Twisted Lies: A Fake Dating Romance
Twisted Lies: Chapter 13

I’d slept a total of three hours last night. The anticipation of Kage’s hourly texts made anything more impossible, and I’d crashed that morning after he confirmed Stella got through the night okay.

I lived by my systems. Seven hours of sleep a night, evening workouts three times a week in my private gym, and complex work and important meetings in the morning when I was sharpest, followed by duller tasks in the afternoon.

My discipline had catapulted me to where I was today—CEO of a Fortune 500 company with a vast intelligence network and a direct line to almost every major power player in the world.

In the span of twenty-four hours, Stella had thrown those systems into complete disarray.

I’d slept until noon, rescheduled my meetings for after lunch, and skipped my workout so I could do a more thorough scan of her apartment for secret cameras or surveillance devices before she returned home.

My disrupted schedule should’ve pissed me off, but the rush in my blood when her front door opened felt a lot less like anger and a lot more like anticipation.

Despite my vow to stay away from her, her absence proved more of a distraction than her presence. I’d spent all day hounding Brock for updates until I caved and texted her myself.

I leaned against the wall as Stella stepped inside, her head bent over her phone.

“Security tip number one: don’t look down at your phone until you’re in a secure location.”

She jumped and screamed until she saw me.

“Christian!” She placed a hand over her chest, her face two shades paler than usual. “What are you doing here?”

“Scanning your apartment for hidden cameras. There are none,” I added when she paled further.

“You can’t enter my apartment without notice! That’s an invasion of privacy.”

“Privacy doesn’t exist when it comes to security.” Everyone wanted privacy until they were in trouble. Then they gave up keys and passwords like they were nothing.

I’d merely skipped the inevitable back and forth with Stella about access and jumped straight to the protection part.

“Sounds like something a tyrant would say.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

Her glare lit the air between us with aggravation. “Christian, let me put it in plain terms. It is illegal for you to enter private homes without prior permission, even if you own the building.”

Hmm. I suppose it was.

Too bad I gave zero fucks about the law.

Legality did not mean right, and illegality did not mean wrong. One only had to look at the fucked-up justice system to realize the law was nothing more than a house of cards, created to give its citizens a false sense of security and weakened by doorways open only to a select few.

I had to keep up the appearance of a civil, law-abiding citizen, but as anyone knew, appearances can be deceiving.

And sometimes, we had to take justice into our own hands.

“Do you know how…” Stella’s knuckles turned white around her phone. “Do you know how many nightmares I’ve had of coming home to replace an intruder in my house? Of being attacked while I’m in the shower or sleeping? Our homes are supposed to be our safe havens, but I…” The tiny crack of her voice caused a strange twist in my chest. “How can I feel safe knowing someone could walk in here any minute and I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t…”

Her words gave way to shallow, panting breaths. I could see the anxiety blooming in her eyes until the black of her pupils swallowed the green of her irises.

Fuck.

I’d known she might get upset, but I also figured she’d want someone looking out for her. Take the reins and handle her security so she didn’t have to worry about it. I wanted—no, needed—to watch over her.

It was a rare miscalculation on my part.

I rubbed a thumb over the face of my watch, strangely restless from both my error and Stella’s palpable distress. Figuring her out was a constant challenge.

A tight sensation unfurled in my chest until I had to push myself off the wall and walk toward her to ease its grip.

“You are safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.” I placed my hands on her shoulders, steadying her. “Stella. It won’t happen again. Now breathe for me.”

I softened the edge of my voice from a command to a request.

The air was thick with recrimination, and something sharp and foreign pierced my gut at the tiny shivers wracking her body.

What was it? Guilt? Remorse? Regret?

I couldn’t tell, so I focused on Stella instead.

“That’s it,” I murmured when her breathing finally evened out and color returned to her face. “Just like that.”

She closed her eyes and exhaled one last deep breath before she stepped back. A chill set in at the loss of warmth.

“I know you’re trying to help, and I appreciate it,” she said. “But you have to let me know what’s happening. This is my life.”

A brief pause before I answered. “I understand.”

“Thank you.”

Just like that, the tension in the air dissolved.

Stella’s ability to release a grudge as quickly as she picked it up was as baffling as it was impressive.

I never forgot a slight. Ever.

