Lexy's hands trembled as she locked her phone, her pulse hammering.
Someone was watching. Someone knew.
But who?
She forced herself to breathe, to think logically. It could be a prank, a random wrong number. But deep down, she knew better.
This was deliberate.
She grabbed her coat and left the café, her eyes scanning the street, searching for anything, anyone, out of place. But all she saw were strangers going about their evening, oblivious to the storm brewing inside her.
By the time she reached James' place, her nerves were frayed. She barely knocked before he pulled her inside, his grip firm, his eyes sharp.
"What happened?" he demanded.
Lexy handed him the phone. His expression darkened as he read the messages.
"Fuck." He scrubbed a hand over his face, then met her gaze. "This isn't a coincidence."
She folded her arms, trying to suppress the shiver crawling up her spine. "You think it's her?"
James hesitated, his jaw tightening. "I don't know."
But he did know.
His wife was smart. If she had even the slightest suspicion, she wouldn't sit quietly and wonder. She would dig.
And Lexy had the sinking feeling that someone had already started digging.
The Next Message
The next text came two days later.
Unknown: Careful, sweetheart. Red suits you, but secrets don't.
Lexy felt sick.
James' reaction was immediate. "We need to find out who this is."
She nodded. "And if it's her?"
A pause. A flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
"Then we handle it."
Lexy didn't ask how.
Because they were past the point of turning back.