Chapter 63
The Silence Between Them
Rhea woke again late in the afternoon, tangled in her sheets, her throat dry. The events of the morning still clung to her like smoke—faint bruises, swollen lips, the way her skin still tingled where he'd touched her.
She hadn't seen Lex since she'd stormed out of his room.
Good.
She didn't want to. Not yet.
Her mind was a mess. Her heart even more so.
She checked her phone—eight missed calls. Three from work. One from Manik. Four from an unknown number. One from Lex.
She ignored them all.
Instead, she pulled on a hoodie and stepped out onto the balcony, the cool breeze brushing her face. Her thoughts drifted back to last night. She could see it now in flashes—his eyes, the way he looked at her, not like a stranger, not even like a lover, but like someone who knew her.
But that wasn't possible.
He didn't.
He couldn't.
So why did it feel like he saw right through her?
---
Meanwhile, in Room 604
Lex sat on the edge of his bed, scrolling through a file on his laptop—one filled with reports, images, surveillance. But it wasn't work. Not exactly.
It was her.
Rhea Age 27. Data analyst. Moved to London last 2 years. No close family. Friends limited. Known to be quiet, guarded, highly intelligent.
But Lex had found something off.
Three years ago, she'd disappeared from all digital records for nearly eight months—no activity, no photos, no transactions. She had simply… vanished. And then, one day, she reappeared under a new job, new address, new number.
People didn't just erase themselves like that.
Not without reason.
Not without danger.
Lex closed the laptop. His jaw tightened.
"Who are you really, Rhea?" he muttered.
Last night wasn't part of his plan. It shouldn't have happened. But the moment she touched him, something inside him shifted.
Something woke up.
And now, he wasn't sure if he'd crossed the line… or stepped right into her trap.
---
Back in Rhea's Room
Later that evening, Rhea stood in front of the mirror again, staring at herself. She gently touched the bruise on her collarbone, her fingers trembling.
She hated how her heart reacted when she thought of him.
Of how he held her.
Of the way he whispered her name like it meant something.
But the truth was deeper. Sharper.
She hadn't been drinking last night just for fun.
She had gone to his door with a reason.
Because she remembered something too.
Not about last night.
About him.
The way his voice had sounded familiar the first time they met.
The way his touch felt like déjà vu.
The dreams she'd been having for weeks—strange, blurred images of a man with eyes like his.
And now the dreams were no longer just dreams.
They were memories.
And Lex was in them.
Her phone buzzed again. One new message.
> Lex:
We need to talk.
And not about last night.
It's about something else. Something you've forgotten.
Her breath caught. Her fingers tightened around the phone.
How does he know?