The next morning Aria woke to the soft chime of her phone on the nightstand. She reached for it without opening her eyes, expecting another anonymous taunt. Instead the screen showed a forwarded message from Ethan’s security team.
*Package delivered. Recipient confirmed. Watch the feed at 09:15.*
She sat up, heart already picking up pace. Ethan was in the shower; she could hear the water running. She slipped out of bed, pulled on his discarded shirt, and padded to the living room. The large monitor on the wall flickered to life when she tapped the secure link.
The camera feed showed a sleek downtown café. Tamara sat at a corner table, laptop open, earbuds in. She looked composed—hair perfect, coffee untouched. A courier in a plain uniform approached, clipboard in hand.
“Tamara? Signatu
