CHAPTER 16: NEW LIFE, OLD SHADOWS

Coastal Haven, Maine — Present Day

The salt-tinged air of Harbor’s Edge stung Stephanie’s cheeks as she trudged up the gravel path to the Seashell Inn, her new workplace. The small coastal town was a far cry from Leon’s glass-and-steel empire in New York—here, the ocean roared louder than paparazzi, and the only flashing lights came from the lighthouse piercing the fog. She adjusted the scratchy wool scarf over her hair, a makeshift disguise, though no one in this sleepy town would recognize “Clara Evans,” the name Jake had forged for her.

“Morning, Clara!” Mia Callahan, the inn’s heavily pregnant owner, waved from the porch, her auburn curls bouncing. “Brought you a blueberry muffin. Fresh from the oven.”

Stephanie forced a smile. Mia’s kindness was a lifeline, but it also felt like a betrayal. *She doesn’t know I’m lying to her. That I’m not Clara.* “Thanks, Mia. You didn’t have to—”

“Nonsense. You’re eating for two now.” Mia patted Stephanie’s barely visible bump, her green eyes crinkling. “Besides, you’ve been a godsend. Never had a receptionist who actually *smiles* at the grumpy fishermen.”

Stephanie’s throat tightened. *If only she knew I’ve had years of practice faking smiles for a man who never saw me.*

---

**Manhattan, New York — Leon’s Penthouse**

Leon Phoenix stared at the security footage frozen on his laptop screen—Stephanie’s empty bedroom, the bed neatly made, her lavender perfume still lingering in the air. His fist clenched around the tumbler of whiskey, the ice long melted.

“She’s *gone*,” he growled into the phone. “And your team’s best theory is that she… *what*? Sprouted wings and flew to Narnia?”

“Sir, we’ve traced Mr. Hartley’s jet to Maine,” the investigator replied tersely. “But the trail goes cold after that. He’s covering his tracks well.”

*Jake.* Leon’s jaw twitched. His former business partner—his *friend*—had stabbed him in the back. *For her.* The realization burned worse than the whiskey.

The elevator dinged. Adriana sauntered in, her black silk dress clinging to her curves like a second skin. “Still moping over that little mouse?” She plucked the glass from his hand and took a sip, wrinkling her nose. “Ugh. Cheap bourbon. You’ve really fallen apart without her, haven’t you?”

Leon snatched the glass back. “Get out.”

“Oh, please.” She trailed a manicured finger down his chest. “You’re not angry at *me*. You’re angry at yourself for being stupid enough to think a secretary could replace me.”

He gripped her wrist, hard. “You’re the reason she left.”

Adriana laughed, low and throaty. “No, darling. *You* are. You used her, humiliated her… and now she’s gone. Poof!” She blew a mocking kiss into the air. “Face it—she never loved you. She just wanted your money.”

Something snapped in Leon’s chest. He shoved her away. “Get. Out.”

“Gladly.” Adriana smoothed her dress, her smile sharp as a blade. “But when you’re done sulking, remember—*I’m* the only one who’ll always come back.”

The elevator doors closed behind her. Leon hurled the glass at the wall, shattering it.

---

**Harbor’s Edge, Maine — Seashell Inn**

Stephanie slumped into the inn’s creaky desk chair, her hand instinctively cradling her stomach. *Four months along.* She’d read that the baby could hear her voice now.

“Hey there,” she whispered, tears pricking her eyes. “I’m sorry today’s… rough. But I promise, no matter what, you’ll never feel unloved. Not like I did.”

The bell above the door jingled. Stephanie hastily wiped her eyes.

“Clara?” Mia hovered in the doorway, holding a small velvet box. “I, uh… made something for the baby.”

Inside was a delicate silver necklace—a seashell pendant etched with *”Protected by the tide.”*

“It’s a local legend,” Mia said softly. “They say the ocean claims what it loves… and destroys what threatens it.” She fastened the necklace around Stephanie’s throat. “Consider it a charm. For both of you.”

