Chapter 9 I Never Gave You Permission to Know Me

She didn't scream or cry when the video ended.

She just sat there, still, hollow, like her bones had vanished and left only skin and shame behind. Her breath came in shallow slips, her heartbeat stumbling through her chest like it wasn't sure how to survive in a world where she was visible - not just seen, but studied, stretched bare on a screen for someone to pause, rewind, slow down.

She yanked the flash drive from her laptop and hurled it across the room. It hit the edge of her sock drawer and bounced, landed facing up, as if it were smirking at her. Her knees shook as she stood.

Who the hell had filmed them?

Her first instinct whispered Dorian - and her second hated her for it. But the thought burrowed in anyway. He had the money. The reach. A past paved with secrets and favors. That car had always felt too quiet, too insulated, too good at hiding things. Had he done this before? Did he get off on watching her fall apart after the fact?

She forced the thought out, grabbed her phone.

Missed calls.

Two was from him and the other one from a private number.

And then the texts started.

Dorian: Why aren't you answering me?

UNKNOWN: You looked so good on top of him.

Tessa dropped the phone.

Her stomach twisted, hard, sharp, wrong. She ran to the window and yanked the blinds closed. Checked the door - locked. The closet - empty. Under the bed - nothing. But the room still felt full.

Her skin burned like it remembered being watched. Like it knew someone else had memorized it from behind glass. Like someone had been breathing behind a lens while she moaned a man's name and thought it was just the two of them.

She dropped to the floor, hand over her mouth, breath coming fast and panicked in the dark.

This wasn't sex anymore. It was surveillance...it was war.

---

"Tess," Zara's voice cut through the hallway, soft but tight. "Did you open your door last night?"

Tessa froze. "No."

"I found it cracked this morning. Thought you forgot."

She didn't forget. She never forgot.

She walked into the kitchen like a shadow of herself, flash drive in one hand, phone in the other. Zara turned, took one look, and everything in her expression shifted.

"Okay," she said slowly, "what the hell happened?"

Tessa placed the drive on the table like it might explode.

Zara stared. "What is that?"

"Footage."

"Of what?"

"Me and him in the car."

Zara sat down fast, like her knees gave out. "You mean someone - Tess, tell me he didn't record you without asking."

"I don't think he did. But I can't be sure."

"No. Nope. You need to go. You need to get out. Now."

"I can't."

"You can. Pack a bag. Block him. Run."

Tessa shook her head, her voice cracking. "He's not the one who sent it."

"And that's supposed to make it better?"

"He doesn't lie to me. He'd tell me if he did it."

Zara stared, something in her face crumbling. "And if he didn't, that means someone else is watching you. Someone close enough to get into this apartment. Someone close enough to touch. Are you hearing yourself?"

Tessa didn't answer.

Because the worst part wasn't the footage.

It wasn't Dorian.

It was knowing someone else had watched it happen.

Watched her fall apart, begging and being breaked.

And kept it like it was worth something.

She moved through campus later like she no longer belonged to herself. Every glance felt like a trap. Every whisper bent into her name. She couldn't look at her professors. Couldn't meet anyone's eyes. She was sure they'd seen it. That everyone had.

Her phone buzzed again.

UNKNOWN: Smile. You're on camera again.

She barely made it to the bathroom before she threw up.

She locked herself in a stall, shaking, hands so unsteady she could barely delete the message. She deleted Dorian's missed calls too. But it didn't help. Not the dread. Not the heat that now felt like panic.

She thought about the drive again.

Her fingerprints were the only ones on it.

So how the hell did it get inside her bag?

She didn't text or call,she just showed up.

Hotel lobby. Fifth floor. The place he took meetings no one was supposed to know about. He looked up the second the elevator opened.

And for once, her heart didn't skip.

She walked toward him like someone who had nothing left to fear.

"Tessa," he said.

She sat across from him. Pulled the flash drive from her coat and placed it on the table.

"You didn't call," he murmured.

"You didn't warn me."

"What is this?"

"You tell me."

He picked it up, turned it slowly in his palm. Didn't plug it in. Didn't blink. He looked calm - too calm.

"I didn't record us," he said.

"You're sure?"

His eyes locked on hers. "If I had, you'd already know."

She didn't look away. "Then who did?"

He ran a thumb along the side of the drive. "I recognize the watermark."

Tessa's stomach twisted. "What watermark?"

He leaned in. "Bottom right corner. Almost invisible. I used to do business with the man who marks his footage that way. That was before I started cleaning house."

"So they're watching me to get to you."

He shook his head, voice darker now. "They're not watching you, Tessa. They're watching what belongs to me."

Her spine locked. "I don't belong to anyone."

He smiled, slow and knowing. "You keep saying that."

"Because it's true."

He reached for her chin, touched it like he could tip the truth out of her mouth. "Then why are you still here?" and she didn't flinch because he was right.....again.

That night, she lay in bed, eyes wide, body curled around the echo of everything that had happened. The USB. The hands. The camera. Nathan's face. Zara's voice. Her own voice saying I'm yours like a promise and a prophecy. And Dorian - untouched,unbothered and unmoved. As if this wasn't chaos. As if it was just another detour on a road he already owned.

She clutched her pillow tighter. Bit her lip until it almost bled.

Because the scariest part wasn't being watched.

It was knowing that somewhere out there -

someone wanted her to break again.

And next time

they'd be ready to film the whole fall.