Chapter 8

ZADE’S POV

“Run the footage again,” I ordered, standing behind the security monitor as the image of Charlotte entering the estate appeared on the screen. “Slow it down from the moment she passes the gates. I want the photographer, the vehicle, and every movement around the property during those five minutes,” I instructed, keeping my eyes fixed on the screen.

The footage showed Charlotte walking through the main gates while the vehicle responsible remained outside the estate's primary surveillance perimeter. Whoever had taken the photograph had positioned themselves perfectly between two blind spots, far enough away to avoid detection but close enough to capture a clear image of Charlotte. That wasn't luck. It required knowledge of my security system.

“Whoever took this knew exactly where our cameras couldn't see,” I said, folding my arms as the footage played again. “Nobody unfamiliar with this property would know that position exists, so I want the list of everyone who has ever had access to the estate's security plans,” I instructed my head of security.

He immediately began searching through the old records while I continued watching the screen. Very few people knew the full layout of my private security system, and even fewer knew where the cameras overlapped and where they didn't. The person outside my gates hadn't simply been observing Charlotte. They had been observing my defenses first.

“Trace the vehicle,” I ordered, turning toward him. “Get the registration, ownership history, insurance records, and every camera that caught it entering or leaving the surrounding area. I don't care how far back you have to search. I want to know who owns that vehicle and who has been driving it,” I added.

My security chief nodded and moved toward another workstation, but I stopped him before he could leave. “And keep this quiet,” I warned. “Charlotte doesn't need to know every detail until we know what we're dealing with. She's already frightened, and I won't have her confronting someone because she thinks she needs to solve this herself,” I explained.

Once he left, I opened the second file on my desk. Charlotte's background had already been investigated when she first entered my life, but the information I had received at the time had focused mainly on her education, family history, and financial situation. Now I wanted everything. No summaries. No convenient omissions.

The first page showed Leora's outstanding debts.

I stared at the numbers, then opened the next page. The situation was far worse than Charlotte had told me. Her mother hadn't borrowed money from one creditor. She had borrowed from several people, moving from one lender to another whenever she couldn't repay the previous debt. Worse, Charlotte's identity had been used repeatedly as security without her knowledge.

“She doesn't know,” I muttered, scanning the records again. “She thinks this started recently.”

The latest debt immediately caught my attention. It had been created only days before the men appeared at Charlotte's apartment. The timing was too precise to ignore. Leora had accumulated debts for years, but this particular obligation had been accelerated suddenly, and Charlotte had been given an impossible deadline almost immediately afterward.

I leaned back in my chair as an uncomfortable thought entered my mind.

Someone may have wanted Charlotte desperate.

If the goal had simply been to collect money, there would have been no reason to create such urgency. But if someone wanted her frightened, isolated, and searching for a solution, then the timing made perfect sense. They could have been pushing her toward the one person they knew she would eventually approach.

Me.

I opened the report from the night we met at the club and stared at the details again. At the time, I had assumed our encounter had been random. Charlotte had been there because of circumstances surrounding her mother, and I had been there for reasons of my own. But now I couldn't stop wondering whether someone had deliberately placed the pieces in front of us.

“Was that night really a coincidence?” I asked the empty office, staring at the file.

I didn't have an answer.

That uncertainty bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

Later that evening, I left my office and found Charlotte wandering through the hallway. She stopped when she noticed me, but before either of us could speak, the sound of raised voices came from the service corridor. Two members of my staff were arguing about something, and Charlotte immediately looked toward the noise.

“What happened?” she asked, turning back toward me. “Everyone has been acting strange since I arrived, and now people are arguing. Did you find out who took that photograph?” she questioned, studying my expression.

“The investigation is still ongoing,” I replied, keeping my voice controlled. “We have information, but nothing I can confirm yet. When I know exactly who we're dealing with, you'll be told,” I explained.

Charlotte frowned immediately. “That's exactly what you keep doing,” she said, crossing her arms. “You find something, decide I'm better off not knowing, and then expect me to sit quietly while everyone else decides what's happening to my life,” she added, frustration clear in her voice.

“I haven't lied to you,” I replied, meeting her eyes. “There's a difference between keeping information from you temporarily and giving you information before we understand whether it's safe to do so. Right now, I don't know who took that photograph or what they want.”

“That still makes me feel like a problem you've purchased,” Charlotte said, her expression tightening. “You paid my mother's debt, brought me here, gave me a phone, and now you're investigating my life without telling me anything. How exactly am I supposed to feel about that?” she asked.

Her words made me pause. She wasn't wrong about how the situation looked from her side. “You aren't something I purchased,” I said firmly. “The agreement you signed concerns your work here. It doesn't give me ownership over you, and it doesn't give me the right to make decisions about your entire life.”

Charlotte's expression softened slightly, but the frustration remained. “Then stop treating me like I can't handle the truth,” she replied. “I can handle being scared. What I can't handle is being kept in the dark while everyone around me seems to know more about my situation than I do.”

I understood her point, even if I wasn't ready to give her everything. “The moment you entered this estate, the situation changed,” I said carefully. “Anyone targeting me could potentially target you simply because you're here. My enemies don't need to know why you're staying. They only need to believe you're important to me.”

Charlotte went quiet.

“You're telling me this isn't only about my mother's debt,” she said slowly, looking at me as the realization settled in.

“No,” I answered honestly. “Your mother's debt may have been the door, but I don't think it's the whole reason someone is watching you.”

Her face lost some of its color. “Then what is the reason?”

“I don't know yet,” I replied. “And until I do, you stay inside the secured areas, you don't respond to unknown numbers, and you tell me immediately if anyone contacts you. Those aren't suggestions, Charlotte. They're precautions.”

She stared at me for several seconds before finally nodding. “Fine,” she said quietly, turning away from me. “But when you find out who is behind this, you tell me. I don't want another decision about my life made without me.”

“I will,” I promised, watching her walk toward the guest wing.

I waited until she disappeared around the corner before returning to my office. The uneasy feeling in my chest hadn't disappeared. If anything, it had grown stronger. I opened Charlotte's file again and stared at the date of her mother's latest debt, wondering how many pieces of this situation had been arranged before Charlotte ever walked into my life.

My phone vibrated and It was a message from my security chief.

Sir, we found the vehicle—and it belongs to someone connected to your family.