Page 37 of Stuck with the Billionaire Celebrity

We’ll need them to check for prints or anything that can give us a lead."

Fiona nods and quickly slips out of the room, leaving me with the letter. My eyes skim over the words again, and bile rises in my throat.

This bastard, he’s gotten too close. And now he’s taunting me, taunting her.

I fold the letter carefully and slide it back into the envelope, stashing it in the desk drawer just as I hear footsteps approaching from the hallway.

Grace. She’s up earlier than usual, which immediately sends another jolt of anxiety through me. I close the drawer with a soft click, turning to face her as she steps into the room.

She looks… off. Her skin is pale, almost translucent, in the morning light, and her hands tremble as she holds her phone tight to her chest.

Her wide eyes land on mine, and my stomach sinks when I see the tears brimming, threatening to spill over.

"Theo," she whispers, her voice cracking. "He found me."

Everything in me goes still. Cold. I already know who she’s talking about but hearing her say it out loud makes it more real.

He didn’t just stop at the letter.

"What happened? Did he contact you?"

She nods. She hands me her phone, and I glance down at the screen. There are pictures. Dark, grainy pictures taken from the street.

Of my house.

The front gate. The driveway. Even the windows, as if he’s been circling the perimeter, searching for a way in.

She pulls her arms around herself, hugging tightly, as if she’s trying to keep from falling apart.

"He sent them this morning. I…I don’t know how he found me, but he knows, Theo. He knows I’m here."

I reach out, pulling her into me. She leans against my chest, trembling, and I run a hand through her hair, trying to soothe the fear that’s radiating off her in waves.

"He’s not going to get to you. This place is a fortress, Grace. He won’t get past security. You’re safe here."

But even as I say the words, I know they sound hollow. I know it’s a lie because he’s already gotten to the front porch.

How much further will he go?

This isn’t just about physical safety anymore. He’s already in her head, making her feel vulnerable, no matter how many walls or guards I put around her.

He’s in my head, too.

“Theo, he…he sent me pictures, I mean a video ofus…”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a grainy video of you…fucking me.”

Shit.

“That’s impossible. How would he have that?”

“I don’t know. Did you…” she starts.

Fiona walks in the room. "Tad’s on his way. He’ll be here in five."

"Good," I say, my hand still resting on Grace’s back. "I’ll make sure this gets handled quickly."

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