Shadows of the Past

Adrian’s mansion no longer felt safe.

Even with guards stationed at the gates and security cameras blinking red across every corridor, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.

And not just in passing. Watched—closely. Studied.

Like someone was learning my every move.

The next morning, Adrian was already on the phone before I got downstairs. He paced the kitchen, his voice low and sharp.

“I don’t care how much it costs. I want full digital surveillance around the house. Every door, every blind spot, every wire. If a leaf moves, I want to know about it.”

He turned when he saw me, his gaze softening just slightly. “You sleep?”

“Barely,” I admitted.

He nodded toward the table. “Eat something.”

There was food laid out—toast, scrambled eggs, and coffee—but I couldn’t touch it. Not with my stomach twisting the way it was.

“Ivy,” he said, stepping closer. “I need you to be strong now. Things are about to get worse before they get better.”

I forced myself to meet his eyes. “How worse?”

His jaw tightened. “Monroe isn’t the type to back down. He’ll push until something breaks. I just don’t know what—or who—he’ll aim for next.”

That answer haunted me for the rest of the day.

By evening, the house had turned into a fortress. New cameras were installed, Adrian’s private team was sweeping the perimeter every hour, and I wasn’t allowed outside without someone following me.

Still, the fear lingered.

Adrian had left again for a confidential meeting, promising to be back before dark. Elena stayed close, trying to distract me with stories of her childhood and tales from her time working for Adrian. But my mind wandered constantly.

And that’s when I saw it.

A shadow.

In the reflection of the hallway mirror.

I turned quickly—nothing there.

My breath caught in my throat.

“Did you see that?” I asked Elena.

She shook her head. “See what?”

I pointed to the far end of the hallway. “There was someone standing there. Just for a second.”

She hesitated, then walked with me toward the area. We checked the guest rooms. The closets. Even under the staircase.

Nothing.

“Maybe I imagined it,” I whispered.

But I didn’t believe that—and neither did she.

That night, Adrian returned later than expected. He looked tense, but alert, as if he’d been fighting shadows all day and didn’t win.

He pulled me aside immediately. “We need to talk.”

We sat in his office, the door locked behind us.

“There’s something I didn’t tell you,” he began.

I stiffened. “What?”

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck before continuing. “Julian Monroe isn’t just threatening you.”

My breath hitched.

“He’s threatening my company. My board. He’s using legal pressure—false accusations, regulatory complaints, threats of leaks to the press. All because of you.”

“Because of me?” I stood up, pacing the room. “I didn’t ask you to get involved, Adrian. I told you he was dangerous.”

“I don’t regret helping you,” he said firmly. “But I need you to understand—this isn’t about you running away anymore. This is war. And he plays dirty.”

I sank back into the chair. “What do we do?”

“We make the first move.”

He reached into his desk and pulled out a file.

“What is that?” I asked.

“Everything we know about Julian’s off-record dealings. Daniels found evidence of shell companies, offshore accounts, backdoor contracts. If we leak this carefully, it could destroy his reputation.”

I frowned. “Leak it? You want to expose him publicly?”

“Not directly. Not yet. But we need to rattle him—make him feel like he’s losing control.”

I stared at the file. Part of me felt vindicated. But another part was terrified. “What if he retaliates?”

Adrian gave me a look. “He already is.”

Suddenly, the house alarm went off.

A shrill, piercing scream of sound that made my heart stop.

Adrian bolted from the room. I followed close behind.

Guards were already rushing to the east wing of the house. I heard the sound of glass breaking—then silence.

One of the guards shouted, “Someone’s breached the fence. They triggered motion sensors near the garden but slipped away before we got there.”

Adrian swore under his breath.

“They’re testing us,” he muttered. “Checking how fast we respond.”

I was shaking. “This isn’t just a game to him anymore.”

“No,” Adrian said. “This is a warning.”

Back inside, I retreated to the guest room and locked the door behind me. My hands were trembling as I dug out the flash drive from beneath my pillow.

I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t sit in fear anymore.

That night, I opened my laptop and began compiling everything on Julian Monroe. The emails. The payments. The threats. Each click brought back memories I wanted to forget—but I pushed through.

I created a backup copy. Encrypted it. Sent it to a secure drive Adrian had told me about.

If anything happened to me, I wanted someone to know the truth.

A cold wind blew through the cracks of the windowpane, and I turned quickly.

Nothing there.

But my gut screamed that someone was watching again.

I got into bed fully dressed that night, my heart still racing.

I stared at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come, but it never did.

And somewhere, just beyond the edge of the property, a figure watched from the shadows—waiting for the perfect time to strike.