Bossy Romance: Chapter 5
Bossy Romance: Single Dad BWWM (Billionaire Dads)
âThis place is . How much did those sculptures cost, girl? And are these paintings real? They look real.â
I stare in horror as my sister swaggers toward Rowan and Adam. Sheâs wearing a cheetah-print romper that barely covers anything. Her hair is extra-spiky at the top and dyed blue today. Sheâs chewing gum with her mouth wide open.
My fingers curl into fists and I grind my teeth to dust. Launching ahead, I fling myself at Lyra and wrap my fingers around her arm.
âOw. Girl, youâre hurting me.â
âLetâs go.
,â I growl into her ear, trying to drag her away.
âNo.â She wrenches her hands free and steps back. Massaging her arm, she pastes that seedy grin on her face again. Itâs the expression she wears when sheâs up to no good. âI just got here. Iâm not ready to leave.â
âHow did you even get in?â I hiss. Because we deal with sensitive information as well as secret projects, Vision Tech has a strict security code. Nobody is allowed to enter without a visitorâs pass and Lyra isnât wearing a lanyard.
âIt was such chaos downstairs that I just⦠swept right in,â she explains with a defiant thrust of her head.
I suck in a sharp breath to keep the groan from seeping out. Just my luck that my sister was here and able to capitalize on the frenzy.
âLyra, I donât have time to mess with you right now,â I snap. âAs you can see, weâre a little busy.â
Our lab technicians have been called in to discuss clean up and the employees are returning to their desks. An announcement will be made on the official communication network, but Iâm sure the conspiracy theories and private chats are alive with rumors. I have to get in front of that.
Itâs doubtful that anyone will guess todayâs incident was caused by our secret bossâs secret son, but itâs still important to calm them down.
My phone buzzes.
I donât need to look at the screen to know reporters are calling.
The alarms alerted the local precinct, which alerted the local news. Weâve got news vans packed like vultures outside.
This isnât the kind of press Vision Tech needs.
The day already feels super long and Lyraâs presence is only making things worse. My head aches like Iâm being slammed in the head with an invisible hammer.
âLeave,â I say under my breath. âNow.â
Lyraâs mouth twists into a thin, bitter smile. I sense that sheâd explode and start cussing at me if we didnât have an audience.
My gaze slides to Rowan, who seems to have temporarily forgotten his guilt and is watching us both with curious eyes.
â
, Lyra,â I command when my sister doesnât move.
She takes a step back.
âWhoa. Hey.â Adam jogs toward us.
I squeeze my eyes shut and dig my teeth into my bottom lip.
âI didnât know Nova had an older sister,â Adam says in a friendly voice.
âActually, Iâm the younger one,â Lyra corrects him.
âOh.â Adam looks taken aback.
Iâm not surprised. The path Lyra chose was a difficult one. Although sheâs beautiful, thereâs a hardness to her. She wears the sheen of someone whoâs addicted to making the worst possible decisions in life.
âWe got two different daddies, but we look alike âcuz mama had a type.â Lyra smirks mischievously. âIâm Lyra Houghton.â
âAdam Harrison.â Adam shakes her hand firmly.
I want to wrench their fingers apart.
I know my sister. She only shows up when she wants something, and that something is never good. The amount of times mom had to bail her out of jail is unthinkable. Even at the end, when our mother got sick, Lyra was still making trouble.
The death certificate says one thing, but I know mom died of a broken heart.
Adam, clueless as he is, gives Lyra a welcoming smile. âDid you come to see Nova?â
âYeah. I asked her for a job the other day and she said sheâd look into it, but she never got back to me.â
âLyra,â I hiss, my heart slamming against my ribs.
âA job?â Adam fastens me with a quizzical look. âOf course weâd have a job here at Vision Tech for you.â
I feel the blood rushing out of my face and going straight to my toes.
For someone who claims to know me so well, Adam is being intentionally obtuse right now.
âNo, we donât,â I snap. Turning to face him, I try to beam âstay out of thisâ from my eyes.
Adamâs eyebrows pull tight.
I suck in a deep breath because I donât want to unleash my irrational side in front of him or Rowan. The little boy has been through a lot today and the last thing he needs is to witness me fighting with my sister.
