Oh my god…

  My legs shake and waves of pleasure travel through every nerve-way in my body.

  I come apart with his name on my lips, with him staring deep into my eyes.

  He doesn’t let me pull the wand away until he’s certain I’ve reached the height of my climax—until he’s certain I can’t take anymore.

  Catching my breath, I shut my eyes and fall back against the top cushions.

  As I’m coming down, I feel Ryder moving over me and adjusting my dress.

  Then I hear him whispering into my ear.

  “It’s two hundred and fifty-thousand dollars a year, depends on what you make of it, and I’ve never heard any complaints.” He pauses. “Courier or carrier tasks. Depends on what I need for the week.”

  What? I slowly regain my senses.

  “There’s no need for benefits since several professionals are a call away if you ever need anything.” He doesn’t say another word.

  “What are you—” I open my eyes and see him heading toward the door. “I’m not sure that I followed anything you just said.”

  “You previously spoke to two different people on my staff, wanting more information about the position,” he says. “I just answered every question you asked. Did I leave one out?”

  I shake my head.

  I’m completely stunned.

  “Good. Come see me whenever you’re ready to start.” He turns away again and opens the door.

  “Wait.” I stand to my feet, wobbling slightly as I move closer to him. “What if I do need help with my divorce? If I asked you for a little, what would you say? And how much would it cost me?”

  “I’d happily give you more than a little,” he says, pressing a finger against my bottom lip. “And it would cost you nothing. As far as what I’d say, I’d tell you to consider it handled.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.” He’s staring into my eyes all over again. “Is my help what you want, Autumn?”

  I hesitate for a few seconds, wanting to weigh the ramifications of what this might mean for Nate, but he’s using every weapon in his arsenal to harm me. With no regard for my pain at all.

  “Yes.” I nod. “I want your help.”

  “Say less.” He doesn’t ask any further questions. There’s no “Give me his phone number,” “Show me what law firm he’s using,” or “Tell me everything I should know about him,” statements either.

  Nothing.

  “I think you should go to bed now,” he says.

  “I can’t. I need to return my neighbor’s license plate first.”

  “You need to do what?” He raises his eyebrow.

  “My car isn’t legally registered yet, so I borrowed his plate to drive without the worry of getting pulled over.”

  He looks half-amused, half-disturbed. “And you’re worried about me being potentially dangerous?”

  “You’re far past ‘potentially.’”

  “I’ve never stolen anything.”

  “I’ve never made an Uber driver cry.”

  “I’ll handle this license plate situation for you, as well.” He offers nothing more on the Uber subject. “Get some sleep, Autumn.”

  “I will in a minute, after you leave.”

  As if he doesn’t trust me to ever follow his suggestion, he clasps my hand and leads me into my bedroom.

  Pulling back the sheets, he motions for me to climb onto the mattress.

  Stubbornly, I take my time.

  When I’m flat on my back, he slides a hand between my thighs and yanks off my panties, tossing them onto the floor.

  As if he knows that I’m tempted to fight for the last word, he pulls a blanket over me and shakes his head.

  “Don’t waste your energy.”

  I stare at him as he smooths the covers. Then he whispers, “It’s not Mister R or Mister Ryder for you, Autumn. It’s just Ryder.”

  “Okay.”

  “Pick up when I call you tomorrow. Don’t ignore me again.” He takes the last word before hitting the lights, and I drift into a much-needed sleep.

  In the morning, I step outside and see that Ryder and his Lamborghini are long gone.

  My car is sparkling under the morning’s early light, and it’s freshly washed and detailed, down to its silver hubcaps.

  I circle it in awe, noticing a temporary sticker on the back window with a new license plate number. And there’s a beautiful green gift box resting on the center console.

  Intrigued, I unlock the driver’s side door and pick it up.

  Slowly tugging at its ribbon, I tear off the top once it gives way.

  What the…

  My stomach falls to the ground once I come face to face with what’s inside and my knees buckle beneath me.

  My heart beats wildly inside my chest—begging me to run like hell all over again—and a part of me refuses to believe that I’m in reality.

  I can’t be.

  If I am, I’m unsure of what color to paint Ryder’s newest flag.

  “Red” doesn’t seem quite dark enough.

  End of Episode 13

  Episode 14

  Autumn

  Bloodstains.

  Bright red and dark brown bloodstains.

  They’re splattered all over the walls and trickling down my former lawyer’s shirt via the Polaroid picture that sits inside the box.

  With his sleeves pushed up to his elbows and pure fear radiating from his face, Mr. Walsh is sitting at a table with two blackened eyes and a mouthful of blood.

  In cursive, at the bottom of the photograph, are a few hastily written lines:

  I’m sorry for playing both sides of the field & not working on your divorce fast enough.

  Please accept the contents inside as my formal apology.

  I press a finger against his swollen cheek, feeling guilty for ever pushing him into Ryder’s orbit.

  The more I stare at the picture, the more bruises and pain I see.

