Chapter 2: My Husband Had Secretly Arranged My Meeting With Ryan
Chapter 2: My Husband Had Secretly Arranged My Meeting With Ryan
I stared at the screen.
Daniel’s name was at the top of the conversation.
For several seconds, I couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing.
Then I read the last message again.
She’s downstairs. Don’t approach her until she talks to you first.
My fingers went cold.
I looked at Ryan.
“What is this?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he locked his phone and slipped it back into his pocket.
“Let’s go somewhere private.”
I stepped away from him.
“No.”
“Claire—”
“No. You’re going to explain this right here.”
Ryan looked toward the security camera.
“Not in the hallway.”
“Why?”
“Because your husband isn’t the only person watching.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
He pointed toward the ceiling.
“There’s a camera above us.”
“So?”
“So someone has been monitoring this floor all night.”
I looked at the camera.
It suddenly felt like it was staring directly at me.
“Who?”
Ryan shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“Then tell me why my husband is texting you.”
He sighed.
“Because Daniel hired me.”
My heart dropped.
“For what?”
“To meet you.”
I laughed nervously.
“This is insane.”
“I know how it sounds.”
“Then explain it.”
Ryan looked at me carefully.
“Your husband knew you wouldn’t talk to me if he introduced us.”
“Why would he want me to talk to you?”
“Because he wanted you to hear something from someone who wasn’t him.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“What?”
Ryan hesitated.
“That he thinks you’re in danger.”
I almost laughed.
“From who?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s convenient.”
“Claire, listen.”
He stepped closer.
“Three weeks ago, Daniel contacted me.”
“Why you?”
“Because I used to work in corporate security.”
I frowned.
“You’re security?”
“Formerly.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“He asked me to investigate someone.”
“Who?”
“You.”
I stopped breathing.
“My husband hired you to investigate me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he believed someone had been using your identity.”
I stared at him.
“That makes no sense.”
“It didn’t to me either.”
“What did you find?”
Ryan looked away.
“That’s where things get complicated.”
“Tell me.”
He took out his phone again.
This time, he showed me several photographs.
The first showed me leaving my office.
The second showed me entering a restaurant.
The third showed me getting into my car.
The fourth showed me standing outside our house.
All taken from a distance.
All without my knowledge.
I felt sick.
“Who took these?”
“That’s what I was trying to find out.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Ryan looked directly at me.
“A woman.”
“Who?”
“She looks almost exactly like you.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Same height. Same hair. Similar clothes.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I thought so too.”
He swiped to another photograph.
This one showed the woman from behind.
She was standing outside our apartment building.
My apartment building.
I recognized the blue jacket.
I had one exactly like it.
“When was this taken?”
“Two months ago.”
“I was out of town then.”
“I know.”
I looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“Because I was following her.”
My pulse quickened.
“Where did she go?”
Ryan swiped again.
The next photograph showed the woman entering a parking garage.
Then another.
She was standing beside Daniel.
I couldn’t breathe.
“What is that?”
“That’s your husband.”
“I can see that.”
“Look closer.”
I did.
Daniel wasn’t looking at the woman.
He was looking around.
As if he was afraid someone was watching them.
Then I noticed something.
The woman was wearing a ring.
My ring.
The wedding ring Daniel had given me six years ago.
I looked at my own hand.
My ring was still there.
Ryan watched my expression.
“That’s when Daniel contacted me.”
“What did he say?”
“He said someone had stolen a copy of your identity documents.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“He said he was afraid you wouldn’t believe him.”
I shook my head.
“That doesn’t explain the pool.”
“No.”
“What was the plan?”
Ryan looked uncomfortable.
“He wanted me to see how you reacted when you met me.”
“Why?”
“To determine whether you knew me.”
“I don’t know you.”
“I know.”
“Then why did he think I might?”
“Because the woman we’ve been tracking has been using your name.”
I stared at him.
“And you thought I was her?”
“For a few minutes.”
My heart sank.
“What made you change your mind?”
Ryan’s expression became serious.
“Your reaction when you saw Daniel’s name.”
“What about it?”
“The other woman never reacted like that.”
“Because she’s not me.”
“Exactly.”
The elevator behind us suddenly opened.
We both turned.
Nobody stepped out.
The doors closed again.
Ryan lowered his voice.
“We shouldn’t stay here.”
“Why?”
“Because I just got another message.”
He showed me his phone.
Another message from Daniel.
Get her out of the hotel. Now.
My hands began shaking.
I called Daniel.
Straight to voicemail.
Again.
Nothing.
“Something happened to him.”
Ryan shook his head.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Or he’s trying to make you leave.”
“Why?”
Ryan looked at me.
“Because whoever is watching this hotel knows you’re here.”
I stared at him.
“How?”
He pointed toward the elevator.
“Your room key.”
“What about it?”
“Your husband checked you into a different room than the one on your reservation.”
I frowned.
“That isn’t possible.”
“It is.”
He showed me another photograph.
A hotel registration screen.
My name.
But the room number was different.
I looked at him.
“Where was I supposed to stay?”
“Room 814.”
I swallowed.
“And where am I staying?”
“Room 1216.”
My room.
My husband had changed it.
“Why?”
Ryan shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from Daniel.
For the first time that night, it wasn’t a text.
It was a photograph.
I opened it.
My blood froze.
It was a picture of me and Ryan sitting beside the pool.
Taken from above.
The timestamp was from forty minutes earlier.
Underneath it, Daniel had written:
Don’t trust the man beside you.
I looked at Ryan.
He had seen the photograph.
His face changed.
“That isn’t possible.”
“What?”
“The camera angle.”
“What about it?”
“That photograph wasn’t taken from the hotel.”
I stared at him.
“Then where?”
Ryan zoomed in.
Behind us was the pool.
The glass windows.
The bar.
But reflected in the window was something else.
A person standing in a room above us.
Watching.
I looked up.
The lights of the hotel tower stretched into the darkness.
Ryan whispered:
“Someone was in the room directly above the pool.”
“Which room?”
He zoomed in again.
His expression turned pale.
“1216.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“That’s my room.”
Ryan looked at me.
“No.”
He pointed toward the photograph.
“That’s not the scary part.”
“What is?”
He enlarged the reflection.
A woman was standing behind the glass.
She was holding something against the window.
A photograph.
I couldn’t see it clearly.
Ryan zoomed in one final time.
Then both of us froze.
It was a photograph of my wedding.
But there was something wrong with it.
There were three people standing beside me at the altar.
Daniel.
Me.
And another woman who looked exactly like me.
Ryan slowly lowered the phone.
“Claire…”
I couldn’t speak.
He looked toward the elevator.
Then he whispered:
“Your husband didn’t bring you to Miami for a business trip.”
I looked at him.
“He brought you here because he knew she’d be waiting.”
The elevator doors opened again.
This time, a woman stepped out.
She had my face.
My hair.
My eyes.
And she was wearing my wedding ring.
She looked directly at me.
Then smiled.
“Finally,” she said.
“I’ve been waiting six years to meet you.”
