The sound came again, soft, almost like a foot brushing against old wood. Ella's breath hitched, barely audible, but her nerves jolted like someone had plugged her into a live wire. Ben turned his head slowly, eyes narrowing toward the staircase. For a moment, neither of them moved. The silence stretched tight between them, humming with tension.
"He's still here," Ella muttered under her breath.
Ben's jaw flexed. "Then he's getting desperate."
They didn't rush. Rushing meant panic. Rushing meant losing the upper hand. Instead, they walked toward the stairs like two executives heading into a meeting they didn't plan but refused to be unprepared for. Ella stayed half a step behind Ben, not out of fear, out of strategy. If something happened, Ben insisted he'd take the first blow. She knew better than to argue when his voice had carried that low, stubborn grit.
The second-floor hallway was dim. Ben reached for the switch, flicked it on, and the lights buzzed awake. Everything looked normal, too normal. No curtains shifted, no doors swung open, no shadows darted where shadows shouldn't be.
But Ella's skin crawled.
Someone had been here.
Someone still might be.
Ben pointed to the end of the hall. "Start right. I'll take left."
"No," Ella muttered sharply. "We stay together. I'm not splitting up just because some creep wants to play hide-and-seek."
Ben sighed, almost annoyed but also relieved. "Fine. Together."
They checked the storage room first. Empty.
The guest room. Empty.
The linen closet. Empty.
By the time they reached Ella's bedroom door, her heartbeat was a pounding drum in her ears. She wasn't scared, she was angry. Angry at Jasper. Angry at the intrusion. Angry at the invisible pressure he kept applying, like he could twist her life into knots with nothing but shadows.
Ben pushed her gently behind him and turned the doorknob.
The room was still.
The air was cold.
And Ella immediately noticed what was wrong.
Her perfume bottle normally placed neatly on her vanity, was tilted halfway off the edge, hanging there like a dare.
Ella hissed, "He touched my stuff."
Ben's eyes hardened. "He wanted you to know."
Ella stepped inside first. "Coward."
They searched. Closet, bathroom, under the bed, behind the curtains. Nothing. It felt more like someone slipping through their fingers than someone hiding.
Ben rubbed the back of his neck. "He's messing with your psychology."
"Then he's about to get a lesson," Ella snapped.
She walked to the vanity, straightened the perfume bottle, then slammed it down harder than necessary. It wasn't the bottle she was angry at. It was everything.
Ben stepped closer. "Hey."
Ella grumbled, "Don't 'hey' me."
Ben gentled his voice. "Ella, breathe."
"I am breathing," she muttered.
He raised a brow. "You're practically growling."
She groaned. "I'm entitled to growl. Someone broke into my room."
Ben nodded slowly. "Yeah. You are."
She dropped into the chair, head falling into her hands. "Ben… why? What does he get out of this?"
Ben leaned against the edge of her dresser. "Control. Fear. He's searching for your breaking point."
Ella muttered, "He'll choke before I break."
Ben smirked faintly. "There she is."
But the moment didn't last long.
A soft notification dinged from Ella's phone. She flinched and snatched it up. A text. Unknown number.
Ben leaned closer. "What does it say?"
Ella swallowed hard and read aloud:
"You missed a spot."
Ben shot upright. "He's watching us now."
Ella's heart lurched, but she steadied herself. "He wants us paranoid."
"He's already in the system," Ben muttered. "Cameras. Sensors. Something."
Ella shook her head. "Maybe. Or maybe he's bluffing."
Ben paced the room, running a hand through his hair. "I'll shut everything down. Change the networks. Rewire all—"
"No," Ella said suddenly. "Don't touch anything yet."
Ben stared at her. "Why?"
"Because if he's tapping into our systems," she said slowly, mind racing, "messing with them will let him know we found the breach."
Ben blinked. "And?"
"And," Ella continued, "we need him comfortable. We need him thinking we're confused. Not ready. Not defensive."
Ben studied her, giving her one of those long, thoughtful looks he did when she surprised him. "You want him overconfident."
Ella nodded. "High pride. Low caution."
Ben huffed. "Dangerous game."
Ella stood and walked closer. "You're playing with me."
Ben's voice dropped an octave. "Always."
Something thick hovered between them. Something tense, charged, unsaid. But they didn't lean into it. Not now. Not when every shadow felt like it held Jasper's breath.
Instead, Ella stepped away first. "Let's check the office next."
Ben nodded. "Let's go."
They walked back down the hallway. Halfway toward the stairs, Ella froze again.
Ben stopped immediately. "What now?"
Ella pointed. "The door. It wasn't open before."
Ben followed her gaze.
His office door stood slightly ajar.
Ben growled under his breath. "He was in my office too."
Ella whispered, "He's marking territory."
Ben pushed the door open fast, ready to catch someone but again, nothing.
Everything was in place except one thing.
His chair.
It was turned backward.
As if someone had sat there.
Faced the opposite direction.
Waited.
Ella muttered, "Okay… I'm starting to hate this."
Ben circled the room. "Drawers untouched. Files untouched."
Ella walked toward the chair slowly. "Ben…"
He turned to her. "What?"
Ella touched the back of the chair.
"Warm," she whispered. "He wasn't here long ago."
Ben's fists clenched so tightly his knuckles whitened. "If I see him—"
Ella interrupted softly, "You won't kill him."
Ben glared. "Watch me."
Ella stepped closer. "No. That's what he wants. He wants you reckless so he can twist the narrative."
Ben huffed. "Damn it. You're right."
Ella nodded. "Let's set the trap."
Ben frowned. "How?"
Ella exhaled. "We give him exactly what he wants."
Ben raised a brow. "Which is?"
"A crack in the foundation," she murmured. "A fake one."
Ben smirked slowly. "You want to stage a fight?"
Ella nodded. "Let him see us fall apart. Let him think his pressure is working. We need him confident. That's how we bait him."
Ben crossed his arms. "Alright. What's the script?"
Ella flashed a tired, sharp grin. "We don't need a script. We just need tension."
Ben laughed under his breath. "Well… we've got plenty of that."
Ella flicked her eyes at him. "Play along."
Ben nodded. "With pleasure."
They stepped back into the hallway. Ella raised her voice slightly, just enough for an unseen microphone or unseen eyes to catch.
"Ben," she snapped, "you can't keep walking around pretending you've got everything under control!"
Ben matched her tone instantly, stepping into the role. "And you can't keep assuming you know better!"
Ella threw her hands up dramatically. "I'm trying to fix the damn situation!"
Ben shot back, "So am I!"
They argued, loud enough, sharp enough, believable enough for several minutes. Words flying, tempers flaring, movements exaggerated.
And somewhere in the shadows of the house…
Someone was listening.
Someone was watching.
And someone believed every second of their staged unraveling.
When the argument ended, Ella stormed into her room, slamming the door for effect. Her heart pounded. Her palms were sweaty. But adrenaline sharpened her focus.
She whispered into the empty room:
"Come on, Jasper. Take the bait."
Ben stood outside, leaning against the opposite wall, listening for movement.
Waiting for their trap to spring.
They weren't victims anymore.
They were hunters.
And Jasper had just stepped into their web.