Escalation - Tessa Teevan Page 0,3

for signs of her presence. Nothing. I stalk down the hall, and when I get to my bedroom, her belongings are there, but she isn’t. Irritation burns through me as I run a hand over my face. Didn’t I tell her not to leave?

My phone vibrates, and when I pull it out, I see a missed call from her as well as a voice message. I’m halfway to the elevator by the time her voice comes on.

“Hey, Rafe. It’s Brie. Listen, I know you said not to leave, but I just remembered that I forgot the files. I have so many questions, and I’m hoping there are answers inside. Plus, the last thing I need is Adrian accusing me of stealing his car. So I’m just going to come back, grab the files, hang up the keys, then head to the trailer until you’re done for the day. Which I guess I could just tell you this when I get there. See you soon!”

Dread washes over me as I race to my car. I tell myself to calm down, that it’s no big deal. But why didn’t she call again when she got there and saw I was gone? What could possibly be keeping her?

Scenarios run through my mind the entire drive to the Morningstar Estate. As I pass through the main gate and get closer to the construction entrance, a sleek, black car speeds past me in the opposite direction. A cold sweat breaks out on my brow. Something tells me to follow the damn car, but I ignore my hunch and turn and drive up to the nearly completed guesthouse.

My eyebrows furrow when I see the garage open, light spilling from the door to the tunnel that leads to the main house. What the motherfucking fuck is going on? Something is definitely wrong. That should not be open—unless Brie decided to go snooping.

Fuck.

I sprint to the trailer, hoping she’s there but knowing deep down that it’s wishful thinking. When I twist the knob, it’s locked—just as I left it. Did Brie come here looking for me? Or did she go to the house first? The main house is dark, no signs of her presence.

Growing worried at her obvious absence, I race back to the garage of the guesthouse and pause at the tunnel’s entrance before slipping inside. Then I pull my sidearm out of the waistband of my jeans. Holding it in front of me, in the position, ready for anything, I creep through the tunnel towards the main house. My eyes and ears are alert, but there’s not a single sight or sound. My heart races faster the closer I get to the main house, and its beats increase tenfold when I spy the door ajar. Pushing it aside, I notice that the filing cabinet’s been knocked over and papers litter the floor. Upon slowly stepping over them, I press the bookshelf ever so slightly to the side and try to get a look into the office.

The sight before me catches me off guard, and I freeze. As I quickly come to my senses, I holster my weapon and move the shelf completely out of the way, stepping into view. The man sitting in the chair behind the desk is watching something on the computer, his face piqued with interest. His brows are drawn together tightly, and his jaw is clenched. His eyes, though. His eyes are what unnerve me. They’re dark, nearly black, and I can see the cold calculation in them as they intently peer at the lit screen. After a moment, I then see the utter disdain in them. What the fuck is he doing here? And what the fuck is he looking at?

I clear my throat to get his attention, and it works. He uses the mouse to click the screen then looks up at me. He sits back in the chair and steeples his hands under his chin as he studies me, his expression masked. Even still, the coldness in his eyes threatens to send a chill down my spine. He’s always been an unreadable man, and it’s never been more irritating than it is right now.

“Where the hell have you been?” he asks.

I wince at his gruff tone. I don’t have time for this, but I can’t let him know I’m worried for Brie. Hell, I can’t let him know I feel anything for her or I’m fucked. We both will be, and the thought of what he might do to