All Chapters of Betrayed by design: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The morning started quietly, the kind that made every small sound feel louder than it should. Sloane Blackwell stood at the tall windows in the master bedroom, both hands wrapped around a mug of chamomile. She stared out at the city waking up, pale light slipped across the glass and catching in her dark hair while tracing slow circles along the rim of the mug with her thumb. She hadn’t slept much, maybe two hours while she spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling.Her phone lay face-down on the nightstand. She had placed it there deliberately last night as if that would change anything and she hadn’t touched it yet. Down the street, a yellow taxi slowed at the intersection, hesitated, then turned and disappeared around the corner. Across the street, a rooftop garden caught her eyes, someone had strung fairy lights along the railing. They glowed faintly and she let herself stare at them for a moment while she imagined what it would feel like to care about nothing heavier th

The silence in the penthouse at night had it’s own stillness. Notthe dead quite of an empty building, just… settled. Damon noticed that the same way he noticed most things. He stood just inside the front door with security panel to his left, the lights in the hallway were low. That was his first sign that she was awake. In the two weeks he had been around, Sloane is not a woman who left lights on in empty rooms. She was precise, economical, he had learned that about her. He unclipped the panel cover and ran the check the way he always did; motion sensors, door contacts, window locks on the east and west wings, the service entrance at the back of the kitchenStill, he checked twice. He was reaching to re-clip the panel when he saw the lightcoming from the far end of the living room.Sloane was sitting sideways in the armchair closest to the window with her legs tucked underneath her. She was wearing an oversized cream-colored sweater and dark trouser, her loosely falling past her sh

Sloane stood in the doorway, staring at the space with her arms crossed over her chest. The gym in the basement of the safe house was not large—just enough for a heavy bag in the corner, a row of mirrors along one wall, a little warped at the edges. The floor was padded but worn with one bulb overhead buzzed faintly above it all. She didn’t step in right away. “Are you coming in?” Damon said.He had his back to her, adjusting the wrap around his right hand.“I’m considering my options,” she said glancing at him. “You don’t have many.” He finished the wrap then turned, “You’re late.” “I didn’t agree to a time.” “You didn’t agree to anything.” His eyes moved over her, quick but not careless. She stepped inside and let the door shut behind her. “And yet here I am.” Her clothes were simple, black leggings with a white tank, hair pulled back with few strands loose around her face. She didn’t make an effort to make this look like anything other than what it was. Damon walked to the

The envelope was manila and unsealed, sitting on the kitchen counter when Sloane came downstairs. Sloane almost missed it. She came downstairs half-awake, still tying the sleeve of her sweater at the wrist, hair damp and loose around her shoulders. The kitchen felt too bright. Mornings had been like that lately—sharp, unfinished, like she’d walked into them halfway through. She reached for the coffee maker and pressed the buttonbefore anything else.Then she saw Damon standing at the counter with his arms crossed, already looking at her and she knew before she even picked up the envelop that whatever was inside it was going to change the shape of the day.Sloane pulled out the barstool and sat down across from him. “That’s for me,” she said, nodding at the envelope. “Yes.” She looked at it for a second longer. “How bad?” Damon didn’t answer right away. “I want you to look at it first.”She let out a slow breath. “Damon.” “Look at it first.” A small pause. She reached across

The message came in at nine forty-seven in the morning.Sloane saw the screen light come up with a notification, herphone face-up on the coffee table and she knew who it was before checking. She walked over and picked up the phone.Sloane. I know you probably don’t want to hear from me. I wouldn’t blame you if you deleted this without reading it, but I need to talk to you. In person. Please. — LSloane read it twice then she set the phone face-down on the coffee table and stood very still for a moment, looking at nothing.Damon came in from the hallway carrying two bottles of water and reading her expression before he was fully through the door. Something about him always noticed —just the trained attentiveness of a man who had made a career out of noticing when something had shifted.“What happened?” he said.Sloane picked up the phone and held it out to him without a word.He took it and read the message. His jaw didn’t move is expression didn’t change in the obvious way. But someth