The phone buzzed at three in the morning.
I wasn't asleep. Sleep had been harder lately, though I couldn't say why. Kash was beside me, one arm draped across my waist the way he always did, his breathing deep and even. The apartment was quiet except for the hum of the city below—Manhattan never really slept, and neither, apparently, did I.
The phone lit up again on his nightstand. A soft glow in the darkness.
I should have let it go. I should have rolled over and closed my eyes. But something made me reach across Kash's sleeping body, my fingers closing around the phone to silence it before it woke him.
The screen was still lit when I pulled it back.
A message notification.
Contact name: S.M.
I stared at those two letters. My thumb hovered over the screen.
S.M.
Sienna Morrison. My mother.
I opened the message.
*"The anniversary gala. That's when we finish this. Make sure the bedroom cameras capture everything we need before then."*
The words didn't make sense at first. I read them again. Then a third time.
Bedroom cameras.
Finish this.
My hand was steady. That surprised me. I thought it would shake. I thought something in my body would react to what I was reading, but I just sat there in the dark, the phone glowing in my palm, Kash's arm still warm across my waist.
I scrolled up.
Months of messages. Dozens of them.
*"She trusts you completely now. Don't let up on the affection. She needs to feel safe."*
*"The cooking classes were a nice touch. Keep doing small things like that. It makes her vulnerable."*
*"I need footage of her at her most unguarded. Bedroom, bathroom, anywhere she thinks she's alone. The more intimate, the better."*
*"You're doing beautifully, darling. She has no idea."*
I kept scrolling.
There were photos. Screenshots of my calendar. Notes about my schedule. Details about where I'd be and when. Instructions on how to install cameras without me noticing. A list of emotional triggers Sienna had identified—things that would make me feel loved, things that would make me let my guard down.
And Kash's responses.
*"She loved the scarf. Cried a little when I gave it to her."*
*"Installed the second camera in the walk-in closet. Positioned it exactly where you said."*
*"She's talking about introducing me to the board. I think she's serious about making this permanent."*
*"I know. I'll make sure she doesn't suspect anything before the gala."*
I read every word.
I don't know how long I sat there. Long enough that the sky outside started to shift from black to deep blue. Long enough that my legs went numb beneath the blankets.
Kash stirred beside me. His arm tightened around my waist, pulling me closer in his sleep. He murmured something I didn't catch, his face pressed into my shoulder.
I set the phone back on the nightstand. Exact angle. Exact position. Screen dark.
Then I slipped out of bed.
The apartment was cold. I didn't turn on any lights. I walked down the hall to my office, unlocked the door, and closed it behind me.
I sat at my desk in the dark.
My office overlooked the city. Floor-to-ceiling windows. At this hour, the skyline was a grid of lights, some still burning, most gone dark. I used to find it comforting. Tonight it just looked like a thousand tiny eyes.
I pressed my fingertips together. A habit. Something I did when I needed to think.
Bedroom cameras.
I ran through the apartment in my mind. Bedroom. Closet. Bathroom. Where else?
How long had they been there?
How much had he recorded?
I thought about the last two years. Every moment I'd believed was private. Every time I'd let my guard down. Every time I'd told him I loved him.
The $5 million trust fund I'd set up in his name last month.
The anniversary gala was in three weeks.
My company's tenth anniversary. I'd been planning it for months. Every major investor would be there. Press. The city's elite. It was supposed to be a celebration.
That's when we finish this.
I didn't cry.
I thought I would. I thought something in me would break open. But I just sat there, fingertips pressed together, watching the city wake up.
By the time the sun came up, I knew what I was going to do.
I wasn't going to confront him. I wasn't going to ask Sienna what the hell she thought she was doing. I wasn't going to run.
I was going to let them think they'd won.
I was going to smile at Kash over breakfast. I was going to let him cook for me and hold me and tell me he loved me. I was going to go to fittings and tastings and final walkthroughs for the gala.
And I was going to build a bomb.
I pulled out my phone—my phone, not his—and sent a single text.
*"I need you here. Bring coffee."*
Maisie replied in thirty seconds.
*"On my way."*
I sat back in my chair and waited for the sun to finish rising.
Kash would wake up soon. He'd find me gone from bed and come looking. He'd knock softly on the office door and ask if I was okay, his voice still rough with sleep, concern in his eyes.
And I would smile at him.
I would let him pull me into his arms.
I would let him think everything was fine.
Because in three weeks, at the gala, when he pressed play on whatever he and Sienna had planned—
I was going to burn them both to the ground.