Stephanie’s composure cracked. “Mia, I… I need to tell you something.”

*Ding-dong!*

Jake stood in the doorway, his leather jacket dusted with snowflakes. His gaze flicked to Mia. “Mind if I borrow Clara? Business call.”

Mia raised a brow but nodded. “Don’t keep her long. She needs rest.”

---

**The Boathouse — Midnight**

Jake paced the drafty boathouse, the single bulb swinging overhead. “Leon’s hired a new investigator. Some ex-FBI guy. They’re getting close, Steph.”

Stephanie hugged herself. “I can’t run again. Not now.” She gestured to her bump. “I’m tired, Jake. *So tired.*”

He gripped her shoulders. “You think I don’t know that? But if he finds you—”

“He won’t.” Her voice wavered. “He doesn’t care. He’s probably with Adriana right now.”

Jake’s eyes darkened. “You’re wrong. He’s tearing the world apart looking for you. And Adriana’s…” He hesitated. “She’s not just sitting idle. Rumor is she’s hired her own men.”

A chill skittered down Stephanie’s spine. “Why?”

“Because you’re carrying Leon’s heir. That baby is a threat to her.” Jake pulled a burner phone from his pocket. “I’ve bought you time. I deleted the security footage from the inn’s cameras today. But we need to—”

*BANG!*

The boathouse door flew open. Mia stood there, her face pale. “Clara? The inn—there’s a man asking for you. He… he has a gun.”

---

**Flashback — Three Years Earlier**

*“Mr. Phoenix, your 2 p.m. is here.”*

Leon didn’t look up from his contracts. “Send them in.”

Stephanie hesitated. “It’s, um… Adriana. She says it’s urgent.”

His pen froze. “Tell her I’m busy.”

“She’s crying, sir. She says she’s sorry—”

“I said *no*.” His voice cracked like a whip.

Stephanie flinched but stood her ground. “With all due respect, sir… running back to someone who hurt you isn’t strength. It’s fear.”

Leon finally looked at her—*really* looked. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes blazing with a courage he’d never noticed before.

“You’re fired,” he said flatly.

She lifted her chin. “No, I’m not. Because you know I’m right.”

For the first time in months, Leon Phoenix almost smiled.

---

**Harbor’s Edge, Maine — Present Day**

Stephanie’s pulse roared in her ears as she followed Mia back to the inn. *Leon found me. Or worse—Adriana.*

The lobby was empty.

“He’s in the dining room,” Mia whispered.

Stephanie’s hand trembled as she pushed open the door.

A man stood at the window, his back to her—tall, broad-shouldered, with short chocolate-brown hair.

Leon.

Her knees buckled. She grabbed the doorframe.

He turned slowly, and her breath hitched.

*Not Leon.*

The stranger had Leon’s build, Leon’s sharp jawline… but cold, empty eyes. He held up a badge. “Clara Evans? I’m Detective Cole. We need to talk about Jake Hartley.”

“Wh-what about him?”

The detective stepped closer. “His car was found abandoned near the Canadian border. Blood on the seats. And your name was written on the dashboard.” He paused. “In *his* blood.”

The room spun. Stephanie gripped her necklace. *Protected by the tide.*

“Ms. Evans,” the detective said softly, “someone’s trying very hard to silence Jake. And if they know about you…”

Outside, tires screeched. Mia screamed.

Through the window, Stephanie saw them—two black SUVs skidding to a halt outside the inn. Men in masks poured out, guns drawn.

The detective shoved her toward the back door. “*Run!*”

---

Stephanie stumbled into the snowy alley, her pulse thundering. The men’s shouts echoed behind her. *“Find the pregnant one! She’s worth double living!”*

She fumbled for her phone, dialing Jake’s number with numb fingers. It rang once, twice—

A gun cocked behind her.

“Hello, Stephanie,” purred a familiar voice. Adriana stepped into the moonlight, a pistol aimed at her stomach. “Let’s talk about that baby.”