Chapter 4

CLAIRE

“Miss Johnson, I’m afraid Mr. Johnson can’t talk to you right now. He’s in a meeting,” Mara, my father’s longtime secretary, said cheerfully over the phone.

“Listen, I promise it’ll be quick. I really need to speak to him.”

There was a brief pause, and then her silky voice came back. “How about you leave a message? I’ll make sure Mr. Johnson calls you back as soon as he’s available.”

I was on the verge of losing my cool when I heard a beep, followed by my father’s familiar, soothing voice. “Angel, I’m sorry Mara kept you waiting.”

I could picture him in his office, probably wearing one of his signature pinstripe suits, seated behind his oak desk with a cigar in one hand.

“Dad, why did you send him here?”

He chuckled lightly. “I take it you’ve met Ethan Hayes? A fine man—one of the best. Did you know he used to be a cop?”

I took a deep breath, steadying my voice. “Did the letters stop coming?”

“No. There’s one stuck in the mailbox today.” His tone remained calm, though I could tell he was trying to reassure me. “I had to send Ethan to you. I’m worried, Angel.”

Dad had called me "Angel" since I was born, a nickname he’d once used for my mother before she died when I was two.

“Did you tell him about the letters?” I asked hesitantly.

“I didn’t need to. He has explicit orders to keep you safe, no matter what.”

I turned to my reflection in the mirror. I was standing naked, my long blonde hair tumbling over my shoulders like a golden waterfall, framing my face.

“Something happened, Dad. I think he’s going to find me.” My shoulders trembled as I fought back tears.

“What happened? Were you attacked?”

“No, Dad, I’m fine. But there’s a nasty report in one of the local tabloids. What if he reads it? What if he comes here?”

“Nathan’s going to make sure you’re safe. Stop worrying about that bastard.”

I wanted to believe him, to trust his comforting words, but the fear clung to me like a shadow. “I love you, Dad.”

His voice wobbled as he responded, “I love you too, Angel. You know you can come home anytime.”

I managed a small laugh. “Thanks, Dad, but you should stop trying.”

After the call ended, I turned on some music and slipped into a warm bath, hoping to soak away the tension. Somewhere between the lavender bubbles and the soft rock playing on my phone, I drifted off.

I woke up to the water turning cold. Wrapping a towel around me, I stepped out and headed to my bedroom. I slipped into my lingerie and was rummaging through my closet when the door creaked open.

I spun around, my heart pounding, until I saw Ethan step into the room.

“Don’t you know how to knock?” I snapped, relief washing over me.

He gestured toward my phone, still blaring music. “You wouldn’t have heard me.”

I grabbed a pair of black jeans and pulled them on quickly, noticing how he turned his face to the wall. I tugged on an emerald green silk blouse and slipped into a pair of flats. “Why are you here?”

“I printed off your schedule,” he said, holding out a paper.

I gasped. “Schedule? Why do I need a schedule?”

“I need to know where you’re going and how long you’ll be there. I’ve already put a GPS tracker on your car, and your phone’s been fixed too.”

I stared at him in disbelief. He wasn’t just a bodyguard; he was a full-blown control freak. “Fine. Then add something to today’s schedule.”

He arched a brow. “What’s that?”

“I’m meeting someone at The Ribs,” I said casually.

“Someone? Who?”

“Leonard Garrett,” I replied, keeping my voice neutral.

“Your boyfriend?” His tone was sharp, almost accusatory.

Ignoring him, I moved to my vanity and applied red lipstick, feeling his gaze on me the whole time. I blow-dried my hair and styled it to frame my face, adding the finishing touches to my look.

“Are you meeting another stranger for a kissing spree?” he asked, his words dripping with disdain.

I stood up slowly, squaring my shoulders. “Get the car ready. You’re driving me.”

“What?” His confusion was almost comical.

“There’s no better way to keep me safe than chauffeuring me around,” I said, plastering on a fake smile. “Now be a good boy and get the car ready.”

His face darkened with rage. “I trust you’ll hold your alcohol this time. We don’t need another headline tomorrow.”

I clenched my fists, biting back a sharp reply. “That shouldn’t be a problem now that I have a babysitter to take care of me.”

“Are you that easy, Claire Johnson?” he sneered. “Trying to get every guy in town at your doorstep?”

His words stung more than I cared to admit. I wasn’t meeting Leonard for anything romantic—it was purely business.

I forced a giggle. “Can’t help it. Every man in town is smitten with me.”

He shot me a cold glare and walked out.

NATHAN

At the hotel restaurant, I chose a table with the perfect vantage point—not too far to lose sight of Claire, but not close enough to hear every word of her conversation.

She was seated across from a young man in a navy blue suit who looked like he belonged in a magazine ad. I watched as he reached out to touch her hand, and she rewarded him with a dazzling smile.

“Sassy flirt,” I muttered, startling the waitress who’d been hovering nearby. She smiled nervously, asking if I was ready to order.

I waved her off, my eyes fixed on Claire. She looked beautiful, her green blouse complementing her eyes, her laughter ringing out as she leaned closer to her companion. My chest tightened uncomfortably.

I forced myself to focus on the waffles in front of me when my phone buzzed. It was Gary.

“Got something for me?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Check your email for the full report, but here’s the gist: her ex is bad news.”

I stiffened. “Go on.”

“Daniel Morrow Parker,” he said, his tone grim. “He sent her death threats, dumped a dead rabbit in her bag once, and even hired someone to tail her. Your girl’s been through hell, Nathan.”

My grip on the phone tightened. “Where is he now?”

“No clue. He’s off the grid. Could be out of the country… or closer than you think.”

I glanced at Claire, my protective instincts flaring. She laughed again, and the man she was with leaned closer, brushing his hand up her thigh.

“Gary, I’ll call you back,” I said, ending the call.

I pushed back my chair, my jaw tight with anger. Claire Johnson was in more danger than she realized—and I wasn’t about to let her face it alone.