“You said you had updates for me. Did you replace who sent the note?” Her hopeful voice sent a pang through my chest.

“Not yet.” My jaw flexed. The forensic analysis had turned up nothing. “But we’ll replace him. Don’t worry.”

I tilted my head toward the couch and waited until Stella was seated before I got down to business. “You said last night wasn’t the first time you’ve received such a note. Tell me what happened before.”

In order to track the asshole down, I needed as much intel as possible. Information was gold, and right now, I was grasping at straws.

“Don’t leave anything out,” I added. “Even the smallest details can be important.”

Stella twisted her necklace around her finger, her expression distracted. Several beats passed before she finally spoke.

“It started two years ago,” she said in a low voice. “I came home one day and found the first letter in my mailbox. It was mostly about how beautiful they thought I was and how they’d like to take me on a date. I was freaked out that they knew where I lived, but the content wasn’t particularly alarming. It sounded like something a high schooler would write to his secret crush. But the letters kept coming, and he started including candid pictures of me along with them. That was when I really freaked out. I installed a new security system and bought a taser, but I still didn’t feel like it was enough. Every time I left or entered my house, I…”

A small bob disrupted the delicate lines of her throat. “I was living with Jules at the time, which helped a bit. But I was also worried about her getting caught in the crossfire if anything happened. I told her about the notes and she insisted we go to the police, but they were dismissive of the whole thing. They basically told me to stop posting so much about my life and whereabouts on social media if I didn’t want creeps reaching out to me.”

Her voice grew smaller with each word, as did her posture until she was curled up in a sitting fetal position.

I didn’t have to be a mind reader to read the subtext.

A part of her thought those bastards had a point.

“Did they?” My soft response belied the cold burn of anger invading my veins.

It was time I paid the Chief Superintendent a call.

“The stalker stopped soon after, so I guess it doesn’t matter.” Stella twisted her necklace tighter around her finger.

“It does matter. The police had a job, and they didn’t do it.” My muscles tightened at the uncertainty in her eyes. “What they said was bullshit. It’s not your fault. Millions of people post every fucking thing they do on social media every day. It doesn’t mean they’re inviting people to harass them. Would you blame a woman for being assaulted if she was wearing a short skirt?”

She flinched. “Of course not.”

“Exactly. People make their own choices. You have the right to live your life how you want without worrying about creeps who can’t curb their worst impulses.”

“I know. I just…” Stella faltered, then shook her head. “I know.”

She was quiet for a moment before she gave me a tentative smile that thawed some of the ice in my blood. “That was the most I’ve heard you curse since we met.”

A short laugh wound past the dimming rage in my chest and into the air.

“Sometimes, the situation calls for it.” I held out my arm. “Come here, Butterfly.”

I disliked comforting people almost as much as I disliked having them in my personal space, but considering everything she’d gone through, I could bend my rules this one time.

And all the previous times you’ve bent the rules for her, a voice inside my head taunted. What happened to staying away from her? Hmm?

I shoved the voice into a metal box in the darkest recesses of my mind and slammed the lid shut.

Smug bastard.

After a brief hesitation, Stella scooted closer until I could pull her into my lap. She didn’t resist, and warmth glided across my skin as I ran a thumb over the elegant line of her jaw.

“Do you still have the letters from two years ago?” I asked.

The more physical evidence I had, the better.

She nodded. “They’re in my bedroom. I can get them.”

“Good. I’ll get them later.” I wasn’t quite ready to let her go yet. I couldn’t remember the last time someone sat in my lap, but the sensation was oddly soothing.

“I hate this.” Stella’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I hate feeling helpless. I wish I knew what he wanted. He’s always talking about what he…what he’d like to do to me, but as far as I know, he’s never approached me. None of the guys who’ve hit on me seem like they’re capable of stalking and harassment, but I guess we never know.” A small tremble rippled down her spine. “He was gone for years, and now he’s back. Why?”

That, I had an answer to. “Because of me. Look at the timing,” I said in response to her visible confusion. “You posted a photo of us on social media—your first time officially announcing a boyfriend. A few days later, he sends you a note saying you should’ve waited for him. I don’t know where he went these past two years, but it’s obvious our relationship triggered him.”

The simplest explanation was usually the correct one, and the sequence of events lined up too perfectly to be a coincidence.

