Chapter 107

Cecilia’s pov

Harper froze in place, her tirade dying on her lips.

In an instant, her demeanor shifted from righteous fury to wide-eyed alarm. She whirled around and grabbed my arms with surprising strength.

“Who—who is it?” she whispered, her voice suddenly small.

My heart pounded painfully against my ribs.

I glanced at the clock on Harper’s wall.

Midnight. Exactly.

“Ding-dong p>

The doorbell rang again, the innocent chime somehow transformed into something straight out of a horror movie.

We instinctively backed away from the door, putting as much distance between ourselves and whoever—or whatever—was on the other side.

The self-proclaimed fearless lawyer who moments ago had been ready to take on the world now looked as terrified as I felt. Her face had drained of all color.

“Level with me,” Harper said, attempting to sound calm despite her trembling voice. “Did you secretly order takeout because you were still hungry p>

I didn’t bother responding. We both knew she was just trying to fill the suffocating silence with something—anything—other than our fears.

I pulled her back to the couch. “Let’s just pretend we didn’t hear anything. Don’t answer it p>

Harper nodded stiffly. “Yeah p>

The moment she agreed, her gaze shifted past me and her eyes widened in horror.

I followed her line of sight to the balcony—where the glass door stood wide open, midnight breeze causing the sheer curtains to dance like ghostly figures in the darkness.

The glass door was OPEN.

Harper’s face contorted in panic.

I stared at the open door, my breath catching. “You must have left it open when you rushed out this morning! You’re always running late and forgetting to close the balcony door p>

“I closed it! I closed it! I CLOSED IT! I remember closing it!” Harper’s voice rose with each repetition, bordering on hysteria.

“Calm down,” I hissed, trying to sound reasonable despite my racing heart. “You’re on the 31st floor! There’s no adjacent balcony or ledge anyone could climb across from! It’s the 31st floor, for God’s sake—what are we dealing with, Spider-Man p>

Harper fell silent for two seconds, processing my logic. “But I remember closing it,” she insisted, her voice dropping to a frightened whisper. “You can doubt my fashion choices, but not my memory p>

I went quiet too.

So what she was implying was that there was a ghost at the door, and another one already inside the apartment? Did that mean we were surrounded?

“We need to call the police!” I blurted out.

“I’ll do it!” Harper grabbed her phone with shaking hands.

In that moment, only the police could provide any semblance of safety or sanity.

The instant Harper dialed, the apartment lights went out with a decisive click, plunging us into darkness.

Simultaneously, the doorbell rang twice in quick succession.

I used my phone’s flashlight to scan the room, my heart practically in my throat.

“Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong p>

“Knock-knock-knock p>

The doorbell chimes became relentless, now accompanied by persistent knocking.

As soon as her call connected, Harper frantically explained what was happening to the emergency dispatcher.

The officer on the line instructed us to stay put and under no circumstances open the door. Help was on the way.

After hanging up, we huddled together on the carpet, back-to-back, our phone flashlights pointed outward as we scanned for any sign of movement. The harsh light reflected off our faces, highlighting expressions that would have been perfectly at home in a horror film—wide eyes, bloodless lips, terror etched into every line.

“Is anyone there p>

About five minutes later, alongside the knocking, we heard what sounded like voices.

Had the police arrived already?

Impossible!

Neither of us dared to respond.

Then came the unmistakable sound of someone working at the lock.

The door simply… opened.

We scrambled to our feet, shock giving way to pure survival instinct as we bolted toward the nearest bathroom.

“You two p>

The intruder barely got two words out before our screams drowned them out completely.

Inside the bathroom, Harper and I gasped for breath, backs pressed against the door.

Outside, everything had gone quiet.

Suddenly, Harper clutched at my arm, her fingers digging painfully into my skin as she pointed to another door just a few feet away.

The bathroom had a second door connecting to the exterior balcony, and it was slowly, silently opening. Beyond it, nothing but darkness.

We were both proud rationalists who didn’t believe in the supernatural.

But in that moment? A cold, primal fear swept through me like an icy wind.

My mind conjured irrational thoughts—was it possible we’d somehow summoned something by discussing murder and revenge so late at night?

As if responding to my thoughts, a face slowly emerged from the darkness.

A handsome male face suddenly appeared inches from our own.

We nearly went into cardiac arrest.

“Ladies, please don’t run—it’s just me,” Tang whispered, clearly trying to avoid startling us further.

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to beat him to death with my bare hands. Judging by Harper’s expression, she felt exactly the same.

“Do you have ANY idea what time it is?” I snapped, my fear rapidly transforming into rage. “You could literally scare someone to death pulling stunts like this p>

“Alpha Sebastian ordered me to protect you… both,” Tang explained, adding the plural with a quick glance at Harper.

Shortly afterward, the police arrived.

Harper explained that the person at the door was just a friend, and the power outage was merely a coincidental circuit breaker trip.

To reassure us, the officers thoroughly searched the apartment, confirming no one else was hiding inside before they departed.

That night, Tang slept on the couch while Harper and I shared her bedroom.

Neither of us could sleep.

“Maybe you should just let Alpha Sebastian handle the Shadow Pack,” Harper suggested, her voice hollow with resignation. “I’m genuinely afraid we might end up as corpses before we can gather enough evidence p>

I rolled onto my side, staring at Harper.

“Even if he agrees to help—which I doubt—what happens when he asks for something in return? Something I don’t want to give. Do I just say yes? That’s not help. That’s a trade p>

I shook my head.

“Even if he doesn’t ask for anything right away, I’d still feel like I owe him. Like I’d have to say yes to whatever he wants later. That’s still a deal. Just delayed p>

Harper snorted. “You’re talking like sex is a business contract p>

I didn’t laugh.

“It kind of is. If I use my body to get something I need, that’s not love. That’s a payment p>

I sat up, my voice sharper.

“I don’t want that with him. I don’t want to owe him anything p>

Harper raised an eyebrow. “So we let them win for now p>

“Sure,” I said. “Let them celebrate. It won’t last. Once we get proof, we’re bringing everything down—including that fake statement they forced me to sign p>

Harper nodded. “Murder’s murder. If we have real evidence and the public finds out, not even their families can hide it p>

I didn’t respond. I closed my eyes. I’d already made up my mind.

Early the next morning, with Harper by my side, I went to the police station to sign the statement dropping charges against Cici.

Xavier arrived just as we were leaving.

We met at the entrance.

“Cecilia, I’m so glad you decided to sign. I know you’re extremely angry, but you can ask anything of me—I’ll compensate you however you want!” Xavier looked at me with careful, pleading eyes filled with performative pain.

“Xavier, your shamelessness truly exceeds all natural limits! You’re absolutely revolting!” Harper looked ready to stone him where he stood.

I didn’t even glance in his direction, treating him as if he were nothing but empty air as I walked straight past him.

Xavier, undeterred, hurried after me.

In the distance, a car slowly drove toward us.