Chapter 22: Twisted Lies: Chapter 22

One step forward, two steps back.

That summed up my relationship with Christian.

I’d thought we were making real progress. Considering how easily he’d shut me out after dinner at Dante’s, that wasn’t the case.

I didn’t hold a grudge often, but it’d been a week since we returned to D.C., and I still hadn’t shaken off all my hurt.

There was nothing more upsetting than considering someone a friend only to realize they didn’t feel the same way about you. The uneven balance in any relationship made my skin tight.

It wasn’t like I’d asked him to spill his deepest, darkest secrets. Dante knew what happened with Magda and Vivian, so it couldn’t be that bad.

Granted, I didn’t have as long of a history with Christian as he did, but still.

I swiped my card at the self-checkout counter with more force than necessary.

I’d visited Maura that morning and stopped by the grocery store to pick up more wheatgrass powder for my smoothies on the way home.

Pro tip: Don’t grocery shop when frustrated.

I came in for the powder and was leaving with two bags of popcorn, a pint of ice cream, a king-size chocolate bar, and a six-pack of Greek yogurt.

The air conditioning was on full blast, but a deeper, eerier chill swept over my skin when I turned to leave.

Every hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end.

The roar of blood in my ears drowned out every other noise as I scanned my surroundings with a white knuckle grip on my phone.

I didn’t see anyone suspicious, but the ominous shift in the air was so tangible I tasted it in the back of my throat.

The soft, singsong warning drifted through my head.

And that someone wasn’t Brock, whose presence was invisible but always warm and reassuring.

A shiver rattled down my spine.

I hadn’t heard from my stalker since the break-in nor had I received any updates from Christian. I hadn’t asked for them; part of me didn’t want to know.

Out of sight, out of mind, except that obviously wasn’t true.

Whoever the creep was, he was out there, probably waiting for another opportunity to pounce.

I hadn’t mentioned my move on social media, but I was still living in the same building. If they could break into my apartment…

cannot He couldn’t hurt me when I was in public, either. Brock was there. I couldn’t see him, but he was Still, I forced my legs to move and walked as quickly as I could back to the Mirage.

The chill evaporated beneath the blaze of the afternoon soon. By the time I locked the door of Christian’s apartment behind me, I almost felt silly for how a mere sensation paralyzed me in the middle of a crowded grocery store in broad daylight.

I twisted my necklace around my finger and dragged slow, deep breaths through my lungs until the vestiges of fear cleared.

Yes, my stalker was out there, but he couldn’t get to me.

I may have been upset with Christian right now, but I trusted him to protect me.

He’d find the stalker soon. Then the whole situation would blow over and I could return to my normal life.

I was sure of it.

My streak of successfully avoiding Christian ended that night when he came home so early the sun still hung low in the sky and spilled golden washes of light across the light gray floors.

I’d just finished a pre-interview with Julian, the lifestyle columnist for He was doing an in-depth profile on me and my Delamonte ambassadorship, and we’d spent the past half hour discussing topics and logistics.

I was sketching in the living room when the front door opened and every hair on my body prickled with awareness.

I didn’t have to see Christian to him. He consumed every room he walked into.

I looked.

Sure enough, there he was, striding across the room like a king to his throne.

Broad shoulders. Sharp cheekbones. Expensive suit.

“Slacking off?” I stood and tucked my sketching notebook beneath my arm. I didn’t like sitting around Christian. It made me feel at even more of a disadvantage than I already was. “It’s still business hours.”

They were the first words I’d spoken to him since New York, and I would be lying if I said they didn’t give me a heady rush.

His steps slowed until he came to a halt in front of me. “I figured you’d want to celebrate.”

Confusion pulled my brows together. “Celebrate what?”

“You hit a million followers, Stella.” Christian watched me, unsmiling, but his eyes glowed with a faint hint of amusement. “As of one hour ago.”

There was I’d hit that milestone already. When I checked last night, I’d only been at…nine hundred ninety-six thousand, give or take a few hundred.

Considering how fast I’d been growing since I started “dating” Christian, four thousand new followers overnight was fully within the realm of possibility.

“If you don’t believe me, check for yourself.” It was like he’d read my mind.