“Oh, God.” Stella’s face drained of color. “Does that mean I should stop posting about us? What if he escalates things next time?”

“No,” I said firmly. “We’ll ramp up your security, but we need new posts to draw him out. The sooner we replace him, the sooner we can put the bastard behind bars.” Or six feet in the ground. “Trust me.” I rested a reassuring hand on her back even as my muscles coiled at the thought of anyone threatening her. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Not even if I had to take a bullet myself.

“Right. That makes sense.” Stella drew in a deep breath before another frown touched her face. “What if…”

I waited, curiosity brewing at the rising color on her cheeks.

“What if he comes after you and you get hurt?”

A fire sparked in my chest, so suddenly and unexpectedly it would’ve brought me to my knees had I been standing.

My pulse drummed at the unfamiliar warmth sluicing through my veins, but I kept my face impassive as I curled a hand around the back of her neck.

“I can take care of myself, but your concern is duly noted.” My words lengthened into a drawl. “I didn’t realize you cared that much about my safety.”

“I don’t care. I mean, I do, but I…you know what I mean.”

“I’m not sure I do.”

I held back a laugh at her adorable growl of frustration. “You’re insufferable.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

Stella sat sideways on my lap, so close I could count every lash framing those beautiful green eyes and spot the tiny mole behind her right shoulder.

Warmth, light, and grace, all wrapped up in a perfect package and sitting right there for me to take.

Desire coursed through my veins, but I forced it at bay. Despite our banter, Stella’s muscles remained tense, and her lips were raw from how hard she was biting them.

She wasn’t as calm as she pretended to be.

Our moral compasses pointed in different directions, but we both wore masks to shield our true natures from the world.

The only difference was our motives behind the deception and the lies we told ourselves.

Stella lifted her chin. “I’m sure you’ve been called all sorts of things, but you’re not as scary as you want people to think you are, Christian Harper.”

My eyes narrowed. “No?”

“You lowered my rent, agreed to be my fake boyfriend, and you’re helping me replace the stalker for free. Those aren’t the actions of someone heartless.”

If she only knew.

“I didn’t do them out of pure selflessness.”

“Maybe not the first two, but what are you getting out of helping me with the stalker?” she challenged.

“The world thinks you’re my girlfriend. Can’t have anything happen to you or it’d look bad for me.” The lie slipped as easily from my tongue as my own name. “I’m the CEO of a security company, after all.”

That, and a world without Stella in it was one that didn’t deserve to exist.

My hunger to piece together her puzzle tethered me to sanity and fed the tiny part of me that still believed in goodness and humanity.

It was the order to my chaos, the flame to my ice.

Without it, I would be unmoored, and that would be the ultimate danger—both to myself and the people around me.

Doubt crept into Stella’s eyes. “Is that the only reason why?” She sounded less sure than she had a minute ago.

My hand stilled on the back of her neck.

The air between us stretched so taut it vibrated against my skin, and the sudden change in atmosphere dragged us into a place where there was no threatening note, no stalker, and no fake arrangement.

There was just the weight of her on my lap, the scent of her in my lungs, and the warmth of her in my soul.

It was raw, real, and so fucking addicting.

“Do you want there to be another reason?” A question and a challenge, disguised by a cloak of softness.

Stella’s lips parted with a soft, audible exhale. A dozen unspoken words consumed that single breath, and I wanted to keep every one of them for myself, to hoard them close to my chest the way a dragon guarded its treasure.

But instead of giving me the hit I so desperately craved, she gave a slow shake of her head.

“Don’t lie to me, Stella.” I rubbed my thumb over the back of her neck in a lazy, languid stroke.

The sound of her swallow filled the space between us.

Her teeth dug into her lush lower lip, and the desire to pull her hair back and plunder the softness of her mouth consumed me.

Just one taste.

The reasoning of an addict desperate for his next fix.

I’d never tasted her—yet—but I imagined she’d be even sweeter than in my imagination.

Our breaths thundered together in an erratic drumbeat.

One taste. Then I could sate this ceaseless hunger inside me.

One taste, and—

A sharp ring snapped the taut air in half and left me with whiplash.

Stella’s eyes widened a fraction before she scrambled off my lap like I’d suddenly caught fire.

Dammit.