Lyra turns to the eleven-year-old. A curious gleam in her eye, she bends over until her breasts are practically dangling out of her shirt. âWho do we have here?â
I step in front of Lyra to cut her out of Rowanâs sight. âNone of your business. Get out, Lyra.â
âNovaâ¦â Adam sounds astonished.
âIâll see my sister to the front door and then Iâll ask Steve to take you guys home. Please be prepared to leave, Mr. Harrison.â
Adamâs shock is palpable, but I donât give him time to correct me. Grabbing my sister by the arm again, I drag her away. Lyra fights me, squirming like a fish out of water, but Iâm desperate to kick her out and sheâs unable to shake my grip.
We turn the bend and my eyes widen when I see all the employees flooding the hallway. Some of them are moving fast while others are walking slowly, huddled in groups with their heads pushed together.
âMiss Delaney.â
âDo you know what happened?â
âWas anyone hurt?â
The questions come barreling at me like bullets.
I drop Lyraâs arm and try to keep my voice level. âUhâ¦â I blink rapidly. Itâs hard to swallow right now, much less think. âWeâll make an official announcement later. But no one was hurt.â
Sighs of relief break out in the crowd.
As the news dissipates, I notice people giving Lyra weird looks. She stands out⦠and not in a good way.
No one speaks aloud, but the questions are practically popping on their tongues.
âIf youâll excuse me.â I gesture for them to make a path.
They step back and allow us to walk past.
One step.
Two.
Iâm about to let loose a breath of relief when Lyra breaks away from me.
My pulse picks up speed as she whirls around and faces the Vision Tech employees.
âIâm her sister,â Lyra announces, lifting a hand. âIâm related to your boss.â
âStop it,â I warn in a low voice. Hauling her around, I drag her into the elevator and slam on the button so the doors close.
When weâre alone, I give my sister a stormy look.
Lyra smirks at me, her exaggerated lashes looking like she cut the tail off a bird and stuck it to her eyes.
âWhat is wrong with you?â I ask heatedly.
The smile remains intact. âYouâre such a rancid witch.â
Her words singe my skin like poison.
âYou really have no idea how disgusting you are, do you?â Lyra taunts.
âI donât care what you think.â
âNo, obviously. You only care what these privileged little white nerds think.â She leans against the wall, her chin tipped up in challenge. âDo you know how pathetic you look? Youâre the big boss and you still crawl like a worm in front of them.â
âThis is my place of , Lyra. You canât just barge in when you feel like it and make a commotion.â
âA commotion? No, honey. You were the one making a commotion. Dragging me around, acting like youâd done something wrong for being seen with me.â She pushes off the wall, one corner of her lip curling up. âIt must really bother you every day that your skin is dark like mine, huh?â Her eyes slide up and down over me. âHow you must you had their lips and their noses and their backgrounds. It kills you, doesnât it? That you can never fit into this world, no matter how hard you try to force yourself. Itâs like a square box trying to fit in a round, little white hole.â
âI donât have anything to prove to you.â My eyes stare straight ahead.
Lyra laughs. âBy the way, nice hair.â
I self-consciously touch one of my curls.
âYou think wearing your natural hair will make you like yourself more? Nah, sis. Youâre still buttoned up so tight that not even an afro can save you. Thereâs just too much you gotta wade through before youâre free.â
âYou think you have any right to lecture me?â I spin on her. âWhy did you show up at Vision Tech, Lyra? Was it to beg me for money? Or maybe to beg Adam for the cash I wouldnât give you? You think thereâs anything honorable about that? You think youâre making the world a better place by being lazy and bitter and blaming your circumstances on everyone else?â
âAt least Iâm not conforming.â
âConforming to Having a stable job? Goals? Ambitions?â The words claw at my throat. I hate that Iâm unravelling. I hate that she can get under my skin. âWhat do you really want, Lyra?â
âWhat are you talking about?â She blinks innocently at me.
âYou think I donât know how you move?â
âI told you. I donât need no more money from you. I just want the job.â
âAnd I told that I can try to pull some strings somewhere else. Not at Vision Tech.â
âIf itâs not here, Iâon want it.â
My eyes narrow on her. âWhy are you so obsessed with getting access to Vision Tech?â
Her gaze spills to the floor.
I step toward her but, before I can push the conversation, the elevator doors open.
Lyra springs out. âThanks for the mini-tour, sis. Next time, you can show me more of the place.â
I stumble out of the elevator, but Lyraâs fast. She takes off through the turn pikes and disappears out the front door like a poof of smoke.
