The Enemy in My Bed

The vow renewal was beautiful. The guests had gone home. The flowers had been cleared away. The music had faded into silence. Vienna stood in the middle of the empty penthouse, still wearing her white dress, and looked out at the river. Ezra came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "What are you thinking about?" he asked. "I am thinking about how lucky I am." "Lucky?" "Lucky that I found you. Lucky that you loved me. Lucky that we get to spend the rest of our lives together." Ezra kissed her neck. "I am the lucky one." "Are not." "Am too." She laughed. "You are impossible." "I am in love. There is a difference." She turned in his arms and kissed him. "I love you," she said. "I love you too, princess." "Thank you for never giving up on me." "I will never give up on you, Vienna. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever." --- The next few weeks were quiet. Vienna settled into a rhythm. She woke up each morning, made coffee, and worked on her next book. She spe

Three Little Words

The drive home was quiet. Vienna stared out the window and watched the landscape scroll past. Fields. Trees. Small towns. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. It was beautiful. She had not noticed beauty in a long time. She had been too busy surviving. Ezra reached over and took her hand. "Are you okay?" he asked. "I am getting there." "That is not an answer." "It is the only answer I have right now." Ezra squeezed her hand. "That is enough." They drove in silence for a while longer. Vienna watched the sun disappear behind the horizon. The sky turned from orange to purple to black. The stars came out, one by one, scattered across the darkness like diamonds. "I have been thinking," she said finally. "About what?" "About everything. About the auction. About the trial. About Elena. About the foundation. About the book. About us." Ezra glanced at her. "That is a lot of things." "I know. But I have been thinking about one thing in particular." "

Blood on the Marble Floor

The peace lasted exactly three weeks. Vienna had settled into a rhythm. She woke up each morning, made coffee, and worked on her second book. She spent afternoons at the foundation. She had dinner with Ezra and Silas. She slept peacefully in Ezra's arms. The fear that had haunted her for months was finally fading. She was happy. And then the call came. It was a Tuesday afternoon. Vienna was at the foundation, reviewing grant applications, when her phone buzzed. The caller ID showed Silas's name. She answered with a smile. "Hey, little brother. What's up?" "Vi." His voice was strange. Thin. Strained. "I need you to come home." Vienna's smile faded. "What's wrong?" "Just come home. Please." The line went dead. Vienna stared at her phone. Her heart began to pound. Something was wrong. She could feel it in her bones. She grabbed her purse and ran. --- The drive home was a blur. Vienna ran red lights. She sped through intersections. She ignored the honking horns and the shout

Scream My Name

The weeks after Silas's surgery were a blur of hospital visits and sleepless nights and quiet prayers. Vienna moved through them like a ghost, present but not really there. She went through the motions. She made coffee. She answered emails. She sat by Silas's bed and held his hand. But her mind was elsewhere. Trapped in that moment. The moment she had walked into his room and seen him on the floor. The moment she had thought he was dead. She could not shake the image. It played on a loop in her head. The blood. The pale face. The stillness. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw it. Every time she tried to sleep, she saw it. Every time she looked at Silas, she saw it. Ezra noticed. Of course he noticed. He noticed everything about her. "You are not sleeping," he said one night, finding her on the balcony at 3 a.m. "I cannot sleep." "You are not eating." "I am not hungry." "You are not talking." "I do not have anything to say." Ezra crossed the balcony and stood beside her. H

The Other Woman

The memoir was a success. The foundation was thriving. Silas was healthy. Ezra was hers. Vienna should have been content. She should have been at peace. But something was nagging at her. It started small. A nagging feeling in the back of her mind. A whisper that something was not right. She tried to ignore it. She threw herself into her work. She spent long hours at the foundation. She answered emails until her eyes blurred. She planned events and wrote speeches and shook hands with donors. But the whisper would not stop. Ezra noticed. Of course he noticed. He noticed everything about her. "What is wrong?" he asked one evening, finding her on the balcony, staring out at the river. "Nothing." "Liar." She turned to face him. "I do not know what is wrong. I just feel. Off. Like something is not right." Ezra crossed the balcony and stood beside her. "Talk to me." "I cannot explain it. It is just a feeling. A nagging feeling that something is going to happen. Something bad." Ezra

Secrets in the Safe

The weeks after Elena's confession were quiet. Too quiet. Vienna woke each morning, made coffee, and waited for the other shoe to drop. She did not know why. Elena was gone. The threats had stopped. The notes had stopped. The fear should have stopped too. But it had not. She could not shake the feeling that something was still wrong. Something she was missing. Something lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to be discovered. Ezra noticed her restlessness. He tried to reassure her. "Elena is gone. She is not coming back." "I know." "Then why do you still look over your shoulder?" Vienna did not have an answer. --- The answer came on a Friday afternoon. Vienna was in the foundation office, reviewing grant applications, when her phone buzzed. The caller ID showed an unknown number. She almost ignored it. But something made her answer. "Ms. Cross?" A woman's voice. Professional. Calm. "This is Detective Miller from the police department. I am calling regarding the case of