Chapter 45 The Burner Phone
The room was thick with silence.
Dorian’s hand was still in the drawer. The pistol was still in his grip. Veyra stood frozen by the bathroom door, wrapped in nothing but a thin towel, her wet hair dripping onto her shoulders.
She had just stepped out of the shower. Her skin was still flushed pink from the hot water. The towel barely reached mid-thigh. Her legs were bare. Her collarbone was exposed. She felt naked even though she was technically covered.
Dorian’s eyes moved over her. Just for a second. Then he looked away.
He turned his head sharply, like he had been burned. His jaw tightened. His hand finally came out of the drawer, empty. The pistol was gone. He had tucked it away.
"I didn’t hear you knock," Veyra said. Her voice was hoarse. Her throat was still tight from the shower, from the crying, from the rage.
"You didn’t lock the door." His voice was clipped. Controlled. He was looking at the wall. At the window. Anywhere but at her.
She blinked. She had been so upset after Eleanor’s words, after smashing the shampoo bottle, that she had forgotten to turn the lock. Stupid. Careless.
"Right," she said. "Sorry."
Dorian cleared his throat. He took a step toward the door. His movements were stiff. Like he was forcing himself to walk normally.
"The doctor will be here in five minutes," he said. "Dr. Harrison. He needs to examine you. And Lily."
"Okay."
He walked past her. Close enough that she could smell him. Cedar and something clean. And then he stopped.
She saw his nostrils flare. Just slightly. He was breathing in. The scent of her. Soap and shampoo and something else. Something that was just her.
He stood there for a moment. His back was to her. His shoulders were tense.
Then he walked out of the room. The door closed behind him.
In the hallway, Dorian leaned against the wall. He pressed his palm flat against the cool surface. He exhaled. A long, hot breath. The breath he had been holding since he saw her standing there in nothing but a towel.
His heart was pounding. He could not remember the last time his heart had pounded like that.
He pushed off the wall and walked away.
Inside the room, Veyra stood frozen for a moment longer. Then her brain caught up with her body.
Oh Gosh.
She was wearing a towel. A small towel. Her hair was wet. Her skin was flushed. She looked like she had just stepped out of a romance novel cover.
He must think she was trying to seduce him.
Her face went hot. She pressed her hands to her cheeks. They were burning.
"I need to explain," she whispered to herself. "I need to tell him it wasn’t on purpose."
She locked the door. Turned the deadbolt. Pressed her forehead against the wood.
She stayed there for a full minute. Then she pushed off and got dressed.
Jeans. A sweater. Thick socks. Something that covered everything. She blow-dried her hair and pulled it back into a tight ponytail.
She looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was still pink. Her eyes were still red.
She looked like someone who had been through something.
She took a breath. Then another.
A knock came at the door.
She opened it.
Dorian stood in the hallway. Dr. Harrison was beside him. He carried a black bag.
"Mrs. Thorne," Dr. Harrison said. "I’m glad to see you’re in one piece."
"Thank you for coming," she said.
She stepped aside to let them in. Dorian followed. His eyes did not meet hers. She could not look at him either.
Her face was burning again.
Dr. Harrison set his bag on the dresser. He pulled out a stethoscope. A blood pressure cuff. A small penlight.
"I understand you had quite an adventure tonight," he said. "Swimming in a lake. In the dark. While pregnant."
"It wasn’t my smartest moment," Veyra admitted.
"No," Dr. Harrison agreed. "But it was brave. Now let me check you over."
She sat on the edge of the bed. Dr. Harrison wrapped the cuff around her arm. Pumped it up. Watched the gauge.
"Your blood pressure is elevated," he said. "Not dangerously. But higher than I’d like."
"The stress," Veyra said. "From the kidnapping."
Dr. Harrison nodded. He pressed the stethoscope to her chest. Listened. His expression was neutral.
"Your heart rate is also elevated," he said. "One hundred and twelve beats per minute. That’s quite fast."
Veyra seized the opportunity. "The fright," she said. "I was very frightened. For Lily. For myself. For the baby."
Dr. Harrison looked at her. Then he looked at Dorian.
Dorian was standing by the window. His arms were crossed. His face was unreadable. But his jaw was tight.
"How long ago was the rescue?" Dr. Harrison asked.
"A few hours," Dorian said.
Dr. Harrison’s eyebrows rose. "And her heart rate is still over a hundred?"
"Adrenaline," Veyra said quickly. "It takes a while to wear off."