My heart burns. Something tells me that todayâs visit wasnât so innocent or coincidental, but I donât have any proof.
âMiss Delaney, are you okay?â Henry approaches me, a concerned wrinkle between his bushy eyebrows.
âIâm fine, Henry. Thank you.â
âYou look like youâre going to faint.â He slides a chair over to me so I can sit.
âI donât need it.â The words escape on a wheeze.
Henry doesnât listen. He waits stubbornly until I take a seat and then he runs off to get a bottle of water for me.
âThanks.â I accept the bottle from him and untwist the cap.
Henry folds his arms over his chest. âWas that really your sister?â
âYeah.â
âShe seems⦠interesting.â
I let out a bark of laughter.
âYou need anything?â Henry asks me. The way heâs looking at me, I sense that his offer of help is sincere.
Heâs a good kid.
A smart one. He won scholarships all the way through to his Masters and is now working on his PHD.
As Henry continues to stare, I feel something growing between us. The connection isnât born from smarts or even from working at the same company. Itâs that unspoken understanding that comes when people of the same complexion, the same background, enter a room where they donât fit.
I release a sharp breath. âIâm okay.â
âSure.â He bobs his head.
âReally.â I clear my throat. âGet back to work. Even with todayâs surprises, we still have a lot to do.â
He hesitates.
âHenry, if you intend on earning a permanent position, I suggest you listen to me.â
He trots away quickly.
I smile at his back.
âMiss Delaney,â a security guard approaches me, âweâre trying to keep the reporters away, but theyâre refusing to take no for an answer. Should we get the police involved?â
âNo, thatâll only make this bigger.â I rub my temple, hating that I didnât bring my purse with me. I keep my headache pills in there and I could really use one.
The security guard looks expectantly at me.
I drop my hand. âTell them weâll post a press release in two hours. We wonât be giving any exclusive interviews so theyâre just wasting their time hanging around.â
He nods. âYes, maâam.â
As he hurries to do what I asked, I call the PR director. âSend out a memo. Tell everyone to avoid the reporters.â
âAlready done. But Iâm not sure how weâll control this. The reporters will still try to corner people. Theyâll just do it out of sight.â
âI know.â I check my watch. âIn the next hour, I want someone from PR to go downstairs and pretend to be surprised by the reporters. Be as clueless as you can and let them coax you into giving an interview.â
âWhat? You want us to tell them what happened today?â
âNo.â I straighten my shoulders and walk determinedly to the elevator. âSteer the conversation towards our convention and Mr. Harrisonâs Inventor of the Year award.â
âYou want to use this for free publicity,â he says with quiet understanding and a little awe.
âIf they want to write about Vision Tech, letâs give them something to write about.â
âYouâre incredible, Nova.â
I shrug off the compliment. âNot every journalist will bite, but letâs see if we can control the story.â
âHow many people do you want on this mission?â
âThree. More than that will look suspicious.â
âGot it.â
My head is throbbing even harder.
I really hope this day ends soon, but I have a feeling that my wish wonât be granted.
On the way back to my office, I contact my acquaintance at the security company. Cell phone to my ear, I demand that they keep the security footage private.
âIf I see any hint of what happened today on the news or on social media, Iâm coming at you like a shark. We pay our lawyers a lot of money to be very ruthless. Do you understand?â
âYes, maâam.â
âGood.â I end the call and approach my office.
Iâm surprised to see Adam waiting for me.
He and Rowan are still here?
I throw the door open, my heels clicking hard against the tiles. Adam spins and his brown eyes fall on me.
âAdââ
âDonât.â He marches up to me, steers me around and pushes me to sit in the sofa. His touch is warm and firm.
I squeeze my eyes shut, my headache easing as if his presence is a cure to my ailments.
âAdam.â His name escapes on an exhale, a relieved sigh. Itâs distressingâthatâs what it is. Just being around him helps my pinched nerves. And I canât have that. I shouldnât be relying so much on him when Iâm leaving.
âMiss Nova, are you okay?â Rowan squeaks.
I startle and realize that Rowan is sitting in my office chair. Heâs leaning forward and looks ready to rush over at a momentâs notice.
Adamâs voice is urgent. âRowan, can you get Novaâs purse?â
The little boy pops up, grabs my purse and brings it over to his dad.
