Chapter 68

Lila’s POV

The message was still on my screen.

Two words. That was all it took to pull the ground out from under me.

Hey, Traitor.

I stared at it until the letters blurred, until I thought my eyes might burn from not blinking, waiting for another vibration, another cruel word, some proof that I wasn’t imagining this. But nothing else came. Just silence.

And that silence… it was worse.

Because silence meant he was out there. Watching. Waiting. Choosing his next move carefully.

Max.

It had to be him. I had blocked his number after that incident in the office to stop him from reaching me but that did not stop him.

Even without his name flashing on the screen, I could hear his voice echoing in my head as if he had whispered those words right into my ear. The smirk, the venom, the anger laced through every syllable.

A cold shiver crawled down my spine. My hands shook as I locked the phone and set it face down on the desk.

The office around me hummed with activity, but it felt muted, like I was wrapped in a bubble of glass and everything else was happening at a distance. Phones rang, printers hummed, conversations rose and fell, but none of it touched me.

I couldn’t breathe properly.

My chest ached from the weight pressing down on it.

I told myself not to look over my shoulder, not to draw attention to myself, but my body wouldn’t listen. My gaze darted to the glass doors, to the elevator, to the street beyond the windows like maybe Max would appear there at any moment, grinning, waiting.

I should tell Drew.

The thought pressed against me hard, but just as quickly, I shoved it away.

No. I couldn’t.

I wasn't sure if he believed me when I said I wasn't keeping any secret away from him and I'm sure his trust in me was balanced on a thread. If I showed him that message, if I admitted that Max still had some kind of hold over me, the questions would come. The truth would claw its way out, and I couldn’t risk that.

Not now. Not when the launch was days away.

So I sat frozen at my desk, fingers clenched together in my lap until the skin around my knuckles turned white.

Soon it was close of business and coworkers began trickling out, packing up early, eager to escape into the evening. My monitor glowed with unfinished reports, but the numbers didn’t make sense anymore. My brain couldn’t compute them.

I was still staring blankly at the screen when a familiar voice pulled me back.

“Lila?”

I startled, nearly knocking my phone off the desk. My eyes snapped up.

Miriam.

She stood a few feet away, her bag slung over her shoulder, concern etched across her face.

“What's wrong? Are you okay?” She asked.

“I… I’m fine,” I said quickly, too quickly, forcing my lips into what I hoped resembled a smile.

But Miriam wasn’t fooled. “You don’t look fine. You’re pale.”

I shook my head, trying to laugh it off. “Just tired.”

She hesitated, then stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Are you sure? You’ve been sitting here for a while. Everyone else is packing to leave but you just look like you don't want to leave the office.”

My throat tightened. For a split second, I thought about telling her the truth, confessing how my insides were twisting with fear. But the words stuck in my throat.

Instead, I just nodded. “I’m okay. Just a bit tired.”

Her frown deepened. “Well, if you’re exhausted, I can drop you off. I don't mind going out of my way.”

Relief hit me so fast it was almost dizzying. For once, luck seemed to open a small crack in the wall pressing in around me.

“That… that would be amazing. Thank you.” I said, my voice trembling.

Miriam smiled faintly. “Then come on. Grab your things. Let’s get you home.”

Her car wasn’t anything flashy. An older Toyota sedan with a faint rattle when the engine came on but stepping inside it felt safer than anything had all day.

I sank into the passenger seat, buckling in as though that belt could hold me down into something normal again.

Miriam filled the space with chatter. She told me about her niece’s birthday party next week, how she had been stressing over buying the right gift. She gossiped lightly about coworkers, laughed about one of our coworker’s habit of misplacing his glasses when they were perched on his head.

Her voice was steady, grounding.

“You know,” she said as she slowed at a red light, glancing at me, “the office won’t feel the same without you.”

My brows lifted in surprise. “Without me?”

She nodded. “You’re… different, Lila. You don’t just talk to talk. You actually listen. You keep your head down but… somehow you still manage to stand out. It’s rare and I will miss that.”

Warmth tugged at my chest despite everything. “Thank you. That… means more than you think.”

“Don’t mention it.” She tapped the steering wheel lightly, smiling before looking back at the road. “Besides, you look like you need a break. You’ve been working yourself to the bone.”

I laughed softly, hiding the way my hand drifted to my stomach as though instinctively protecting it. “Yeah. A break will be good.”

We kept talking. I gave her directions in between. “Left here.” “Straight for three blocks.” “Turn right at the lights.” filling the spaces with easy chatter that almost, almost drowned out the fear.

For a while, I could almost believe I was safe.

By the time we pulled up to my building, some fragile thread of calm had settled over me.

“Here we are,” Miriam said, easing into the curb.

“Thank you so much,” I said sincerely.

She waved a hand. “Get some rest, Lila. You’ve earned it.”

I unclipped my seatbelt. “See you tomorrow.”

I stepped out, clutching my bag, and waved as she drove off.

Her taillights disappeared down the street, swallowed by the dark.

And then the quiet pressed in again.

The short walk up to my apartment felt longer than usual.

The building smelled faintly of cleaning chemicals, the fluorescent lights buzzing softly above. A neighbor’s TV murmured behind one of the closed doors, the sound muffled by walls.

Every noise made me flinch.

The creak of the floor beneath my feet. The rustle of my bag against my side. The jangle of my keys in my trembling hand.

I told myself to breathe. To relax, get inside, lock the door, and let the tension go.

Finally, I reached my door. I slid the key in, turned it and pushed the door open.

Relief spilled through me as I stepped inside.

I was home.

I could breathe again.

I dropped my bag onto the small table by the entrance and reached for the light switch.

But before I could flick it on… I froze.

Something was wrong.

The air felt… occupied.

My eyes adjusted slowly to the dim light spilling in from the street outside, and that’s when I saw it.

A figure.

Sitting on my couch.

Still and waiting.

My breath caught, my body locking in place.

And then he spoke.

“Lila.”

The sound of my name in his voice made my blood run cold.

“You thought you could run from me, right?”

The shadows shifted just enough for me to see his face.

Max.

Sitting in my living room and waiting.