  What in the actual fuck…

  Trembling, I lift the photo and see the other “contents” inside the box: The house key I left behind on Nate’s dresser, other side-view pictures of Ryder and me at Crafts & Notes, and a check that totals all the hours that Mr. Walsh ever billed to me.

  The note at the bottom reads, “A refund for insufficient service.”

  There’s a bloodstain on the edge of that, too.

  I drop the box to the pavement, sending everything crashing to the ground.

  I’m not sure how Ryder found Mr. Walsh to “handle” him mere hours after he left me last night, but I’m not sticking around to find out.

  I’m getting the hell out of here.

  “Hey, Miss?” a deep voice calls out from across the parking lot. “Miss?”

  Shit. I stoop down to pick everything up, rushing to tuck everything inside.

  “Need some help with that?” A man in khakis and a striped blue and white shirt stands in front of me. “I am your neighbor after all.”

  “You won’t be for long.” I swallow. “I mean, no. No need for any help with this.”

  “Suit yourself then.” He holds up his hands in a playful surrender. “I, uh, I was wondering if you’ve noticed anything suspicious around here today.”

  “Not that I can think of.” I notice blood on my old keychain and suck in a slow breath as I push it deeper into the box. “Everything looks beyond normal to me.”

  “Are you sure?” He runs a hand through his hair. “Some random guy showed up to detail my car a few hours ago. Then he said, ‘Don’t even think about talking to your next-door neighbor.’”

  I look around, wondering if someone can see that he’s not following that advice in the slightest.

  If Ryder’s watching me right now…

  “Then again—” the guy says, shrugging, “I guess things could be worse for me.”

  “Yes. Things could be a lot worse for you.”

  “Okay, true reason I’m here.” He steps closer. “I may be overstepping, but I’ve been trying to get your attention since I saw you move in.”

  “Oh?” I’m unsure of what else to say.

  “You’re honestly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’d love to have you over for coffee sometime.”

  “Sure,” I say. “That would be great.”

  “I’ll look out for you, then.” He winks at me. “Come over whenever you want. Any night this week would be perfect.”

  “Will do.” I offer a fake smile—knowing I’ll never show up on his doorstep—and wait for him to walk away.

  Getting inside my car, I set the “gift” on the freshly vacuumed floor and a wave of panic suddenly washes over me.

  The article copies from the library… Did Ryder take those?

  I frantically slide my hand under the passenger seat, rummaging around for the bag.

  My fingers grasp the shoulder strap and I pull out the bag to unzip it.

  All the copies are still there, untouched.

  Letting out a sigh of relief, I crank the engine.

  There’s nowhere I have to be, nowhere I can think to go, but I press my foot against the pedal and follow the road.

  When I hit the main street, Ryder’s name crosses my dashboard via phone call.

  I answer before it can make it through a complete ring, but I don’t utter a word.

  “Hello, Autumn,” he says, his voice deep. “Are you there?”

  “Yes, Ryder.”

  “How are you this morning?”

  “Slightly terrified and beyond confused.”

  “I’m very sorry to hear that.” He sounds genuinely concerned. “Is there something else that I need to come over and assist you with?”

  “I think you’ve done more than enough.” I shake my head. “Why did you do that to Mr. Walsh?”

  “Because you said that you wanted me to handle it.”

  “I said I wanted your help.”

  “And I gave it to you.” There’s a smile in his voice. “Would you like me to take it back?”

  “I don’t want you to hurt anyone else on my behalf.”

  “I didn’t lay a single finger on your lawyer, Autumn,” he says. “I’m not a violent man.”

  “But someone who works for you is, right? Is that what you’re implying?”

  He doesn’t respond.

  “Who are you, really?” I ask. “Member of the mob? Mafia boss?”

  “Vampire.” He lets out a low laugh. “I like that theory of yours the best.”

  “Now that I consider it, I’ve never seen you in the daytime.”

  “You have an appointment with your new lawyer at five o’clock.” He ignores my comment. “The ink on your divorce papers should dry right after.”

  “I have a job interview with another company later this afternoon.” I’m determined to read every article in my arsenal long before then. “I’ve decided to keep my options open.”

  His low laughter comes over the line again. “I’ll text you the address for where you need to meet the lawyer. Don’t keep him waiting.”

  “You can send me an invoice, too. I want to pay you back.”

  “I’ve already told you that you don’t have to pay for anything,” he says. “That’ll never change.”

  “In that case, it’s free for you to tell me who you are. Can you do that?”

  “I’m a man who is beyond interested in you,” he says. “I’m also a man who has answered more questions in the past two days than I ever have in my entire life.”

  “If that’s true, that means you never answer them.”

  “Exactly.”

  Silence.

  “Is there anything else you want to say, Autumn?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I don’t agree with your methods at all, but thank you for your help with my divorce.”

  “You’re more than welcome,” he says. “Would you like to come over and kill time with me until your meeting?”

