The next morning, when Danny woke up, he found me snuggled close against him in bed—my arms lightly wrapped around him, my breath warm against his chest.
Just then, his phone buzzed quietly on the nightstand. Not wanting to wake me, he reached over with care and answered it in a whisper.
"You've been spending time with the wrong person," a distorted voice said from the other end.
Danny sat up slightly, brows furrowing. "Who is this?"
A low, eerie chuckle echoed back. "Just a well-wisher."
Then the line went dead.
His fingers moved swiftly, trying to trace the call, but it was cloaked—untraceable. For a few seconds, he just sat there, wondering if it was some prank or something much darker.
But when I shifted in my sleep, murmuring softly, his attention immediately returned to me. He pulled me in closer, brushing his lips against my temple. "It's okay," he whispered gently. "Sleep a little more, sweetheart."
The soft comfort in his voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket, and I melted into his arms again, drifting back into sleep.
Eventually, he got up, stepping out onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air while the storm of questions still brewed in his mind.
By the time I woke up, the space beside me was empty. I freshened up and padded out into the kitchen—only to find him already flipping something in a pan, wearing the most adorable focused expression.
A smile tugged at my lips. "You didn't have to do all this."
He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. "Of course I did. For my princess? It's the least I could do."
I blushed, nudging him playfully on the arm. "Shut up."
He gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his heart. "Ouch. Right in the feelings."
I couldn't help but laugh as I wrapped my arms around him. He leaned down and placed a kiss on my forehead, and for a moment, everything felt perfectly calm.
We sat down for breakfast, plates clinking softly as we dug in. Halfway through, Danny looked up, serious now. "I got a call this morning," he said. "From someone. They didn't say who they were, just… said I've been hanging around with the wrong person."
My fork paused mid-air. "That's weird. I still have the note from before, remember? Do you think it could be Olivia? Maybe she's the one sending the notes... and now calling you?"
He frowned, shaking his head. "I don't think so. Olivia might act all high and mighty, but she's actually a coward. Have you ever seen her actually do anything bold? The moment someone dares her, she finds a way to back out. She's all bark and no bite."
"Maybe," I said thoughtfully. "But still… we can't take her off the list just yet."
He nodded slowly. "Right. Maybe she's not acting directly—but what if she's pulling the strings from behind the curtain? Sending others to do her dirty work?"
I met his eyes. "Exactly. We need to stay alert. The Maxton Meet is next week. Anything could happen."
He nodded again, the weight of unspoken tension passing between us. And with that, we continued eating—each bite a quiet vow that we'd face whatever came… together.