Page 73 of The Forbidden Billionaire
“We do,” Ella says. “The photo.”
“What photo?” I ask.
Ella looks at me, startled.
“I hadn’t got around to that,” I advise.
“What photo?” Aurelia demands.
Ella clears her throat. “We intercepted a photo sent to you by text. It turns out it was taken by Dominic.”
Aurelia looks from her to me. “What kind of photograph?”
“Of you lying on the bed,” I say reluctantly.
Her mouth forms an O. “Do I… have any clothes on?”
“No. But you’re on your front, mostly covered by the duvet.”
“You were tied up,” Ella says. I glare at her. I wouldn’t have mentioned that.
Aurelia turns absolutely scarlet. “Oh my God.” She looks at me. “You saw it?”
I give a short nod.
She covers her mouth with her hand and her eyes shine. “Did… my family see it?”
“No,” I reassure her. “I swear. They know about it, but we didn’t show them.”
“Jesus.” She turns and walks a few steps away. “This is like a nightmare.”
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
She turns back to face us. “Why did Dom send it?”
“I don’t think he did,” I say. “I think someone either hacked into his phone or broke into his cloud account and uploaded the photos from it.”
“Photos? Plural?”
“He still had several on there. He hadn’t deleted them.”
She gives a short, humorless laugh. “That fucking bastard.” Her eyes meet mine. “That’s why you went to his office?”
“Yes, to see whether he took them. When I realized he still had them, I wanted to kill him.”
Her expression softens, just a little. Then she looks past me, and I turn to see two police officers entering the building.
I feel a surge of relief. My job was to get her out of any dangerous situation and keep her safe. Technically, my work here is done.
But they’re going to have to use a crow bar to get me away from her. The threat is real, and I’m not leaving her side until this guy is caught.
Chapter Sixteen
Aurelia
I don’t think I’ve breathed since the moment Luke said, “There’s been a break-in.” My brain feels as though it’s rusted solid, the gears grinding and squeaking. It’s taking longer than normal for me to sort out my thoughts.
I have a stalker. The words circle in my brain like tweety birds around the head of a stunned cartoon character. A man has been following me, sending me messages and gifts. It’s unreal. I feel like I’m inThe Truman Show, and I’ve only just realized my life has been a lie.