âThanks.â Adam unlatches the top and pushes his hand in as if he owns the bag. His arm muscles bulge when he fishes around and, finally, he pulls out my headache medication.
I point. âCan you get my coffee from the table?â
âYouâre not supposed to drink this with coffee,â Adam says firmly.
I bristle at his tone. It sounds like heâs going to be stubborn about this. âThe side-effects make me sleepy, and I canât afford to feel drowsy right now.â
âRowan, I need you to get a cup of water from the kitchen,â Adam instructs his son, completely ignoring me.
âOkay.â Rowan bobs his head.
Adam stops him with a sharp look. âDonât go anywhere else than the kitchen. Come right back here.â
âI will,â Rowan promises.
âThanks, Rowan,â I say in a more gentle tone.
The little boy scurries out of the room and shuts the door behind him.
I notice Adam staring at me and struggle to sit up straighter. âIâm fine.â
âYou donât look fine.â
âHow do I look?â I toss back.
His brown eyes flash with concern, then spin through a kaleidoscope of unreadable emotions, finally landing on one I can nameâfrustration. âYou look like youâve been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders for way too long.â
âYouâre over-exaggerating.â
His fingers skate over my head. At his touch, my stomach flutters with a horde of deranged butterflies.
Thatâs bad.
Very bad.
I cannot have butterflies with my boss.
âYouâre sweating,â Adam whispers.
âPeople sweat.â I gently push his hand away.
He eases back. âI contacted the PR team. I heard what youâre going to do with the reporters.â
âAre you trying to scold me or praise me?â
His lips twitch. âIf I say Iâm scared of you?â
âA compliment then.â
He chuckles.
âWe donât have time to waste.â I close my eyes. âSince the news is so eager for something to report on, we should give them something to work with.â
I him smiling. I donât know how to explain it, but itâs as palpable to me as my next breath.
âDid you see your sister off?â Adam asks.
I clamp up.
Adam notices my discomfort, but he doesnât let it go. âWhy didnât you tell me you had a sister?â
I dig my fingers into the couch.
Okay, Adam is just as effective as my pills.
But not when he starts prodding and prying at the parts of me that I keep separate from him.
I open my eyes and notice his dark gaze boring into me. Itâs like a power drill trying to make its way into my skull. And since I have my own jackhammer currently going to town inside my cranium, I could do without another power tool.
âYou donât need to know her,â I say finally.
âYeah, well, for a second there, I thought I didnât know you.â
I frown at him.
His eyes, as dark as the midnight sky, are firm on my face. âWhy did you treat your sister like that?â
No.
No freaking way.
Iâm not doing this with Adam. Pushing off the couch so he has to back away from me, I stumble to my feet.
âNova, Iâve never heard you talk to that way. Not even a staff member who messed up badly.â
I turn away from him.
âWhatâs going on between you two?â Adam presses.
âIt has nothing to do with you, Adam,â I spit. Heâs prying at the wounds inside my heart that I never let anyone close to. It hurts too much.
âWhy donât you want to give her a job? I donât have a problem with it.â
âWell, I do.â
âWhy?â
âBecause she doesnât deserve it,â I snap.
âNo matter what sheâs done, sheâs still your sister.â He points out. âIâm sure she wouldnât have come to you unless there was no other option.â
He has no idea what heâs talking about.
âMaybe it isnât my place to interveneââ
I whirl around, my eyes burning with flames. âYouâre right. Itâs not.â
He doesnât flinch. He just watches me like heâs trying to figure me out.
âWhy are you harping on this?â I demand.
âHonestly? It was uncomfortable watching you treat your sister like that when I know thatâs not who you really are.â
I open my mouth to blast him about the way heâs been treating Rowan and how he has no right to judge me. Just then, Rowan pokes his head into the room. When he sees that heâs been noticed, he walks over and hands me a cup of water.
âThanks, sweetie.â I take a headache pill and knock it back with water.
Rowan stands right in front of me as if itâs his personal responsibility to see me take the pills. When Iâm done, he accepts the cup back from me and looks down. âIâm sorry, Nova.â
âDonât be, sweetie.â
My phone rings again.
I round the desk and take my seat, outing yet another fire.
Adamâs stare is unwavering and thereâs a dangerous moment where I feel myself feeling almost guilty. But why should I?
the one whoâs meddling. Heâs the one whoâs judging from the outside looking in without knowing the facts.
