Chapter 3 The Warning

I couldn't stop staring at the screen. Three words, three simple words. Yet they made my entire body go cold.

FIND ISABELLA HART.

And beneath them was the message that refused to leave my mind.

SHE'S IN DANGER.

For a few seconds, nobody spoke. The silence inside Alexander's office felt heavy, uncomfortable.

My pulse hammered against my ribs as I looked from the tablet to Alexander.

"What is this?" His jaw tightened.

"I don't know." I laughed nervously.

"That's not funny." "I'm not joking."

I searched his face for any sign that he was lying. I found nothing.

The woman standing beside the desk looked equally confused.

"Mr. Brooks refused to speak to anyone," she explained. "He wrote that message and demanded that it be photographed."

I swallowed. "Why?"

Nobody answered. The woman looked at Alexander. Alexander looked at me. The knot in my stomach tightened.

Something was very wrong. The accident suddenly felt different, more dangerous, more complicated and somehow I was standing right in the middle of it.

"I want to talk to him."

The words left my mouth before I could think about them.

Alexander's eyes immediately hardened.

"No." I blinked. "No?"

"You're not going anywhere alone."

The protective tone caught me off guard. I quickly pushed the thought aside.

Alexander wasn't protecting me, he barely knew me. This was about something else. Something he wasn't telling me.

"I didn't ask for permission."

His gaze narrowed. "And I'm not giving it."

The tension returned instantly. I folded my arms. "Why?" "Because Ethan is under security."

I frowned. "Security?"

Alexander looked toward the city beyond the glass windows. "Reporters are everywhere."

That explanation sounded reasonable. Unfortunately, I didn't believe it. Not after the message, not after the look on his face.

There was something he wasn't saying. I could feel it.

Before either of us could continue arguing, the woman cleared her throat.

"The board meeting starts in fifteen minutes."

Alexander didn't take his eyes off me.

"Reschedule it."

The woman looked shocked. "Sir?"

"Reschedule it."

She immediately nodded. "Yes, Mr. Kingston."

The moment she left, the office fell silent again. I rubbed my forehead. Everything had happened so quickly.

I came for a job interview. Now I was apparently in danger. The entire situation felt ridiculous.

"I should go." Alexander looked at me.

"No." I stared back.

"Excuse me?"

His voice remained calm."You're not leaving."

My patience snapped. "Alexander, you don't own me."

His expression didn't change. "No."

"Then stop acting like it."

A strange look crossed his face. Gone almost instantly, but I caught it.

For the first time, he looked frustrated. Not angry, frustrated. Like he was trying to solve a problem and somehow I had become that problem.

He walked back toward his desk. "What if Ethan is telling the truth?"

I froze. The question hit harder than I expected. Because deep down, I had already considered it.

What if somebody really was watching me? What if Ethan knew something? What if the accident wasn't an accident?

The possibilities made me uncomfortable. I hated not knowing.

Alexander watched me carefully. "You don't look convinced."

"I'm trying to be logical." "Logical people don't ignore warnings."

I hated that he had a point. That only made me more annoyed.

My phone suddenly rang. The sound nearly made me jump.

Both of us looked at the screen. Unknown number.

I frowned. Normally I would've ignored it. For some reason, I answered. "Hello?"

Nothing. I listened carefully. Silence, then a faint sound. Breathing.

My stomach tightened. "Hello?"

The line disconnected. I slowly lowered the phone.

The office suddenly felt colder. Alexander noticed immediately. "What happened?"

I shook my head. "Probably nothing."

His expression said he didn't believe that. Honestly, neither did I.

Before I could think about it further, my phone buzzed again. This time it wasn't a call, it was a text message.

A strange feeling settled in my chest. The sender was unknown. My fingers hesitated above the screen.

Then I opened it. The message contained only one sentence.

"Stop asking questions about your father."

My blood ran cold. I read it twice, then three times. The words didn't change. Alexander noticed my face.

"What is it?" I couldn't speak.

Slowly, I handed him the phone. His eyes scanned the message. The temperature inside the room seemed to drop.

For several seconds, he said nothing. That worried me more than anything.

Alexander Kingston wasn't the type of man who got rattled easily. Yet right now he looked genuinely concerned.

"Who sent this?" he asked.

"I don't know."

The answer sounded weak even to me. Because it was the truth. I had no idea.

My heart wouldn't stop racing. Nobody besides Alexander had mentioned my father today, nobody.

Yet somehow a stranger knew exactly what had happened inside this office.

The realization hit me instantly. Someone was watching, not yesterday, not last week, today, right now.

A chill crawled down my spine. Alexander reached for his desk phone.

"Security."

The word left no room for argument.

Seconds later, two men entered the office. Both wore dark suits. Neither looked friendly.

Alexander handed one of them my phone. "I want this traced."

The man nodded immediately. "Yes, sir."

The second guard moved toward the door. Almost like he expected danger to walk through it.

The whole thing felt surreal. This wasn't my life.

My life involved unpaid rent and instant noodles. Not bodyguards, not threatening messages, not billionaire CEOs.

Alexander turned toward me. "You're coming with me."

I stared at him. "Where?"

"The hospital."

Part of me wanted to refuse. The other part desperately wanted answers. Unfortunately, the second part was winning.

Twenty minutes later, we were inside the back of a black SUV heading toward Saint Mary's Medical Center.

The city rushed past outside the tinted windows.

Neither of us spoke much. I kept replaying the text message in my head.

"Stop asking questions about your father."

The words refused to leave me alone. Eventually, I looked across the vehicle.

Alexander sat beside me scrolling through emails; calm, collected. Like this was just another day for him. I wished I had that ability. 

"Did you know my father well?"

His eyes lifted from the screen. The question hung between us. For a second, I thought he wouldn't answer.

Then he sighed. "No."

I frowned. "But you accused him of stealing from your family."

"I accused him because evidence points to him."

Evidence. The word bothered me. Because evidence could be wrong, people could lie, documents could be forged. I knew that much.

"My father never mentioned your family."

Something dark flashed across Alexander's face.

"That doesn't surprise me."

Before I could ask another question, the SUV suddenly slammed on its brakes.

The force threw me forward. A curse escaped Alexander.

Outside, horns exploded, drivers shouted. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest.

"What happened?" I asked.

The driver didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stared ahead, frozen, terrified.

A terrible feeling settled in my stomach. Slowly, Alexander looked through the windshield.

Then his entire body went still. I followed his gaze and my blood turned to ice.

A black sedan sat sideways across the road, completely blocking our path.

The doors opened. One, two, three, four men stepped out.

All dressed in black, all moving toward us and one of them was holding a gun.