Dr. Harrison did not look convinced. He turned to Dorian.
"I’m not overly concerned," he said. "But she should rest. No stress. No excitement." He paused. "And no sexual activity while she’s still in this state of heightened arousal."
The words hung in the air.
Veyra’s face went crimson. She could feel the heat spreading from her cheeks to her neck to her chest.
Dorian’s composure cracked. Just for a second. His eyes widened. His mouth opened. Then he caught himself.
"Of course," he said. His voice was slightly strained. "I’ll make sure she rests."
Dr. Harrison nodded. He packed up his bag. "I’ll check on Lily now. Then I’ll be on my way. Call me if anything changes."
He left.
The door closed.
The room was quiet.
Dorian was still standing by the window. Veyra was still sitting on the bed. Neither of them moved.
The air was thick. Awkward.
Veyra stared at her hands. They were folded in her lap. Her knuckles were white.
"About what the doctor said," Dorian said. "About sexual activity."
"I know," Veyra said quickly. "It’s fine. I wasn’t planning on—I mean, we’re not—"
"I know."
"The contract is clear. Separate rooms. No expectations."
"I know."
She looked up at him. His gray eyes were fixed on the window. He was not looking at her.
"I just wanted to say," she continued, "that I wasn’t trying to... earlier. When you saw me in the towel. I wasn’t trying to seduce you."
His jaw tightened. "I didn’t think you were."
"I had just gotten out of the shower. I forgot to lock the door. I was upset about Eleanor. About the things she said. I threw a shampoo bottle against the wall."
He turned to look at her. His expression was unreadable.
"I wasn’t trying to seduce you," she said again. "I would never do that. The contract is clear. This is a business arrangement. I don’t want you to think I’m the kind of woman who would—"
"Veyra."
She stopped.
"I believe you." His voice was quiet. Sincere. "You don’t need to explain."
She let out a breath. "Okay."
"Just focus on the baby. Rest. Don’t let Eleanor get to you."
"I’ll try."
He nodded. He turned to leave.
"Dorian," she said.
He stopped.
"What did the kidnapper say? Did he confess? Did he name the person who hired him?"
Dorian was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "He’s a gambler. Deep in debt. He claims he received a phone call. A burner phone. Untraceable. He doesn’t know who hired him. He just followed orders."
Veyra’s heart sank. "So no proof."
"No proof."
She felt the rage rising again. The same rage she had felt in the shower. The same frustration.
Eleanor was going to get away with it.
Dorian left.
Veyra sat on the bed for a long moment. Her hands were shaking again. Not from cold but from anger.
The kidnapper had not named Eleanor. There was no evidence. No witnesses. No trail.
Eleanor was right. There was no way to trace anything back to her.
But Veyra was not going to give up.
She reached for her phone. The screen was cracked from where she had dropped it in the lake. But it still worked.
She scrolled to the messages. The ones from the kidnapper. The photograph of Lily in the cage. The demands. The threats.
She had saved everything.
She stood up. She walked to the door. She needed to show someone. Someone who could do something.
She found Dorian in the hallway outside Lily’s room. Dr. Harrison had just finished examining the little girl. Lily was asleep now, her face peaceful, the bandage on her neck clean and white.
Dorian was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, his eyes tired.
"Here," Veyra said. She held out her phone. "Look at these."
Dorian took the phone. He looked at the screen.
His face changed.
The photograph of Lily in the cage. The message demanding she come alone. The threats.
His jaw tightened. His nostrils flared. His hands began to shake.
Veyra watched him. She had seen him angry before. At the lake. At the café. When his grandmother collapsed.
But this was different.
This was rage. Pure and unfiltered.
His fingers closed around the phone. His knuckles went white. The screen cracked. Then the phone crumpled. He crushed it in his hand like it was made of paper.
Plastic and glass and metal. All of it. Destroyed.
Veyra’s eyes widened. She took a step back. Her hand flew to her mouth.
"I’m sorry," she whispered. "I didn’t mean to—"
Dorian was breathing hard. His gray eyes were blazing. He was looking at the ruined phone in his hand like he wanted to crush it again.
Veyra’s heart pounded. But inside, underneath the fear, something else stirred.
Satisfaction.
She had shown him. She had made him see. The rage in his eyes was not aimed at her. It was aimed at the person who had done this.
Eleanor.
He did not know it yet. But he would. Veyra would make sure of it.
"Sorry," she said again. She made her voice small. Trembling. She looked down at her feet like she was scared.
Inside, she was smiling.