Page 28 of Duty Unbound

“Wait, what letters?” Nova sat up straighter.

I hesitated. If it got her to take things seriously… “There have been some concerning messages. That’s why I reached out to Citadel Solutions in the first place.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Hurt flashed across her face.

“I was trying to protect you,” I said softly. “You had enough to worry about with the tour.”

Nova opened her mouth to respond when her phone chimed with a message. She glanced down, then froze.

“Oh my God.” Her voice was barely audible.

“What is it?”

She didn’t answer, just stared at her phone, her face draining of color.

“Nova?” I moved closer.

“Someone just posted a video of me.” She turned the screen toward me. “Look.”

I leaned forward, my stomach dropping as I processed what I was seeing. The video showed Nova in her bedroom—thisbedroom—changing clothes. The footage was clearly taken from outside, through the French doors that led to her private patio. The angle was perfect for capturing every moment as she stripped off her rehearsal outfit and slipped into the exact silk pajamas she was wearing right now.

Nova jabbed at the screen frantically. “Can you believe this? The lighting is awful! And this angle? My abs look nonexistent!”

I barely heard her, my mind racing with a much more terrifying realization. The video ended just as Nova turned toward her bedroom door—just as I came in for our conversation.

Holy shit. This footage had been taken onlyminutesago. Whoever filmed this had been right outside, mere feet away from us, moments before I walked into this room.

“Nova,” I whispered, “these are the clothes you’re wearing now.”

She blinked, not comprehending. “Yeah, so?”

“So whoever took this video was just outside your French doors. Like two minutes ago.” I stood up so quickly my head spun. “They might have come into the house.”

Understanding finally dawned on her face. “Oh shit.”

My heart hammered against my ribs as I crossed to the French doors, checking that they were locked. The garden beyond was dark, shadows stretching across the patio. Anyone could be hiding out there, watching us.

“We need to call the guardhouse,” I said, fumbling for my phone. My fingers trembled as I tried to dial, but panic made me clumsy.

He answered on the second ring. “Mel? Everything okay?”

“Ron?” I said, confused by the deep voice that definitely wasn’t our elderly security guard. “Wait—Ethan?”

Instead of Ron’s number, I’d accidentally called the last person I’d spoken with.

“Yes, it’s Ethan. What’s wrong?” His tone sharpened immediately.

“Someone’s here.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears, high and breathless. “At the house. They filmed Nova changing clothes a couple of minutes ago through her bedroom windows and already posted it. They could be inside.”

“Are you both in the same room?” His voice was calm, steady—the opposite of how I felt.

“Yes, Nova’s bedroom.”

“Is there a bathroom attached with a solid door?”

“Yes.”

“Take Nova and go in there now. Lock the door. Push something heavy against it if you can.” I heard rustling on his end, keys jingling. “I’m on my way. ETA twenty minutes.”

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