~ Tessa's POV~
The apartment felt unusually heavy the next morning, as if Robert's voice from the night before had lingered in the walls. His question…"Where are you coming from?"...still rang in my ears. I had brushed it off with practiced ease, but I knew he wasn't fully convinced.
I stood at the kitchen counter, pouring coffee, when his footsteps entered the room. His presence filled the space in an instant.
"You were up early," he said, pulling out a chair. His tone was calm, controlled, but there was weight behind it.
"I couldn't sleep," I admitted. "I thought coffee might help."
He studied me. I could feel his eyes tracing over my face, looking for cracks. "Or maybe you didn't sleep because something's troubling you."
I forced a light laugh. "Job Tessa. It's my job."
"Is it? If I can recall Tessa, you have no job!" His voice carried a sharp edge, though his expression barely shifted. "Still without it, you have been… distracted. You go out more. Come back later. Different."
I set the cup down harder than intended. "You're reading too much into things. Sophie's back in town. I told you that. We've been catching up."
"Yes, Sophie." His lips curved faintly. "You've mentioned her. I'd like to meet her sometime."
The suggestion caught me off guard. "Meet her?"
"Of course. I don't see why not. She's your best friend. Shouldn't I know the people important to you?"
My chest tightened. "She wouldn't mind, I guess. But her schedule's been crazy. She just got back."
"I can clear a schedule," he replied, voice firm but calm. "It's what I do."
I met his gaze, trying to hold steady. "Robert, you don't have to micromanage my friendships."
He leaned back in his chair, still watching me. "I'm not micromanaging. I'm… paying attention. There's a difference."
The words landed with precision. He wasn't accusing me outright, but he wasn't letting go either.
I moved past him, needing the distance. "Maybe you should focus more on your endless meetings and less on where I go for lunch."
"Don't test me, Tessa." The warning was soft, but unmistakable. His voice dropped lower. "I notice everything. Even the little things you think I won't."
I froze for a second, then forced a smile as I turned. "Then maybe you'll notice that I'm fine. That I'm happy catching up with Sophie. That there's nothing else going on."
He didn't respond immediately. He just tapped his fingers lightly against the table, considering. Finally, he said, "You've always been good at deflecting."
"And you've always been good at interrogating," I countered.
He almost smirked at that, but his eyes didn't soften. "Interrogating is how I've built everything I own. Asking questions no one else dares. Finding answers people don't want to give."
"And what if there are no answers to find here?" I asked.
"Then I'll stop asking." He rose from his chair, the quiet authority of the movement making me step back instinctively. "But until I'm sure, I won't."
The tension lingered even after he left for the day.
The hours crawled by in silence, broken only by the hum of the washing machine and the scrape of dishes against porcelain. By the time the sun dipped low, my phone buzzed across the counter. I snatched it up before the second ring.
"Sophie." Relief rushed into my voice before I could cage it.
"Girl, you sound like someone who hasn't slept in days," she teased, laughing lightly but probing.
"You're not far off," I muttered, sinking into the chair, my shoulders heavy.
"Oh, is it your darling husband again?"
The word husband tightened something in my chest. I glanced at the closed door, though the apartment was empty. My voice dropped to a whisper. "He's suspicious. He keeps circling me, like a predator waiting for me to stumble."
"Classic power move," Sophie said, her tone sharper now. "He wants you off balance."
A humorless laugh escaped me, thin and cracked. "He doesn't need to try. I already feel like I'm walking a tightrope. Every step feels like the one that'll send me crashing."
"What did he do now?"
I pressed my fingers against my temple. "He asked to meet you."
Silence stretched on the line. Then Sophie's laugh burst out, forced and a little too high. "Really? The great worldwide Alphabillionaire wants to meet me? That would boost my profile."
"Sophie." My voice broke, rawer than I wanted. "Please, not now. He was serious. Dead serious."
Her chuckle faded, leaving only the sound of her breath.
"You don't get it," I continued, clutching the phone tighter. "If he meets you, he'll pick you apart. He'll read every twitch, every blink. He'll know something's wrong. He always knows."
For a moment, neither of us spoke. I could almost hear her shifting on the other end, the weight of my fear pressing through the line. Finally, she sighed. "Then stall him. Keep him at bay."
A lump rose in my throat. "And for how long, Sophie? He's already watching me like a hawk. He doesn't even need proof. One wrong word and I'm finished."
"Mia…" her voice softened, the playfulness gone. "You can't keep lying forever. Cracks are already showing. He'll see them."
My chest tightened, a whisper slipping out before I could stop it. "I know. I can feel it. Every breath feels borrowed."
I pressed the heel of my palm against my eye, but it did nothing to stem the sting there.
"Tessa," Sophie said carefully, "you need a plan. You can't just wait for him to uncover you. That's suicide."
Her words dug deep. My lips parted, ready to answer, but then…
The sharp click of the front door unlocking sliced through the air. My entire body jolted. The phone almost slipped from my fingers.
"Tessa?" His voice carried down the hall, low, commanding, familiar enough to send a shiver racing through me.
My pulse hammered against my throat. "I have to go," I whispered, shoving the phone against my leg to muffle the sound.
"Tessa, wait…" Sophie's voice crackled, but I killed the call with a trembling thumb.
The phone burned hot in my pocket as I shoved it away. I forced a breath, steadying my voice before calling out, "In here!"
My words sounded too bright, too practiced. I smoothed my hair quickly, pressing down the wild strands, and turned toward the doorway.
His footsteps drew closer, each one deliberate, measured. The weight of his presence filled the apartment before he even appeared. Why did he come back?
And when he finally stepped into the room, his eyes caught mine, sharp, searching, already too aware.
His jacket was still on as his eyes flicked to my pocket before meeting my face. "Who was that?"
"My mother," I lied without hesitation.
His brow arched slightly. "You two have been talking more lately."
"Is that a problem?" I asked, folding my arms.
"No," he said slowly. "Just… unexpected." He took off his jacket, draping it neatly over a chair. "We should have dinner tonight. Together."
The sudden shift unsettled me. "Dinner?"
"Yes. No excuses. Just us."
I hesitated. "Alright."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Tessa, I don't ask for much. But when I do, I expect it. Clear?"
"Clear," I said softly.
"Good." He leaned in, pressing a firm kiss to my temple before pulling away. "Seven o'clock. Be ready."
After he left the room, I sank into a chair, heart pounding.
Sophie's warning echoed in my mind. You can't keep lying forever.
But lying was the only thing keeping me safe, but what puzzled me was the fact that twenty four hours had passed but Thomas hadn't made a move.
What exactly is he thinking?