I turn away from him stubbornly and stoke the flames of my anger. At least those butterflies have dropped dead. Thatâs a step in the right direction.
Adam finally gets enough of burning me with his gaze. He motions to the door so I know heâs leaving.
I nod and dismiss him coldly. He can have a say in how I do business, in how I handle PR nightmares and even in how I choose to style my clothes, but he has no right to meddle in my personal life.
Not a single one.
I end up staying late at Vision Tech. The press release went out, and our plan to distract the journalists was a rousing success. Now, the news that Adam is receiving the Inventor of the Year award is plastered everywhere.
With all the buzz around Vision Tech, I asked the PR team to work overtime. Thereâs no way Iâm going to let an opportunity like this slip by. Itâs best to keep the momentum going while we still have people buzzing about us.
I return to my office wearily and flip on the light.
Iâm surprised to see a paper bag from my favorite sandwich place sitting on the desk. My lips curl up, but I refuse to let Adamâs peace offering sway me.
Heâs not going to get out of the dog house that easily.
Sighing hard, I step out of my pumps and massage my feet.
Thereâs a knock on the door.
I glance up expectantly and my face falls when I see Henry striding in.
âHey.â
âHeyâ¦â I answer hesitantly.
âWere you expecting someone else?â he asks, adjusting his glasses.
âOh no. Not at all.â
âI saw your light was still on so I came to check on you,â Henry says, staying near the door. His eyes swing to the paper bag and return expectantly to me.
My heart thuds. âDid⦠you buy this?â
He rubs the back of his neck. âUh, Iâve seen you eat sandwiches from that place before and I didnât see you eat much today soâ¦â
âThank you.â I blink, taken aback.
âSure.â Henry offers me a shy, youthful smile. âSure.â
I slip my feet back into my pumps. âDid you have something else to say?â
âNo. Thatâs it.â He turns away. Then he immediately turns back. âMiss Delaney, I wanted you to know that I really admire you,â he blurts.
I lean back.
âYouâre so brilliant and put-together that I thought you were fromâ¦â His eyes drop to his shoes and he wrings his hands together. âI mean, I guess⦠I thought you were like all the people here. The ones who attended private schools since kindergarten. The ones with dads who own country clubs and play golf on the weekends. I thought youââ
âWere privileged and rich?â
He licks his lips nervously. âI wouldnât say it like that.â
âOf course not.â
I get it. He saw my sister and realized where I come from. He took one look at Lyra and he knew exactly who she was, what kind of life sheâd probably led and where she was going.
Everyone does that. We make snap judgements about a person based on their looks, their personality, their intelligence. Iâm not surprised that Henry would buy me a pity sandwich after finding out my family comes from a less-than-stellar background.
âI really donât mean to offend you.â
âIâm not offended, Henry. We all have our own baggage.â
âThatâs notââ He sucks in a deep breath and his eyes skitter away. âIâm screwing this up.â
I check my watch. Itâs late and Iâm not exactly sure what the purpose of this conversation is. âDid you need something else, Henry?â
He must have read the dismissal in my tone or in my expression because he looks a little hurt. Backing away, he shakes his head. âNo, uh, enjoy the rest of your night.â
The door clicks shut.
Alone again, I glance at my messy desk. Thereâs no way I can leave the office like this. Collecting all my colored pens, I sort them according to matte, regular, glitter, and bronze. After straightening my documents, I abandon any further desk organizing, collect my purse, and make my way downstairs.
The sandwich no longer looks appetizing and Iâm not sure if itâs because Iâm tired or because it didnât come from Adam.
My head is me. The headache medication Iâm using should only be taken once every twelve hours, but I might cheat and pop another one before falling into bed.
I meet Steve downstairs and he opens the back door for me.
âGoodnight, Steve,â I say, ducking inside. âIâm sorry to have you working so late.â
He shakes his head at my apology. âI heard it was an eventful day.â
âIt was.â I say nothing more of the matter and Steve doesnât ask.
After a few minutes of driving, I notice Steve heading south instead of north. Alarmed, I unbuckle my seatbelt and scoot to the edge of my seat.
âSteve, this isnât the way to my apartment.â
Steve glances over his shoulder. âI was instructed to take you to Mr. Harrison.â
My shoulders tense on impact. âIâm not going there.â
âMiss Delaney, I have my instructions.â
âWho do you work for, Steve?â
He thinks it over. âMr. Harrison.â
âWhen did he give that instruction?â
âAbout four hours ago.â
What is Adam planning?
