Chapter 8 NO WAY OUT

Liana's POV

The kitchen light buzzed overhead like a dying insect.

I stood frozen, phone in one hand, the black box of lilies still open on the counter. Their scent had turned revolting, the sweetness gone rotten in the small space.

The photo stared up from the screen: me at dawn, rain in my hair, coat clutched like a shield, walking away from the hotel.

Someone had followed me.

Someone had waited across the street with a camera.

It was too grainy but that was me.

My thumb trembled over the reply button.

The second message from the same unknown number sat right above the photo.

My heart slammed so hard I felt it in my throat. I glanced at the window, curtains drawn, but the gap between them showed only wet streetlight and rain-streaked glass. No silhouette. No movement.

Still, the back of my neck crawled.

I set the phone down like it might bite. Breathed. Once. Twice.

Think.

The flowers had arrived after the texts. Same number. Same person.

The only person I could possibly think of is Brian. No, it can't be him or it's it- wait!

Could it be..... Raphael

No, I doubt it.

But even if it was, why the photo? Why not just say "It's me?" Why make it look like surveillance?

Unless he wanted me scared.

Unless he knewI was already scared.

The lilies mocked me from the counter-white petals perfect, stems clipped at sharp angles. Purity. Renewal. Second chances.

I wanted to laugh. Or scream.

Instead I grabbed the box, carried it to the sink, and dumped the flowers in. Water hissed as I turned the tap full blast. Petals swirled down the drain like drowned secrets.

The card fluttered to the floor.

*Hello! Hope you're good?*

I crushed it under my heel.

My phone buzzed again.

I flinched so hard the edge of the counter bit into my hip.

New message. Same number.

"I didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted you to know I was thinking about you."

A pause. Three dots dancing.

Then:

"Can we talk? In person. Just us."

I stared at the words until they blurred.

Just us?

I thought of his mouth on my neck, his hands careful even when they weren't gentle, the way he'd listened-like every word I said mattered. No pressure. No rush.

I believed it then.

Now I didn't know what to believe.

Another buzz.

Tomorrow. The coffee shop on the corner of your street. 8 a.m. I'll wait. If you don't show, I won't contact you again.*

My breath caught.

He knew where I lived.

Of course he did. He'd found my name somehow. LinkedIn. It could be LinkedIn. A quick search. The internet is really helpful.

Right?

The lilies' scent still lingered, faint and accusing.

I picked up the phone. Fingers numb.

I typed one word.

"Why?"

Sent.

The three dots appeared instantly.

"Because one night wasn't enough."

I closed my eyes.

My pulse thundered in my ears.

He didn't know about the rebirth. Didn't know about the poison, the prison, the framed files, the people who'd already tried to erase me once.

He just wanted coffee.

And maybe more.

I opened my eyes.

The kitchen clock ticked past 10:00 p.m.

I had hours to decide.

Go and risk him being part of whatever was closing in.

Or stay away and risk never knowing if the one person who'd made me feel alive again was actually the safest thing in this second chance or the most dangerous.

I looked at the drain. A single white petal clung to the metal, refusing to go down.

My thumb hovered over the keyboard.

Another message came through before I could type.

A single photo.

Not me.

Of a coffee cup. Steam rising. It was black.

His caption:

Table by the window. I'll be waiting.

I laughed short, shocked.

Then the final buzz.

"Please, Liana."

My name in his text felt like a hand on my cheek.

Soft. Dangerous.

I stared at the screen until it dimmed.

One choice.

If I went, I might get answers.

If I didn't...

My phone vibrated once more-not a text this time.

An email notification.

From an internal Blaise Corps address I didn't recognize.

Subject: Access Violation Alert – Immediate Review Required

My stomach plummeted.

I opened it.

The body was short.

Your workstation has triggered an automated security flag. All elevated permissions suspended pending audit. Report to Graham McFadden's office at 09:00 tomorrow. Failure to attend will result in immediate disciplinary action.

Attached: a screenshot of my login activity.

Timestamps matching the ones I'd flagged yesterday.

And one new entry.

Logged in at 02:47 a.m.

From my home IP.

I hadn't touched my work laptop since 7 p.m.

Someone was inside my system.

Right now.

The lilies' last petal finally slipped down the drain.

I looked at Raphael's last message. Then at the email.

Two invitations.

Two traps.

One night to choose which one would kill me first.

I picked up the phone.

Fingers steady now.

I typed three words.

"I'll be there."

Sent.

Then I turned off the kitchen light.Darkness swallowed the room.

But not the sound of my heartbeat.

Or the quiet certainty that tomorrow morning, everything would change.

Again.