We both knew who owned the sprawling estate in Greenwich.

Victoria Sterling.

“Your mother,” I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

“She’s been monitoring us,” Alexander said.

“But how? Marcus Vance answers only to you.”

“Marcus has had full admin access to my personal devices for seven years,” Alexander said.

He leaned his head back against the concrete pillar, closing his eyes.

“Seven years,” I repeated, the number echoing in my head.

That was exactly how long I had been in hiding with the boys.

“If Marcus was giving her access…” I started, but the thought was too terrifying to finish.

“He wasn’t just checking the penthouse,” Alexander said, his eyes snapping open.

“He has access to the global tracking network I use for my private transport.”

He looked down at his phone again, his thumb flying as he ran another diagnostic.

“He’s been running queries

“He’s been running queries on your name,” Alexander said.

His voice was barely a whisper, but it sounded like a crack of thunder in the quiet basement.

I stepped closer, my sneakers squeaking against the painted concrete floor.