Chapter 12: Someone Was Watching Us

Thayer did not show me the photograph immediately.

He called security first.

Then the police.

Then he tried to convince me to change the venue without explaining why.

"You are being careful," I said. "That usually means you are hiding something."

He placed the photograph on the desk.

I stared at the red X.

"Do you think Bastian sent it?"

"He denies it."

"Gina?"

"She is under monitoring and has no access to the venue details."

"Then who knew?"

Thayer opened a guest list.

Our parents.

His brother Julian.

Vivienne.

The wedding planner.

The church administrator.

Six security staff.

Too many people.

"We cancel," he said.

"No."

"Meredith."

"If we cancel every time someone threatens us, then they are already controlling the wedding."

"A ceremony is not worth risking your life."

"Neither is fear worth surrendering everything."

His jaw tightened.

"This is not stubbornness. This is security."

"Then improve the security."

We stared at each other.

This was our first real argument.

Not about Bastian.

Not about the past.

About us.

"You asked me to choose you," I said. "Do not turn that choice into another cage."

The anger left his face.

"That is not what I want."

"Then do not decide alone."

He exhaled slowly.

"We keep the date. We change the venue privately and tell no one until the morning of the ceremony."

"Agreed."

"You accept additional security."

"Agreed."

"And if there is a credible threat—"

"We decide together."

He nodded.

That mattered more than winning.

The investigation traced the envelope to a courier service paid with a prepaid card.

Security footage showed a hooded figure wearing gloves.

No face.

No vehicle.

Only one useful detail.

A silver bracelet.

Vivienne wore one exactly like it.

When I showed her the still image, she went pale.

"My father gave those bracelets to campaign staff three years ago," she said.

"How many?" Thayer asked.

"Dozens."

"Who still has one?"

"Anyone who worked on his reelection team."

That widened the circle.

Senator Cross had been charged with conspiracy, coercion, and unlawful surveillance.

Several former staff members remained free.

Any one of them could blame Thayer, Vivienne, or me for his fall.

Then Julian Sinclair disappeared.

He failed to attend a recovery meeting.

His phone went dark.

His apartment door was unlocked.

On his kitchen table, police found a campaign bracelet.

Thayer became terrifyingly calm.

"My brother did not leave voluntarily."

Vivienne covered her mouth.

"My father knew about Julian's gambling history. His staff used it before."

"Who handled the threats?"

"A man named Malcolm Reed."

The surname caught my attention.

"Related to Gina?"

"Uncle," Vivienne said.

The room fell silent.

Gina had once mentioned an uncle who found jobs for her friends.

Derek had worked for Senator Cross.

The connection had been inside her circle all along.

Police located Malcolm Reed's last registered address.

The house was empty.

A laptop remained in the basement.

Its deleted files contained surveillance photographs of Thayer, Julian, Vivienne, and me.

One folder was labeled WEDDING.

Another was labeled LEVERAGE.

Inside the second folder were copies of Julian's old financial records and photographs of him entering gambling clubs.

Malcolm had been rebuilding the same blackmail network Senator Cross once used.

"He took Julian to force Thayer to withdraw support from the prosecution," I said.

"Or to force me to transfer money," Thayer replied.

His phone rang.

Unknown number.

He answered on speaker.

A distorted voice said, "Your brother is alive."

Thayer's hand tightened around the phone.

"Let me speak to him."

A muffled sound came through the line.

Then Julian's voice.

"Do not give them anything."

The line shifted.

"Withdraw your testimony against Senator Cross. Convince Vivienne to do the same. And cancel the wedding."

"Why the wedding?" I asked.

The voice paused.

"Because happy endings encourage disobedience."

The call ended.

Police began tracing the signal.

It bounced across three towers and disappeared.

Thayer turned to me.

"You are going somewhere secure."

"No."

"Meredith—"

"He wants us separated and frightened. I am staying."

"Julian is my responsibility."

"Then let me help."

"How?"

I looked at the folders on Malcolm's laptop.

Every threat depended on shame.

Every blackmail attempt worked because someone feared exposure.

"We remove his leverage," I said.

That evening, Julian's financial history was released publicly by his own family.

Thayer stood beside him in an old recorded statement Julian had made during treatment.

"I stole from a trust," Julian said in the video. "I repaid it. I entered recovery. I am not proud of what I did, but I will not let anyone use my worst choices to control the people I love."

The video spread within minutes.

Malcolm's leverage vanished.

An hour later, another call came.

This time, the voice was furious.

"You think honesty saves you?"

Thayer answered calmly.

"It saves us from you."

A gunshot cracked through the line.

Then silence.