Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“What the fuck?” I felt ill.
Evan nodded grimly. “I will never be able to bleach some of that shit out of my head. Ever.”
I winced on his behalf.
“And Lore will want a big fat bonus because I had to send her into the chat to trace the fucker from there.”
“Who is it?” Walker asked impatiently.
Evan shook his head, expression apologetic. “His name is Peter Pryor.”
“That doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Eilidh’s landlord in London. The pervert planted the cameras himself.”
My mind raced in horror at the thought of that bastard watching Eilidh. For ages. For maybe as long as she’d lived in the apartment. I wanted him in front of me so I could eviscerate him.
“A quick look into records shows that it wasn’t the landlord who ordered the annual smoke alarm check. The smoke alarms were fritzing and the new tenant, for whatever reason, had an outside company come in to check the alarms. They found the cameras. Peter was just covering his arse calling Eilidh to let her know.”
“And you know this for a fact?”
Evan sighed. “Lore hacked his computer. Lots of disturbing stuff on there. We didn’t make a move, but if you’re happy to, we’ll hand over what we found to the police.”
“Do you know … are the recordings of Eilidh on there?”
My friend’s features tightened with anger. “Aye, they’re on there. Lore says organized by … activity.”
My hands curled into fists as Walker bit out an angry curse.
Before I could respond or think past the black wrath in my mind, my phone let out a very specific alarm.
No.
A chill slithered down my spine.
“Fuck!” I yanked my phone out of my pocket, the security app open and flashing the alert. Blood rushed in my ears. “Someone just broke into my house.”
Thirty-One
EILIDH
To my relief, it seemed Millie was already over her earache. There was some grouchiness when Fyfe left for work, but it didn’t last long. I fed her a bit of fruit while I ate my breakfast, and since we were stuck in the house, I let Millie crawl for a while. She liked to be on the go, so I cleared the way for her to explore a little. To my delight, she kept pulling herself up to standing, grabbing onto the couch or my legs. I’d taken her hand and steadied her as she attempted to walk.
Tears burned in my eyes and I wondered if she’d done this for Fyfe yet or if I was witnessing her first attempt at walking.
I couldn’t wait to tell him.
It was around lunchtime, Millie was down for a nap, and I was making a snack. The TV was on low in the background with a rom-com playing on a streaming app. So okay, yes, I couldn’t get Fyfe’s words from this morning out of my mind and I was fluttery with nerves and anticipation for his return, and totally confused about … everything.
However, other than that, the moment was calm. My life felt beautifully ordinary and sweet and safe, and it made me happier than any time I’d spent on the set of the show.
I was just thinking how I knew for certain I’d made the right decision walking away from acting when the doorbell rang.
The hair on my neck rose. Attempting to tell myself my reaction was based on Cameron’s behavior and nothing else, I tapped on the wall-mounted security panel before the entrance hall. It was connected to the camera outside.
What the … It was Peter. My landlord.
I hadn’t had many dealings with Peter in person. I reckoned he was in his early forties. Kind of nondescript, dressed casually but drove a flashy car. I remembered seeing him pull away from the apartment building in an Aston Martin Vantage. A neighbor had told me Peter owned a ton of real estate and was super well off. He’d always been kind and amiable to me. Though I’d heard he was ruthless when it came to rent. He didn’t give people many chances. You didn’t pay your rent on time, you were out.
I always paid my rent on time so we never had issues. If there was a maintenance problem with the flat, he’d come to speak to me about it directly if I was home, but that was it.
What the hell was he doing here? And at Fyfe’s?
That instinct that had risen the hair on the back of my neck had me pressing the speaker button on the security system instead of opening the door.
“Peter? It’s Eilidh. What are you doing here?”
“Eilidh, luv, thank goodness I found you. We got a big problem. Didn’t want to take the chance calling you in case my phone was tapped. I know who’s been watching you. Can you let me in?”
My heart thumped hard. “How … how did you know where to find me?”