The Billionaire’s Fight For Redemption (Noah and Sierra) novel Chapter 268

It’s two p.m. when I step into the parking lot, my handbag clutched tightly to my chest.

The unmistakable sensation of being watched coils around me. It feels like unseen eyes are tracking my every move.

I slow without meaning to, my senses flaring as awareness crawls up my spine. I stop and turn but there’s nothing. There is no one. Just neat rows of parked cars and the hum of traffic somewhere beyond the lot.

I shake it off and keep walking but the feeling doesn’t fade. If anything, it sharpens, prickling me, until it feels like insects are crawling beneath my skin.

My shoulders tense and my grip tightens around my keys as I scan the lot again... Still I find nothing. It's just me.

By the time I reach my car, my heart is pounding so loudly I can hear it in my ears. I unlock the door and slide inside, locking it immediately behind me.

I sit there for a moment, breathing, forcing myself to calm down.

Maybe it’s because of what just happened. Maybe it’s because of my encounter with Jocelyn that I feel so rattled.

That has to be it. I cling to the thought because it’s the only explanation that makes sense.

I ignore the voice in my head, Noah’s words on the day I left his house. There can’t be anyone else after me. Brook and Jocelyn are the only ones who might hate me enough for that.

Apart from the two, I don’t have enemies, so his logic doesn’t make sense.

I shove the thought to the back of my mind, start the engine, and pull out of the lot, forcing myself not to check the rearview mirror.

By the time I get home, exhaustion weighs on every part of me.

My back aches. My feet throb. Even my thoughts feel heavy. Like I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders.

I drop my bag by the door and head straight for my room. After the day I’ve had, all I need is a good sleep.

Everything always looks and feels better after a good nap.

***

The doorbell jolts me awake.

“Why are you here?” I ask again, sharper this time.

He opens his mouth but closes it almost immediately.

I almost laugh because this is a first. He actually doesn’t know what to say and It’s so painfully obvious; he doesn’t even understand why he is here.

“If you don’t have anything to say,” I continue, my voice tight, “you can leave. I’ve had a long day, and I’m not in the mood for whatever bullshit you brought with you.”

That seems to jolt him.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.

I let out a humorless laugh. “Just say whatever you came to say and leave.”

“Are you okay?” he repeats. “Do you need anything?”

My eyes narrow as irritation spikes. “Since when do you care about what I need? Or whether I’m okay or not?”