initially, yes.”
“Then Isabella.”
“Yes.”
I clenched my jaw.
“Anything else?”
Rebecca hesitated.
That always meant yes.
“There are photographs.”
“Of what?”
She turned her laptop.
Me.
Leaving physical therapy.
Entering my house.
Walking with a therapist.
Using parallel bars.
Standing without assistance.
They had documented my recovery for months.
“They knew I could walk.”
“Yes.”
Then another photograph appeared.
Brooke.
Meeting Victor.
Before my accident.
My stomach dropped.
“What date?”
Rebecca zoomed in.
Eight months before the crash.
That made no sense.
“Brooke told me she barely knew Victor.”
“She lied.”
Another photograph.
Brooke entering Chad’s office.
Six months before the accident.
My chest tightened.
The timeline changed again.
She hadn’t met Chad after leaving me.
She knew him long before.
“How far back?”
Rebecca clicked.
A restaurant receipt.
Chad and Brooke.
Eleven months before the accident.
Nearly a year.
I stood completely still.
She had been seeing him while we were together.
Maybe romantically.
Maybe professionally.
Either way, she lied.
Then Rebecca opened one final document.
A vehicle maintenance report.
My vehicle.
The SUV from the accident.
My breathing changed.
“Why is that there?”
Rebecca’s face was pale.
“Because Arden Risk accessed the repair history three days before your crash.”
I stared at her.
“No.”
“We don’t know what it means.”
“No.”
“Ethan.”
“My brakes failed.”
“I know.”
The official investigation blamed a defective hydraulic line.
Manufacturer issue.
Bad luck.
Accident.
Now my vehicle history sat inside records belonging to people who wanted me removed.
“Call Detective Mills.”
“I already did.”
I looked at her.
Rebecca’s voice lowered.
“They’re reopening the accident investigation.”
For months, I had believed my worst day was random.
A piece of machinery failed.
My body broke.
My life changed.
Brooke left.
Victor betrayed me.
Chad exploited the aftermath.
But if the crash wasn’t random…
May you like
Then somebody hadn’t simply taken advantage of my weakness.
Somebody had created it.