I dragged my eyes away from Christian’s and took out my phone. A small tremble shook my hand as I tapped into my profile and zeroed in on the number at the top.

One million followers.

The rush from seeing that number was so strong I grew dizzy.

I’d known it would happen eventually, but hitting that milestone was surreal.

A thrill sizzled down my spine.

I did it.

A grin broke out, and it took all my willpower not to jump and scream like a twelve-year-old at their favorite pop singer’s concert.

One million had been the goal since I started my account. It wasn’t my goal, but it’d been the big one. The golden ticket. The validation I was a success, that I hadn’t made a mistake pursuing the path I was pursuing and that people liked my content and liked .

After years of creating content, and thousands of posts, I’d finally hit it.

I stared down at my profile, waiting for the skies to open up, angels to sing, and confetti to rain down around me in congratulations.

At the very least, I expected the Instagram gods to pop up and slap a gold star on my hand for achieving such a huge milestone.

The exhilaration of joining the million-follower club was still there, but I’d also expected…

Some sense of achievement that would validate all the hard work I’d put into my account and the feeling that I’d made it, whatever was.

But other than an excited, emoji-filled text from Brady and an inbox bursting with DMs, I was the same person I’d been an hour ago, with the same worries and insecurities.

Something jagged and morose punctured my thrill until I slowly floated back down to earth.

Somehow, it felt worse to achieve something and still feel dissatisfied than to not achieve it at all.

I had a million followers, yet I’d never felt emptier.

I tucked my phone into my pocket and tried to hide my disappointment.

“I didn’t realize you were watching my follower count that closely,” I said.

Christian didn’t take the bait. Instead, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a distinctive red and gold box.

“For you,” he said. “A congratulatory gift.”

Curiosity and hesitation warred inside me.

Should I take it? I didn’t feel right accepting a gift from him when we were little more than a business arrangement, but what could he have possibly gotten me? Considering the size and brand, it had to be jewelry.

In the end, curiosity won.

I took the box and slowly opened it, half expecting something to jump out at me, but my breath trapped in my throat when I saw what was nestled against the black velvet.

It was a watch—the most gorgeous, extravagant watch I’d ever laid eyes on. Diamonds and emeralds formed delicate butterflies on the polished face, and smaller diamonds studded the platinum band.

“It’s a limited-edition piece that hasn’t hit the market yet,” Christian said as casually as if it were a plastic toy he’d picked up from the mall. “There are only five in the world. One of them now belongs to you.”

I ran my fingers over the jeweled face. The watch must be worth a fortune.

“How did you get it?” The question was a whisper in the dying sunlight.

I knew the answer before he responded.

What Christian Harper wanted, Christian Harper got.

“I have my ways.”

The serotonin boost from holding a stunning piece of jewelry faded, replaced with wariness.

I couldn’t hold on to any happy feelings these days.

I closed my hand around the watch until the jewels cut into my palm. “Why are you giving this to me?”

“I told you. It’s a congratulatory gift.”

“You said I didn’t hit a million followers until an hour ago. You managed to get this watch come home in that time?”

He responded with an elegant shrug. “I have good contacts.”

My default was trust, but I tasted the bitterness of his lie on my tongue.

The diamonds dug deeper grooves into my skin before I loosened my grip.

“It’s gorgeous, and I appreciate the sentiment, but I can’t take this.” I held out the watch.

I wished I could’ve kept it, but I’d always wished for things I couldn’t have.

Love. Affection. Worthiness. Something deep and unconditional that I could call my own.

In the grand scheme of things, a watch was nothing. It was beautiful, and I hated how much I wanted something that meant nothing, but it was only an accessory. If someone wanted it, they could buy it.

Those other things, no amount of money could buy.

Christian’s expression flickered for the first time since he entered. “I gave it to you. It’s yours.”

“I’m giving it back. It’s too much,” I said firmly. “This is a watch, Christian. It must be worth tens of thousands of dollars.”

“Ninety-two thousand, six hundred.”

I flinched at both the number and his cool tone.

“It’s only money. I have plenty of it.” Christian’s brows dipped into a V. “I thought you’d like it. You said you needed a new watch.”

I said that. It’d been an off-the-cuff comment I made weeks ago.

