CHAPTER 22: SOMEONE IS WATCHING ME

The first time I noticed the car, I told myself it was a coincidence.

It was a black sedan parked across the street from St. Mary's Hospital. Its windows were dark, and its engine was running. I had seen it when I arrived to visit my mother, and it was still there when I left nearly an hour later.

I glanced at it once more before getting into the car sent by Alexander.

“Do you know that vehicle?” I asked the driver.

He looked through the mirror. “Which one, Miss Carter?”

“The black car across the road.”

He turned his head slightly, then shook it. “No, ma'am.”

I watched it as we pulled away.

It didn't follow us.

At least, not that I noticed.

I tried to forget about it during the drive back to the mansion. I had enough problems without inventing new ones.

But that evening, my phone rang.

Unknown number.

I stared at the screen before answering.

“Hello?”

Silence.

“Who is this?”

A faint sound came through, almost like someone breathing.

Then the call ended.

I lowered the phone slowly.

A few seconds later, another message appeared.

You should be careful about the people you trust.

My fingers tightened around the device.

I knew better than to reply.

Instead, I went downstairs to find Alexander.

He was in his study, standing near the windows with his phone against his ear. He ended the call when he saw me.

“What's wrong?”

I hesitated.

“I think someone is following me.”

His expression changed immediately.

“What makes you think that?”

I told him about the car, the unknown call, and the message.

He didn't interrupt once.

When I finished, he placed his phone on the desk.

“Why didn't you tell me as soon as you noticed the car?”

“Because I wasn't sure it meant anything.”

“And now?”

I held up my phone.

He read the message, his jaw tightening.

“Did you recognize the number?”

“No.”

“Did you answer any questions from strangers at the hospital?”

“No. Why?”

He picked up his phone again.

“I'm increasing security.”

I sighed. “Alexander—”

“Two guards will accompany you everywhere. The hospital, your visits with Daniel, anywhere you go.”

“I already have security.”

“Then you'll have more.”

“I'm not a prisoner.”

His eyes met mine.

“I know.”

“Do you? Because every time something happens, your first response is to add another guard, another camera, another rule.”

“Someone broke into your apartment. Someone approached your brother. Someone has been sending you photographs of your mother.” His voice was low but firm. “This is not about controlling you, Amelia.”

“Then stop making decisions without asking me.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

He looked away first.

“Fine. We'll discuss the arrangements. But I won't pretend the threat isn't real just because you don't like the restrictions.”

I folded my arms.

“And I won't pretend I have no say in my own life just because you're rich enough to hire an army.”

A faint, humorless smile touched his mouth.

“You never make anything easy.”

“Neither do you.”

He looked at me for another moment before reaching for his phone.

“Victoria,” he said when the call connected. “I need you in my study. Now.”

Within twenty minutes, the mansion felt different.

Two additional guards were stationed near the main entrance. Another stood outside the private wing. The security team checked the gates, reviewed camera recordings, and began tracking the unknown number.

Victoria arrived carrying a tablet.

“Mr. Blackwood, I've contacted the security department. They're reviewing the hospital footage and checking the vehicle Amelia described.”

“Good. Find out who owns it.”

She nodded and turned to me.

“Did the caller say anything?”

“No. Just breathing.”

“Did you receive any links or attachments?”

“No.”

Victoria entered something into her tablet.

Alexander moved behind his desk.

“Show me the recent access reports.”

She tapped the screen.

A list of names and records appeared.

At first, I didn't understand what I was looking at.

Then I saw my name.

AMELIA CARTER — PERSONAL INFORMATION ACCESS LOG.

My stomach tightened.

“What is that?”

Victoria's expression became guarded.

“Someone accessed your personal security file.”

“When?”

She scrolled down.

“Twice this week. The first access was yesterday morning. The second was less than an hour ago.”

Alexander stepped closer.

“From where?”

“The first login came through an external company account. The second used an internal security credential.”

“Whose?”

Victoria hesitated.

“That's the problem. The credential belongs to an account that was deactivated six months ago.”

Alexander's face hardened.

“Who owned it?”

She looked at him.

“Head of executive security.”

The room fell silent.

“Who deactivated the account?” Alexander asked.

“I did,” Victoria replied. “On your instructions.”

He stared at her.

“Then how was it used?”

“I don't know.”

For the first time since I'd met her, Victoria looked genuinely unsettled.

Alexander took the tablet from her and studied the screen.

“What information was accessed?”

Victoria opened another page.

“Your address, Daniel's school details, your mother's hospital records, and the agreement you signed with Mr. Blackwood.”

My heart seemed to stop.

“The agreement?”

