Chapter 7

CLAIRE

“A single room, please,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Top floor. As far away from other guests as possible.”

“And for how many nights, ma’am?”

“Just one for now. I’ll extend if necessary.” I give them the payment information. The transaction confirmation dings on my screen, giving me a solid destination and a twelve-hour reprieve.

But then… a ripple of heat spreads across the nape of my neck like a prickle of awareness. The air behind me just shifted.

I don't turn around. I don't need to.

“Good morning, sir. Your suite is ready. We have prepared the ocean-view penthouse, just as you requested. Your luggage is already on its way up,” the receptionist says, smiling politely with the kind of tone reserved for the owner of an establishment.

My heart hammers against my ribs. I clutch the room key card the receptionist handed me—Room 1207. Too late.

I can feel him standing right behind me.

“Thank you.”

That voice. Damn, it's him, isn't it?

I'm tempted to turn, but I can't. I can't risk it. Whatever past Zeke claims to have with me, I’m not ready to explore it right now. I've been through enough already.

He moves back and his presence disappears as he walks out of the reception area, heading toward the main resort exit.

Relief. The rush of it is so strong it almost makes my knees buckle.

He’s leaving. He didn't even acknowledge me. He just checked in, or was checked in, and then walked right past. Maybe he genuinely didn't see me. Maybe the reception desk was enough of a barrier.

I take a shaky breath and grab my small shoulder bag. I need to get to that elevator, fast.

I start to move quickly, keeping my head down, angling toward the bank of lifts.

I get about three steps forward when the receptionist calls me back.

“Um… ma’am?”

I glance over to the counter. The receptionist is now typing something new into the system. She glances up at me and smiles.

“A slight adjustment to your booking,” she says, tapping the screen. “The gentleman who just left? Mr. Harrington. He’s requested to upgrade your room for your stay. You’ll be in the penthouse wing now, too. And you won't need that key card anymore.”

She reaches under the counter and pulls out a sleek, gold key.

“You’ve been moved to the Ocean-View Penthouse Suite, Room 1401. Compliments of Mr. Harrington. Your luggage has already been sent up.”

My blood runs ice-cold. It’s not relief I feel anymore. This is terrible. I don't need help, especially not from someone I'm trying to avoid.

I stare at the gold key, then back at the door he disappeared through, and I know: He might be gone from the lobby and pretend he didn't see me, but he sure knows what he's doing.

****

The so-called “ocean view” is stunning. It’s the kind of view that screams impossible money and absolute privacy. Just what suits me, but I'm a bit hesitant to enjoy it. Because it's free from a stranger who seems to be stalking me.

Anyways, I hope I don't run into him again for now.

As I start to settle in, my phone rings.

CASSIE

Another drama for the day; can't I get at least one moment of peace?

“What the hell do you want?“ I spit. “Check up on me to see if I'm having sex with Levi again?“

“Claire—” she starts, and I don't let her continue.

“It was Mother, wasn't it? She set you up for it.“

“Claire—”

“I don't know why she keeps interfering with my life. Doesn't she have a crippled husband to take care of?“

She snaps. “Claire, how could you say that? He's still your father!“

“Fuck him. Fuck all of you.“

“CLAIRE!!“

I cut the call and raise my phone, ready to swing it across the room when the doorbell rings.

I stop.

Take a deep breath. Tears sting in my eyes. I can’t deal with anyone else right now, especially not after that conversation with Cassie. Zeke Harrington has me trapped in a gorgeous cage, and my own family is busy tearing strips off me. As if years of abuse from my father and being my mother's puppet wasn't enough. I can't even live my adult life in peace.

“Who is it?” I say, louder than necessary. My voice is shaky, despite my best effort to sound intimidating.

“Room service, ma’am. Compliments of the resort manager,” a smooth, neutral voice answers through the door’s speaker. “A welcome amenity has been sent up for you.”

My mind races. A welcome amenity? Or a subtle message from Zeke? Everything feels poisoned right now. I don’t trust a thing in this suite.

I wipe my eyes quickly. I can’t hide forever, and if it's just room service, maybe I can shoo them away fast. I can't look like I've been crying.

I walk to the door, hesitating with my hand on the latch. I peer through the wide-angle peephole.

It's a young man in a white uniform, holding a large, silver-domed trolley. He’s standing perfectly straight, looking professional and entirely harmless. No sign of Zeke lurking around the corner.

Good.

I undo the latch and open the door just enough to slide my body partially behind it.

“You can leave it right there,” I say flatly, pointing at the small entryway table.

He smiles. “Certainly, ma’am. But I do need to ensure it is correctly placed. It is rather heavy, if you don't mind.”

He pushes the trolley past me, smoothly entering the suite. He wheels it into the living area and stops beside the massive counter. He lifts the silver dome with a flourish, revealing a beautiful, multi-tiered seafood platter and another bottle of champagne.

Food isn't what I need right now, but that looks delicious.

“Is there anything else I can get for you, ma’am?” he asks, turning to face me.

I shake my head quickly. “No. Thank you. That’s all.”

As he starts walking toward the door, he pauses right in front of me, turning serious. He reaches into the breast pocket of his jacket.

I tense, ready to scream or fight.

He pulls out a folded piece of paper—not a receipt, but a card.

“My apologies, ma’am. I was asked to deliver this message discreetly once inside your room.”

He presses the card into my hand. His fingers brush mine—cold and quick. He doesn’t say another word, only gives a nod, turns, and walks out the door.

He closes it softly behind him.

I stare at the card in my hand, hesitating for a minute before unfolding it.

The message is short but disturbing.

[I know you had a difficult call, Claire. I trust this view is a small comfort. You don't have to explore anything yet. We can simply share the same air for now. I'll be in 1402. — Z]

Seriously?!!