CHAPTER 4

Lily's POV.

Shawna was already on her feet before I even finished the statement. She pulled her bag then hurried to pay the bill.

“What's wrong?” she said, glancing around the restaurant. “Tell me.”

“I'll tell you in the car,” I responded, guiding her forward. “Let's go.”

She agreed without any questions. That was what made her special. When my voice fell in that way she just moved.

Once in the car, she turned to face me, refusing to turn the ignition key.

“Say something,” she said, urgently.

I told her everything. From the moment I left Dorian's house to everything else. How I found myself in a club. That I drank with a complete stranger. I explained to her how the bartender tricked me. That I drove the white haired man home in his car. I also told her about the phone call just now.

Shawna kept an unblinking stare on me the whole time.

“All that happened?” she said.

“Yes,” I replied.

“And he knows which restaurant you are sitting in.”

“Yes.”

“And he knows what food we ordered.”

I nodded.

“Lily,” her voice went flat and became very serious. “This man is very dangerous.”

“I know,” I responded, exhaling.

“You drove a stranger home in the middle of the night and now he is after you.”

“I know that too.”

“We have to report this to the police,” Shawna suggested.

I didn't argue. My body and mind were too shaken for me to challenge her decision. I kept seeing his eyes at the club. The moment before he became drunk. The way he stared at me like he could see into my soul.

Shawna drove and I kept looking at the rear-view mirror to see if any car was following us. I kept looking around at people walking on the pavement. He could be any of them. Green eyes, white hair and a grey suit. That was all I had on him.

Shawna later threw the police idea away citing that we had no real evidence and the police would do nothing with a phone call about a chicken meal.

“If he's rich and well connected,” Shawna said with her knuckles white on the steering wheel. “The police might be the last people who can help you.”

She drove me back to my apartment then hugged me.

“Call me if you need anything or if anything comes up,” she said.

I turned toward my apartment as she returned to the car.

I should have listened to the odd feeling in my stomach that constantly told me not to go inside the house, instead I pushed forward.

The front door was wrong. I saw it before I even touched it. The lock was scratched like someone had hit it more than once. I pushed the door open and it swung without any resistance, giving a sound I was not used to.

My heart skipped a beat at what I saw the moment I stepped inside the living room.

The couch was overturned. Every drawer in the kitchen had been pulled out and turned over on the floor. Cupboard doors were open and my mother's flower vase was shattered in pieces on the floor.

My heart pounded and my fingers trembled.

I walked slowly into the bedroom. It was worse. The mattress had been flipped over. Every box I kept on the top shelf had been torn open and scattered on the floor.

They were searching for something. .

It was strange. We rarely experienced break-ins in this neighborhood. No one really had anything expensive worth stealing.

I tried to breathe in the middle of the bedroom then I saw it.

On the wall above my head, words in black ink were scribbled across the wall in rough handwriting.

PATEK PHILIPPE

My phone slipped and landed on the floor. My mouth fell open.

The white-haired man had been here. He had sent people into my apartment in search of his damned wrist watch.

I took pictures and videos of the chaos and walked back outside the apartment. Shawna was already gone. I dialed her number and she picked up on the first ring.

“He broke into my apartment,” I said.

“What?” She responded.

“The man I told you about earlier,” I said.

“He made a mess of the whole place,” I continued.

“I'm scared Shawna. I don't think it's safe for me to be here,” I said.

Silence stretched between us on the phone.

“Then wait. Don't go back inside. I'll be there soon,” she said.

I stood outside my apartment, looking at the mess in the living room.

One thing was clear to me. This was a very desperate man. I needed to be careful.

It didn't take long before Shawna came back. She opted to see the chaos with her own eyes and we called the police.

They arrived and took pictures. They asked me a few questions.

“Are you sure he had white hair and his name is Aaron?” He said.

“Yes. He told me his name is Aaron,” I responded.

The two officers strangely glanced at each other before leaving.

Shawna stood with me the whole time and we left together for her place.