  “Yes. I mean—no.” The thought of seeing his gorgeous face collides with the panicked picture of Mr. Walsh. “I have some important plans to handle today.”

  “Fair enough.” He knows I’m lying; I can tell. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  I end the call, and my dashboard instantly flashes with his promised message.

  234 Whitten Avenue

  Top floor, Resno’s Restaurant.

  5 o’clock.

  Saving the address, I steer my car onto the highway.

  I know exactly where I can kill time until five…

  End of Episode 14

  Episode 15

  Autumn

  My former picture-perfect suburbia is still eerily serene and sterile.

  Every home’s bright blue trash bin is perfectly aligned for today’s pickup, and the bright dahlias that once dotted the doorways for fall are now replaced with holiday wreaths to welcome the holidays.

  While I circle the block, I call Nate’s office to confirm he’s still there before pulling into the driveway.

  To my surprise, he hasn’t changed the garage code or re-keyed the entry door.

  I head upstairs to our bedroom, bracing myself for the sight of new clothes that belong to his mistress, a redecorated bedspread, or new picture frames, but it’s still the same.

  Absolutely nothing has changed…

  Not wanting to waste any time wandering down a broken memory lane, I head to the closet and thumb through my remaining hangers.

  I take down all the suits and blouses, stuffing them inside a bin.

  A red pair of heels I previously missed are next, along with my collection of custom violin pegs.

  My wedding dress stares at me from inside its clear garment bag—angering me with its waste of a design—and I contemplate whether I have time to burn it.

  Probably not…

  Walking over to Nate’s side of the closet, I open his top dresser drawer.

  As always, his hundred-dollar socks are tightly rolled and organized, his custom cufflink collection sits protected in glass, and—

  My eyes catch sight of where he keeps his top contacts’ business cards, and my world shifts to a complete stop.

  On top is a slightly worn one that reads, “Edward Rochester.”

  I pick it up, thinking I must be misreading the name, but the letters are clear as day.

  And the font is exactly the same.

  Flipping it over, I notice that the phone number differs from the one Ryder gave me, and the words ‘7 o’clock, my estate’ are etched in faint black ink at the corner.

  They know each other?

  I lean against the edge of the wood, attempting to connect the dots, but I have no idea where to start with this puzzle. No idea what the final picture is supposed to look like.

  When would they have even met?

  My mind reels with possibilities as I tuck it into my back pocket, and I make a mental note to call the number later.

  Keep moving, Autumn. Keep moving…

  I pull open his other drawers, looking for anything I may want to keep for myself.

  After several minutes of searching, my reward is a wad of cash worth two thousand dollars and his favorite Audemars Piguet watch.

  As I’m carrying the bin to my car, Julie pushes a stroller through her front door.

  She takes one long look at me and opens her mouth, but no words fall from her lips.

  I don’t stand around waiting for them.

  Popping the trunk, I toss the things inside and slide behind the wheel.

  “Autumn, wait!” She waves once she’s reached my mailbox. “Wait!”

  Ugh. I grit my teeth and roll down my window. “If you’re expecting me to apologize for what I last said to you, don’t hold your breath.”

  “I’m not expecting anything,” she says, her voice soft. “I just want to say good luck with your new life.”

  “That’s it?” I wait for her to serve me one last dose of venom—one final sting for the road—but she only stares.

  “That’s it,” she says, her face devoid of any judgment. “I hope it all works out for you.”

  “You, too,” I say. “Hope you remain happily married.”

  “I never said that I was happy.” She pushes her stroller past me. “Take care, Autumn…”

  End of Episode 15

  Episode 16

  Autumn

  The Resno’s restaurant faces Puget Sound, giving every guest a picture-perfect view of the Pacific’s coastal waters. Its panoramic windows stretch from the ceiling to the floor, showing the backside of Seattle through thinly-plated glass.

  “I think you’re at the wrong place, Miss.” The woman at the hostess stand smiles at me. “We have a strict dress code for club-level members. No offense.”

  “I wasn’t told anything about that.” I look over my jeans and white blouse. “I’m here to meet a lawyer.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Okay…” She crosses her arms. “Well, what’s your name?”

  “Autumn Jane.”

  “Oh, I—” Her entire face pales. “My sincere apologies, Miss Jane. Right this way, please.”

  Confused by her sudden change in demeanor, I follow her through an elegant dining room full of well-dressed patrons.

  “Here is your table.” She stops in front of a white-clothed table in the back corner.

  It’s set for one with a wine glass, a menu, and a stack of papers.

  Avoiding my gaze, she pulls out a chair.

  “If there’s anything you’d like to eat this evening, our top staff members are on standby waiting to serve you. Request whatever you want, even if it isn’t on our menu, and we’ll make sure you receive it.”

  “I don’t want to make things difficult for anyone,” I say. “Do you have a Caesar salad?”

  She rushes away without responding.

  Less than a minute later, a server sets a fresh plate of bright green lettuce in front of me.

  A second server appears, dressing it with a fresh layer of shredded cheese and pepper.