CHAPTER 5

The Late-Night Calls Begin

A soft hum pulled me from sleep. At first, I thought it was a dream, some distant whisper in the night. But then, as I turned over, reaching instinctively for the warmth of Alex beside me, my fingers met only cold sheets.

I blinked, the room still shrouded in darkness except for the faint glow of the city pressing against the windows. My eyes found the alarm clock on the nightstand.

2:17 AM.

The murmur of his voice was low, just barely audible over the quiet hum of the apartment.

Sliding out of bed, I moved carefully, my bare feet pressing against the cool hardwood floor. The sound was coming from the balcony. The door was cracked open, letting in a sliver of night air that raised goosebumps along my arms.

I hesitated.

It wasn't the first time Alex had taken late-night calls. He always brushed them off as a business, but something about tonight felt... different.

I stepped closer, peeking through the gap in the curtains.

Alex stood near the railing, his back rigid, one hand gripping the metal as though grounding himself. The other held his phone to his ear, his voice just a notch above a whisper.

"That's not an option." His tone was sharp. Firm. "Not yet."

I stilled.

Not yet?

A gust of wind stirred the curtains, and I shivered—not just from the cold, but from the unshakable feeling that something was wrong.

This was Alex—my Alex. The man who pulled me closer in his sleep, who left me sleepy morning kisses before heading off to work.

But the man outside, standing tense and secretive under the moonlight?

I wasn't sure I knew him at all.

Swallowing, I pushed the door open a little more.

"Another late meeting?" I kept my voice light, but the edge of curiosity—of doubt—was impossible to hide.

Alex flinched.

For a second, something flashed across his face. Guilt? Surprise? Fear?

Then it was gone, wiped clean, and replaced by his usual easy expression, a half-smile curving his lips. The kind of smile he used when he wanted me to stop asking questions.

He slipped the phone into his pocket. "Just business," he said smoothly. "Nothing to worry about."

But I did worry.

I studied him in the dim light, my heart pounding. The way he stood, the faint tightness around his eyes—it was subtle, but it was there.

A warning sign.

"Should I be?" I asked, my voice was quieter this time.

Alex's smile didn't falter, but something about it felt... off. He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers warm against my chilled skin.

"Come back to bed," he murmured, skimming his thumb along my jaw.

A distraction. A soft, practiced deflection.

I let him lead me back inside, let him wrap his arms around me as if nothing had happened. His body was warm and familiar, and yet my mind couldn't shake the uneasy curling in my chest.

As I lay with my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, I realized something.

For the first time, it didn't feel steady at all.

It felt like a ticking clock.

A countdown to something I wasn't prepared for.

And deep down, I knew—this was only the beginning.