Irritation solidified in my chest at the interruption as I stood and picked up the call. I walked to the corner of the room and turned my back so she couldn’t see the displeasure darkening my face.

“This better be important.”

“It is. I’ve got intel that Rutledge might jump ship to Sentinel.” Kage wasted no time beating around the bush. “Not fucking good, especially after the Deacon and Beatrix situation. People are going to talk.”

My irritation intensified.

Unlike Deacon and Beatrix, Rutledge was one of our biggest accounts. Losing him would be unacceptable.

“Explain.”

I switched gears to business mode as Kage laid out what he’d heard. The executive security world was a small one, and one could learn a lot if they had eyes and ears in the right places.

“It’s not confirmed yet,” he said after he finished. “But I figured you’d want to know. If he leaves…”

“He won’t.” Rutledge’s exit wouldn’t be a fatal blow, but it would make Harper Security look weak. And in my circles, showing weakness was akin to pouring blood into a shark pool. “I’ll have a talk with him. In the meantime, keep an eye on Sentinel. I want to know if anyone on the team so much as fucking sneezes.”

They were up to something. Once was luck and twice was coincidence, but three times? That was a pattern, and not one I particularly liked.

“You got it,” Kage said.

I hung up, my mind already working through the implications of losing another account to Sentinel. I wouldn’t, of course. I knew Rutledge well, including his weak spots. But I always liked to have a backup plan in case everything went south.

One of these days, I’d have to take care of Sentinel for good.

Should’ve wiped out their entire damn system like I’d wanted.

It’d take more work, but I could hide my tracks well enough that no one could pinpoint me as the culprit.

“Is everything okay?” Stella’s voice pulled me out of my musings. “That sounded intense.

“Yes.” I smoothed my expression into placidness before I turned. “Just a hiccup at work. Nothing important.”

If I were alone, I would’ve already put the pieces for Sentinel’s demise in motion. Since I wasn’t, and I was with Stella, I set those pieces aside.

For now.

“I hope you’re not planning a competitor’s ruin,” she said solemnly. “That would be a bit heavy for a Friday night.”

I almost smiled, both because she’d unerringly hit the nail on the head and because I spotted a glimmer of her usual sparkle in her eyes.

She’d regained her composure during my call. The rosiness had dissipated from her cheeks, and she was curled up on the couch next to that stupid purple unicorn with a faint curve of her lips.

“Don’t worry. I keep the destruction to business hours, Monday through Friday.” I raised a brow at the mischief in her growing smile. “Care to share the joke?”

The sparkle in her eyes brightened. “Check my Stories.”

“I don’t have social media.” The lie rolled off my tongue, though technically, it wasn’t a lie.

Christian Harper didn’t have social media; CP612 did.

“Seriously?” Stella shook her head. “We’ll have to fix that, but for now….” She typed something into her phone. “Check your texts.”

I opened her message, and I had to blink twice to make sure I was seeing correctly.

She’d sent a screenshot of a Stories poll. A picture of me, back turned and phone to my ear, took up the left side of the screen; a familiar purple unicorn dominated the right side.

The question was simple: Who would you rather cuddle with? Mr. Harper or Mr. Unicorn?

“You’re losing, by the way,” Stella said. “Mr. Unicorn is beating you fifty-three to forty-seven percent.”

I stared at her, sure I was hearing wrong and that she didn’t have the fucking audacity to pit me against a raggedy stuffed animal with a crooked eye in some absurd social media poll.

I was also sure I couldn’t be losing to said stuffed animal.

“The poll must be broken because that’s ridiculous.” I tried not to sound as insulted as I felt.

“It’s not, but you have twenty-three hours and fifty-one minutes to catch up.” Stella’s smile dimmed, and a touch of nerves resurfaced in her eyes. “Draw him out with more posts, right?”

Her stalker.

She may not be willing to admit the attraction between us, but she trusted me enough to take my recommendation implicitly.

I blamed the fleeting ache in my chest on heartburn. My doctor was going to have his hands full during our next checkup.

“That’s right. And for the record…” I tapped my phone screen. “You need followers with better taste if they’re choosing a unicorn over me. I’m wearing Brioni, for fuck’s sake.”

Stella’s laugh finally pulled a smile out of me.

Despite what happened two nights ago, her light still shone through, and she was more resilient than a lot of people, including myself, gave her credit for.

That’s my girl.