The Billionaire Who Stole My Life and the Secret Brother Who Kept It
My hands were shaking so hard I could barely fit it into the lock.
The lock turned with a heavy click.
I pushed the door open, revealing the dark, cold interior.
It smelled of pine and old paper.
I led Alexander inside, guiding him toward the small sofa in the corner.
He collapsed onto it, his head falling back against the cushions.
I closed the door behind us and slid the deadbolt into place.
I stood there in the dark, my back against the wood.
We were safe, for now.
But as I looked at the man on the couch, the man I had spent months mourning, I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.
The phone in my pocket suddenly vibrated.
I pulled it out.
Despite the lack of signal, a single text message popped up on the screen from an unknown number.
The screen lit up the dark room with a bright, blue glow.
I looked down at the glowing screen.
The message was short.
*I see you,* it read.
I turned the phone off immediately and shoved it into my coat pocket.