Page 24 of Portrait of a Protective Billionaire

“Be a ghost,” I have to remind myself. Don’t get caught, don’t be seen, don’t make it worse. Evan had already tangled himself into this mess for a reason I didn’t know.

You’re not special.

I know that. I didn’t think I was. Therehasto be a reason, right?

Speaking of Evan, it's getting late. Late was when he arrived from work, but it's getting past late. The clock is ticking towards one in the morning, and he should’ve been back hours ago, but as a busy businessman, I don’t want to bother him when he could be working.

If he isn’t, time's not reversible. Better safe than sorry. I can’t lay in bed paralyzed. The only thing stopping me now is my stupid, irrational fear of catching a glimpse of the things the media is saying.

“Call him,” I swallow. I snatch my phone and tap it open as quickly as possible, blurring my vision, so I can’t focus on my flooded taskbar. I open up the phone dial and press his contact. It rings, and I let out a breath, only that breath hitches when it keeps ringing.

“Come on,” I urge, squeezing my phone. It rings. Voicemail. “Dammit, no!” I called him again. Nothing. It goes to voicemail the same as before and for the following four times.

I'm shaking, pleading, and assuming the worst, but I don’t care if I have to sit here for the rest of the night calling him; I won’t stop until he picks up and tells me he is safe. I was too worried about my own safety, up in a guarded penthouse, to stop and think about his, in a mostly glass building where people walk in and out all day. I dare myself to look back at the phone I had clutched to my chest—I accidentally close out of his contact.

Call again.

I open his contact again, but a notification pops up at the last second, and I click on it.

A post loads.

Orange lights my face as I stare, confused at the blazing flames. It is a picture of a limo on fire in the parking garage ofINNO CORP. The one Evan and I rode in. The caption explains the situation. A fire bomb was set inside the car, with no one in it. The culprit is unknown.

“Unknown,” I huff a sarcastic laugh. Bullshit. I have a pretty good idea of who it was. It was a warning.Hewas jealous andholy shit,is he getting bold. He's getting desperate from three years apart, and I’m sure he was foaming at the mouth, hoping he wouldn’t lose me again. This is a nightmare; he was supposed to be after me, and now he’s going after Evan in public. I hope his recklessness gets him caught before he manages to pull off a much more detrimental stunt. Sure, the limo is the only thing that was hurt right now, but what about later? Tomorrow? Where is Evan?

Almost like it was scripted, I hear the front door open and rush out of my room.

“Are you okay?” I ask. Evan appears to be tired.

“You saw?” he inquires.

“I did,” I answer.

“Smells nice in here.” That's weird. Why is he dodging the topic?

“I mopped,” I explain. “The police kept you long?”

“It’s fine. It was only a vehicle, and no one got hurt,” he tries to brush off any more questions I might have. His words are drawn out. “They’re sure it was done by you-know-who.”

Duh.

“Are they going to keep an eye out atINNO CORPtoo?” I pose the question. He waves me off.

“I already have security, but yes, a cop car or two,” Evan states, taking off his coat, eyes drifting away from me. I had his painting sitting by the sliding balcony door.

“Oh, you started,” he strolls over to the propped-up painting.

“Uh, yeah, not much else to do,” I compress my lips. That isn’t what I wanted to talk about, and I'm not sure why he doesn’t want to talk about it. “Evan, I don’t think he’s going to leave you alone,” I start. I feel weird saying his name.

“No, he won’t,” Evan says matter-of-factly. “Besides attention-seeking threats, what else can he do? His face is plastered all over New York. You’re protected, I’m protected, and the police are

looking for him. Eventually, he’ll be caught if he keeps going like this,” he sounds so sure. How can he be so sure?

“Yeah…but—”

“I don’t need you worrying about him. It doesn’t help you, and it doesn’t help me. We’re doing all we can, and we’re going to get him soon enough. Promise.” I nearly forgot how piercing his eyes were until they bore into mine with his lips, promising to keep me safe. My knees buckle.

“I—uh—okay,” I stammer.

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