Chapter 128 128. Stalk Rhys
A fist connected with Rhys's jaw before I could process what was happening. The crack echoed even over the music. Rhys went down hard, finally freeing my wrist, glasses skittering across the floor.
Lucien stood over him, chest heaving, knuckles already reddening. Security surrounded the scene within seconds. Two large men in black pulled Lucien back while another helped Rhys to his feet.
"What the hell?" One of the security guards looked between them.
"He grabbed her," Lucien growled, shaking off their hands.
All eyes turned to me. I was still frozen. My wrist throbbed where Rhys had gripped it.
"He wouldn't let go," I managed. "I asked him to let go and he wouldn't."
Damon pushed through the gathering crowd, taking in the scene. "Camila? What happened?"
"Your 'acquaintance' got handsy," Lucien said, voice dripping with contempt.
Rhys touched his bleeding lip, looking up at me with eyes that held something I couldn't quite name. Not anger. Not even embarrassment. Something else that made my skin crawl.
"You'll regret this," he said quite softly for someone who just got punched, still staring at me. "You'll both regret this, Lucien Hayes."
Now my insides felt worse. That softness, it reminded me of Ronan. It was always dangerous when Ronan spoke softly.
"Get him out," the head security guard ordered. "Now."
They escorted Rhys toward the exit, but he kept turning back, kept trying to catch my eye. His lips were moving, saying something I couldn't hear over the music.
Lucien was in front of me immediately, hands cupping my face. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"
I shook my head, even though my wrist still ached. "I'm fine."
"I'm so sorry," Damon ran a hand through his hair. "I had no idea he was going to-I don't even know him. He must have come with someone else."
"You don't know him?" I asked.
"I mean, the invites I gave someone specific people had a 'plus one'." Damon looked genuinely distressed. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah." But my voice shook. "I just want to go home."
Lucien held my hand as we headed for the exit. Damon walked with us, still apologizing.
"I'll find out who brought him," he promised. "And I'll make sure he's never allowed anywhere near any of us."
In the car, I couldn't stop replaying Rhys's words. The way he'd said he was in love with me, the way he spoke about me like he'd known me forever instead of five minutes.
"He knew too much."
Lucien glanced over from the driver's seat. "What?"
"He knew I was a writer and a business analyst. He knew about the viral video, about the fake relationship, about the legal troubles. How did he know all that?"
"The internet, probably. Your story was everywhere for a while."
"But he called it a fake relationship. Why would he say that? That was never on the Internet."
Lucien's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Because he's a creep who can't keep his hands to himself when he sees a beautiful woman. That's all he is, Fiera. Some obsessive asshole who crossed a line."
I wanted to believe him, but Rhys's intensity, his certainty, bothered me. I pulled out my phone and texted Damon.
"Can you send me the security footage from outside the club? From when people were arriving?"
His response came quickly. "Sure. Give me a few hours to get it from the venue."
"I just asked Damon for the security footage."
"Why do you need the footage?"
"I just want to see him arrive. See if he was alone or with someone."
"Camila-"
"Please. It'll make me feel better."
He sighed but didn't argue.
The footage came through way past midnight. I was still wide awake, curled up in bed with my phone while Lucien slept beside me.
I scrolled through the timestamp until I found it. Rhys' figure approached the entrance alone, wire-rimmed glasses and still in simple clothes. I screenshot his face, then opened an image search.
Results loaded almost instantly.
Rhys Blackwood. Tech entrepreneur. Founder and CEO of Cipher Solutions, a cybersecurity company he'd started three years ago. Net worth estimated at thirty million.
My heart rate slowed slightly. So he was rich and successful, not just some random stalker. Maybe Lucien was right. Maybe he was just a creep who saw me at the club and got too forward.
I clicked through to his social media. It was mostly professional-photos at tech conferences, shots of his office, the occasional artsy picture of city skylines-but there were a few casual photos of him.
I kept scrolling and scrolling, looking for... I don't know.
"You're stalking him now?"
I jumped. Lucien was awake, propped up on one elbow, watching me. How was I so invested that I didn't hear or feel him moving?
"I'm not stalking him. I'm doing my research."
"At midnight, while obsessively scrolling through his photos." His voice held amusement. "Should I be jealous?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm just curious."
"Mm-hmm." He reached over and plucked the phone from my hands. "Enough."
"Lucien-"
He pulled me against his chest, one arm wrapping around my waist. "He's nobody. A tech bro with more money than sense who made you uncomfortable. That's it."
I wanted to argue. But his heartbeat was steady under my ear, and the warmth of his body was already pulling me toward sleep.
"I just have a bad feeling," I murmured.
"I know." He pressed a kiss to my hair. "But you're safe. I've got you."
I traced the tattoo on his forearm. The intricate lines and shading I knew by heart now. My fingers followed the pattern up to his bicep, across to his chest.
He made a low sound when I found his nipple. I bit down gently.
"Careful," he warned. "Or neither of us is sleeping tonight."
"Would that be so bad?" I looked up at him through my lashes.
His eyes darkened. "Dangerous question, Fiera."
I shifted, pressing closer. "Remember those toys we bought?"
"The items we haven't touched yet?" His hand slid down my spine. "What about them?"
"Think we should actually use them sometime?"
"Depends." His fingers played with the hem of my sleep shirt. "What are you willing to try?"
"I don't know." A flush crept up my neck. "The blindfold seemed... interesting."
"Interesting." He rolled us over, settling between my legs. "That's one word for it."
"What would you call it?"
"Essential." He kissed my neck, and my hands went to his hair immediately. "I want to see you fall apart when you can't see what's coming next."
My breath caught. "What else?"
"The restraints." His teeth grazed my collarbone. "Tying you up so you can't touch yourself. Making you beg for release."
"That's cruel."
"That's foreplay." He looked up, eyes molten. "What about you? What do you want to do to me?"
I thought about the toys we'd picked out. "That cock ring looked... educational."
He groaned, dropping his forehead to my shoulder. "You're going to kill me."
"That's the plan."
We kept talking, voices getting quieter as exhaustion crept in. About boundaries and desires. About trust and experimentation. About how far we'd come from that first fake relationship to this-real and raw and right.
"I love you, Fiera." He gathered me closer. "Even when you stalk men on the internet at midnight."
"I wasn't stalking-"
"Shh." He kissed me quiet. "Sleep."
So I did. Wrapped in his arms, listening to his breathing even out, feeling safer than I had any right to feel.
Not knowing that the bad feeling in my gut was right.
Not knowing that this was just the beginning...