I massage my forehead. âSteve, I appreciate that you have your loyalties, but Iâm not in the mood to deal with Adam today. Can you please turn the car around and take me home?â
Steve looks conflicted. âMr. Harrison said you might protest. Iâm supposed to tell you to call him and let him explain.â
Iâm not calling Adam.
âItâs fine, Steve.â I flounce back. Iâll just wait until Steve fulfills his duty and takes me to Adamâs. Then Iâm going to call a cab and go home.
Unfortunately, I donât have a chance to follow through with my plan.
Adam is standing on the driveway when Steve slows the car. He opens my door and motions for me to get out.
My eyes narrow on him. I remain in the car.
âCome out, Nova.â
âSteve is going to take me home.â
âWhy are you so stubborn?â he mumbles.
âMe? Stubborn.â I glare at him. âYouâre the one whoâah!â I let loose a frightened shriek when Adam dives into the backseat, slides his hand under my knee, presses the other to my back and scoops me out of the car like Iâm a fish caught in his net.
I let out another yelp when he gives me a little toss to readjust me in his arms.
Moonlight spills over his strong face, raking silver fingers through his hair. His warm, expresso eyes are set with a defiant glint.
âAdam, what are you doing?â I hiss.
âSee you tomorrow, Steve.â Adam uses his leg to kick the door closed and carries me to the porch.
His house is casting a warm, golden glow on the front lawn. The screen door is open and Adam doesnât slow down when he swings me over the threshold.
I cling tightly to his neck in case I fall, but he has a good grip on me.
âDo you know what time it is, Nova?â Adam asks, his tone frustrated.
âIâm sure you have a watch.â
His hands tighten on me and I feel his chest rumble with a reluctant chuckle. âYouâre still mad.â
âIâm not mad.â
He gives me a slightly crooked, smile and an invisible fist closes around my throat, tightening until I canât breathe.
âWhy did you ask Steve to kidnap me? And whereâs Rowan?â
âRowan is asleep. I think I get dad points for putting him to bed on time.â
âD-dad points?â
âAnd about why I kidnapped youâ¦â Adam sets me down in the sofa and drags a box that was beside the chair. He lifts the lid and, inside, is a beautiful pair of soft slippers.
My jaw drops. âAdam.â
âI was out of line today.â He reaches for my ankle.
I recoil, pulling my foot back.
He stubbornly goes for my heels and slips one off. His head is bowed and focused on the task, so all I can see is the top of his curly hair. âI shouldnât have judged you or pretended to understand your family dynamics. Especially with the way Iâve been treating Rowan.â He glances up, an eyebrow hiked. âI know that was what you were going to tell me.â
My heart bursts open and starts beating like itâs been shot with way too much electricity.
âI care about you, Nova.â He slips my other heels off and sets my foot into the soft shoe. It feels like moving from the hottest flames of hell to stepping on a cloud. I almost sigh in relief.
âAnd Iâm sorry if Iâm overstepping my bounds.â
My eyelashes flutter. âYou kidnapped me just to tell me that?â
âAnd to feed you.â He gestures to the kitchen where a pan of lasagna is waiting. âAlthough Iâll have to heat it up. Itâs gone cold now because doesnât know when to stop working.â
I scrunch my nose at his scolding. âSays the man whoâll stay up for seventy-two hours building a bag that can hover.â
âTouché.â
My lips tremble as I try not to laugh.
Adam glances up, his eyes locked on me. âAm I forgiven?â
âDepends on how good the lasagna is.â
He pretends to wipe sweat from his brow. âOh, now the stakes are high.â
I laugh softly.
âThereâs that beautiful smile.â
Shyness steals over me. The choking sensation is back again.
Adam clears his throat and gets up abruptly. âLet me warm the lasagna.â
As he walks to the kitchen, his phone chirps.
Adam checks the screen and goes stiff.
The air immediately sharpens.
âWho is it?â I ask, on alert. If Lyra somehow got his numberâ¦
Adam turns the phone and shows it to me. The contact reads âUnknown Numberâ.
âWhat does the text say?â
â
.â He looks a little unnerved as he skims the rest of the message. âShe says she needs to talk to me.â