Page 66 of Stuck with the Billionaire Celebrity

“I’m fine,” I reply, though the tension in my voice betrays me. “I need an update on Grace’s stalker. Has he shown up yet?”

“Not yet. He’s going to play the long game with this, I imagine, that’s his MO.”

“When did this all start, exactly? And why the hell haven’t we caught this guy yet?”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and I can almost hear Devon thinking through his response.

“The first incident we know of was about two months ago.

Grace received a couple of threatening letters at her house, but at first, they didn’t seem too serious. Just some guy spouting nonsense about watching her.

It wasn’t until she started getting text messages—more specific ones, mentioning places she’d been, things she’d done—that we knew we had a problem.”

I rub a hand over my face, trying to process it all. “And we’ve got nothing on him? No leads? No clue who he is?”

“We’ve been looking into anyone who might have a reason to target her,” he replies.

“Ex-boyfriends, anyone she’s had a falling out with in the industry—but nothing’s turned up.

This guy’s smart. He’s careful.

Every time we think we’re close, he slips away.”

I grit my teeth. “There has to be something we’re missing. People don’t just vanish like this.”

“That’s the thing—he’s not trying to vanish.

It’s almost like he wants us to know he’s there, but only on his terms.

Every move he makes is calculated.

Like tonight. He didn’t try to kill her—he just wanted her to know he could.”

The thought sends a chill down my spine, colder than the ice bath ever could. This guy isn’t just some crazed fan. He’s playing a game, and Grace is the prize.

“What about the car?” I ask my voice tight. “Have we checked it out yet?”

“We had it towed to the garage for a full inspection. The guy didn’t leave anything behind.”

“Keep me updated. I want to know the second you find something.”

“You got it.”

I hang up the phone, leaning back in my chair and staring at the ceiling. My mind is racing, trying to piece together the puzzle that is Grace’s stalker.

But no matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the feeling that we’re missing something.

I sit up, pulling the security files closer and scanning them again. There must be a connection.

Someone who has access to her life, and her schedule. Someone who knows her every move.

But who? And why?

A knock on the door pulls me out of my thoughts, and I glance up to see Tad standing in the doorway, his expression grim.

“We’ve got another problem,” he says, stepping inside.

I raise an eyebrow, motioning for him to continue.

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