Page 7 of Falling for the Grump Billionaire

Adrian answers on the second ring. “Sir.”

“Lang wasn’t there for me,” I say, skipping formalities. “His focus was on Eva Stone.”

There’s a pause before Adrian replies, his tone measured. “That would explain why he didn’t interact with anyone else. We’re still analyzing his movements, but it’s clear he was tracking her.”

“Expand your search,” I instruct. “Lang isn’t working alone. Someone sent him there, and I want to know who.”

“Yes, sir. And the second individual, Sophia Calder—we’ve confirmed her departure from the gala aligns with Lang’s. They left within minutes of each other, using separate exits.”

“Track them both,” I say. “And make Eva Stone a priority. I want to know where she is at all times.”

“Understood.”

The line goes dead, and I stare at the paused frame of Lang. His gaze is predatory, calculating. He’s not a journalist or a freelancer. He’s a threat, and threats require immediate action.

The hours blur into early morning, my office bathed in the pale gray light of dawn. I haven’t slept, but adrenaline sharpens my focus. The pieces are moving, shifting into position. Lang, Calder, Caldwell, Eva—they’re all connected, though the full picture remains elusive.

A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. It’s Adrian, holding a tablet loaded with new intel.

“What do you have?” I ask, waving him in.

“We traced Lang’s movements after the gala,” he begins, setting the tablet on my desk. “He boarded a flight to Chicago two hours after leaving the hotel. We’re cross-referencing passenger manifests and surveillance from O’Hare, but so far, no additional sightings.”

“And Calder?”

“She returned to her apartment in Midtown,” Adrian says. “We’ve flagged her financials and communications, but nothing stands out yet. She’s careful, which suggests experience.”

I nod, scanning the report. “What about Eva?”

“She’s still at her apartment,” Adrian says. “No unusual activity overnight, but I’d recommend assigning surveillance.”

I hesitate. Surveillance is standard protocol, but with Eva, it feels different. Watching her, even for her own safety, crosses a line I’m not sure I want to breach.

But then I remember the photograph—the way Lang’s attention zeroed in on her.

“Do it,” I say finally. “Discreetly. I don’t want her knowing.”

Adrian nods, his expression unreadable. “Understood.”

When Adrian leaves, I lean back in my chair, my mind circling the same question: Why Eva?

She’s a journalist, yes, but one with no obvious ties to the sabotage targeting Kane Enterprises. Was her interview with Caldwell enough to make her a target? Or is she simply in the wrong place at the wrong time?

The latter seems unlikely. Whoever is behind this doesn’t rely on coincidence.

I pull up Eva’s profile on my laptop, reviewing her work with a more critical eye. Her articles reveal a pattern—she doesn’t just report on events; she exposes truths. Corruption, cover-ups, power plays. She’s relentless, unafraid to challenge the people who hold the most influence.

The kind of person who would dig until she found what she was looking for, no matter the cost.

Her fire is admirable, even if it’s misplaced. But it’s also dangerous. In the wrong hands, her determination could be weaponized against her—and against me.

The sun rises higher, casting long shadows across my office. My phone buzzes, breaking the quiet.

It’s Adrian again.

“Sir, we’ve identified a connection between Calder and Lang,” he says. “They worked together on a cybersecurity project for one of your competitors two years ago. Calder was contracted to test vulnerabilities, and Lang provided physical surveillance.”

“Mercenaries,” I say, the word heavy with disdain.

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