She nodded.

“Someone opened the digital copy.”

I looked at Alexander.

“Who has access to that?”

“Very few people,” he answered.

“Your lawyer?”

“Jonathan Reed has a copy. Victoria has access to the company record. I have access.”

“And Sebastian?”

Alexander's eyes narrowed.

“He shouldn't.”

“That's not an answer.”

“No,” he said quietly. “It isn't.”

I stepped closer to the tablet.

“Can we see what they looked at?”

Victoria tapped the screen again.

A document opened, displaying the first page of my contract.

The amount was there.

Five hundred thousand dollars.

The medical expenses.

Daniel's education.

The six-month agreement.

Then my eyes caught a line near the bottom.

SUBJECT: AMELIA CARTER. DESIGNATED BENEFICIARY. FINAL WITNESS.

My mouth went dry.

“Why is that in my contract file?”

Alexander looked at the screen.

“That isn't part of the agreement we signed.”

“Then who added it?”

Victoria enlarged the document.

“There is an attached file.”

A new window opened.

It contained a scanned copy of a page I had never seen before. At the top was the Blackwood International logo. Beneath it were several lines of typed text.

One sentence stood out.

In the event of the subject's return to Blackwood property, the private arrangement shall remain active until the final witness is secured.

I felt cold all over.

“Secured?” I whispered. “What does that mean?”

Alexander said nothing.

I turned toward him.

“You knew about this?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

His expression became dangerous.

“Amelia, I may have withheld information from you, but I am not going to lie about something I haven't seen before.”

I wanted to believe him.

That was the problem.

I wanted to believe him, even after everything he'd admitted.

Victoria closed the document.

“There's something else.”

Alexander looked at her.

“What?”

“The access log shows that the file was downloaded, not simply viewed.”

“Where was it sent?”

“We're tracing that now.”

He handed the tablet back.

“Lock down the archive. Nobody accesses Amelia's records without my direct authorization.”

Victoria nodded.

“And notify Jonathan. I want to know whether his copy was accessed.”

She left the room.

I remained beside the desk, staring at the closed tablet.

Someone had my personal information. They knew about my mother, Daniel, and the money Alexander had given me.

They knew about the contract.

And they had found a way into a system that was supposed to be secure.

“Amelia.”

I looked up.

Alexander stood close enough that I could see the tension in his face.

“From now on, don't answer unknown calls. Don't open unexpected messages. If anything feels wrong, tell me.”

“I can do that.”

“And don't leave the mansion without security.”

I exhaled sharply.

“Here we go again.”

“This isn't a negotiation about your freedom. It's about keeping you alive.”

“I understand the danger, Alexander. But I need you to understand something too. I won't let whoever is doing this turn me into someone who hides in a bedroom and waits for you to decide what happens next.”

His expression softened, just slightly.

“I don't want you hiding.”

“Then trust me enough to let me help.”

He studied my face.

Finally, he nodded.

“Then we do this together. But you tell me everything.”

I almost laughed.

Coming from him, the words were difficult to accept.

“That's a strange request from a man who has built an entire life around secrets.”

His gaze held mine.

“I know.”

For a moment, the room became quiet.

Then his phone vibrated.

He glanced at the screen, and whatever he saw made his expression darken.

“What is it?” I asked.

He turned the phone toward me.

A security alert had appeared.

UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED — PRIVATE RESIDENTIAL FILE.

My heart began to race.

“Someone is inside the system again?”

Alexander tapped the alert.

A message appeared beneath it.

FILE OPENED: BLACKWOOD–CARTER PRIVATE AGREEMENT.

Before either of us could speak, my own phone vibrated.

One new message.

No number.

No name.

Just a photograph.

I opened it with trembling fingers.

It showed Alexander and me standing outside his study earlier that evening. His hand was near my shoulder, and I was looking up at him.

The picture had been taken from inside the mansion.

Someone had been close enough to photograph us without being noticed.

Below it were seven words.

We know about your contract, Amelia.

Another message appeared immediately.

Stop asking questions. Stop looking into Richard Hale. Stop digging into Evelyn Blackwood.

I couldn't breathe.

Then the final message arrived.

Your father died because he asked too many questions. Don't make the same mistake.

I looked at Alexander.

He read the words over my shoulder.

For several seconds, he didn't move.

Then he took out his phone and called security.

“Seal the mansion,” he ordered. “Nobody leaves. Nobody enters. Check every camera, every room, every member of staff.”

He ended the call and looked directly at me.

His voice was quiet, but there was something frightening beneath it.

“They're not just watching you anymore.”

He glanced toward the dark hallway.

“They're inside my house.”