Page 39 of Stuck with the Billionaire Celebrity

I hang up and look at Grace. Her hands are still shaking, her face pale. She’s staring at her phone like it’s about to explode, probably expecting another message to pop up any second.

"Hey," I say softly, pulling her back into me. "We’re going to get through this. I promise you."

She doesn’t respond, just buries her face in my chest, her body shaking with silent sobs. And all I can do is hold her, trying to keep her safe from a threat that feels too close for comfort.

This bastard won’t get another chance to scare her. Not if I have anything to say about it.

“I’ll go have Harry make some lunch, sir,” Fiona says as she scurries off nervously.

Devon and Sarah arrive just after Tad finishes his initial sweep of the house. His black SUV rolls smoothly up the long driveway, as if nothing is out of the ordinary.

But everything feels tense—like the air is charged with something unseen, heavy, and dangerous.

I’m standing by the window, one hand in my pocket, the other drumming an anxious rhythm on the frame. Grace is sitting on the couch, her phone clenched tightly in her lap.

She hasn’t said much since the pictures came through. She doesn’t have to. I can read her silence, and see how the fear is wearing on her, making her feel exposed, even in a place that should feel safe.

And that’s what makes my blood boil.

This was the last option for a safe place for her.

I’ll charter a jet to take us to a private island if I need to, if that’s what keeps her safe.

"Devon’s here," I say softly, turning away from the window just as the front door opens, and Fiona shows him and Sarah in.

Tad follows close behind, his expression unreadable as always, but his eyes dart between all of us like he’s already assessing the room for threats.

Devon walks in, his typical laid-back demeanor gone. His brow is furrowed, lips pressed into a firm line as he approaches Grace, crouching in front of her.

"Hey, Grace," he says, his voice calm and gentle. "You okay?"

She nods, but she’s not okay. Her eyes are wide, and her hands are trembling slightly even though she’s trying to keep it together. Sarah plops down next to her and pulls her into a side hug.

Devon stands back up, giving me a sharp look. "Tad filled me in," he says, standing tall, his tone serious. "This is escalating. Fast."

I nod, already on edge. "Too fast."

The thought of her stalker knowing where we are, lurking outside, watching… it’s unbearable.

And it’s unacceptable.

“We can leave the country. I have a few places that…”

“I’m not running from this son of a bitch anymore,” Grace says weakly.

“Let’s not do anything crazy, although we can keep that on the table as an option,” Devon interjects.

Tad steps up next, his calm voice cutting through the rising tension.

“We’ve done a preliminary check of the property. Nothing obvious—no signs of tampering at the gates or fences, and no unauthorized access logged in the security system. That’s a good thing.

But whoever sent those pictures didn’t just stumble upon this place. He’s been watching.

Which means we need to up the security around here. Immediately.”

“Sarah, why don’t you and Grace go downstairs to the kitchen? Fiona was having Henry cook up something to eat, and if I know the two of them, I’m sure there’s some pie and ice cream waiting for you.”

Grace opens her mouth to respond but closes it quickly. Sarah links their hands together, and the two of them leave the room. Once they’re gone, I close the door and turn around to glare at Tad.

---