I couldn’t believe Christian remembered it.

“If I wear this, I’ll get robbed the instant I step out of the house. Even if I don’t…” I dragged a breath through my compressed lungs.

The oxygen stoked flames of old frustration until they incinerated my inhibitions and the rest of my words spilled out.

“It’s not just the watch. It’s everything. Our arrangement, my bodyguard, living here rent-free, taking your jet to New York. I feel like I’m your mistress, except we’re not having sex. You’re not my boyfriend. I’m not sure if we’re even friends. So tell me, are you doing all this? And don’t tell me it’s to congratulate me on my follower count or because you feel guilty someone broke into my apartment. I’m an optimist, not an idiot.”

If it were anyone else, I would suspect Christian was trying to lure me into some weird sexual arrangement. But he was rich and gorgeous enough that he didn’t need to lure anyone into anything. People lined up to do his bidding without him having to ask.

Why was he giving me special treatment when he barely knew me?

The deafening march of the seconds passing by on the wall clock matched the muscle jumping in Christian’s jaw.

Not a word, only silence.

He was a vault, brimming with secrets and sealed with a lock not even a master thief could pick. Danger pulsed around him, screaming at me to stop and turn back before it was too late.

Like a reckless fool, I forged on.

“I don’t expect you to answer. You never do. But, while I’m grateful for your help with the stalker, I can’t take anymore from you than I already have.”

I held the watch out further. His hands remained at his sides, but the weight of his stare was a physical press against my skin.

“We signed a contract, but the boundaries have blurred since I moved in. It’s time we revert to the original terms of our agreement. We’re together in public only, for mutually beneficial reasons, and we’re housemates until we find my stalker and put him behind bars. That’s we are. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The words stacked up like bricks in the wall I was building between him and my misguided heart.

Only my ragged breaths interrupted the agonizingly slow pass of time.

My feet hadn’t moved an inch since Christian came home, but my chest heaved like I’d just climbed Mount Everest.

“Nothing more, nothing less.” His lazy repetition of my words sent a shiver of unease down my spine.

My throat was too tight to allow sufficient air through. Everything around us buzzed with a ceaseless, dangerous hum, like a warning before a storm.

He took a step toward me. I took an instinctive step back, and another, and another, until my lower back hit the couch and my heart beat hard enough to bruise.

“Is that what we are, Stella? Housemates who are seeing each other for reasons?” The question was velvety soft, but his eyes glinted like the edge of a freshly sharpened blade.

Christian’s palms sank into the cushions on either side of me, effectively caging me in.

It took all my willpower not to shrink into myself so I didn’t touch him. One graze, and I would combust into flames. I was sure of it.

But I refused to give him the satisfaction of hiding, so I lifted my chin and tried not to think about the mere inches separating my body from his.

“That’s all we’re supposed to be.”

“I didn’t ask you what we’re supposed to be. I asked you what we are.”

“You never answer my questions,” I said defiantly. “Why should I answer yours?”

The hum intensified, sweeping over us like a tidal wave over the shore. Christian’s eyes darkened until the pupils nearly obscured the molten gold of his irises.

“Your questions.” The cruel cut of his smile injected ice into my veins, and I suddenly regretted asking him anything at all. “You want to know Stella? Why I gave you the watch, why I moved you into my house, my , when I’ve lived alone for over a decade and had planned to do so for the rest of my life?”

Every word spiked my blood with adrenaline until I was drowning in it. In him. In this wild vortex I’d sucked us into with no escape route in sight.

“It’s because you haven’t looked me in the eye since New York. Because you’re all I can fucking think about no matter where I am or who I’m with, and the thought of you hurt or upset makes me want to raze this city to the ground.” Soft, almost desperate viciousness coated his voice. “I’ve never wanted someone more, and I’ve never hated myself more for it.”

The vortex dragged me deeper, submerging me beneath the waves of a thousand different emotions. Any words I might’ve spoken were too tangled up in my chest to escape.

A bitter smile slashed across that heartbreaking face. “

fucking why.”

In a cool brush of air, Christian was gone.

The door slammed shut behind him, and I collapsed against the couch, the watch dangling from my fingers and the ruins of the world as I knew it at my feet.