Chapter 4 The Warning
Calista’s POV
Morning didn’t ask permission.
It simply arrived.
Calista knew she had slept because the sky outside her window had changed from black to pale blue, but the rest of her body opposed the idea that she had rested at all.
Her mind had spent the entire night replaying everything that felt wrong.
Serena’s smile.
The threat message.
Damian’s voice telling her she needed security.
And then the final interruption before dawn.
Did you get home safely?
She rolled to her side and stared at her phone on the bedstand.
The screen was dark.
Quiet.
Uninvolved.
Which was ridiculous considering how much attention it had stolen from her.
Calista reached over and checked it again.
No new messages.
Good.
She exhaled slowly and dragged herself out of bed.
Enough.
Thinking about Damian Westwood this early felt like the start of a bad day.
Work would fix it.
Work always did.
The studio building was unusually quiet when she arrived.
Early.
The hallways still carried that faint overnight stillness that disappeared once producers, assistants and artists flooded the space.
Calista slipped into the studio and dropped her bag beside the console.
The equipment came awake under her touch.
Screens glowed.
Waveforms appeared.
Order returned.
She loaded the same track she had been working on the night before.
The vocals played through the speakers.
Soft.
Uneasy.
Still hiding something.
Calista leaned forward and adjusted the bass again.
Lower.
Heavier.
More confident.
“There it is,” she murmured to herself.
The door behind her opened.
She didn’t turn.
“Studio hours start at nine,” she said automatically. “If you’re an artist you’re early. If you’re management you’re lost.”
Silence.
Then a familiar voice.
“You’re early.”
Calista froze.
Slowly she pulled one headphone off.
Damian Westwood stood in the doorway.
No suit jacket today.
Just a perfectly pressed white shirt and that same posture that made the others feel smaller.
She looked at the clock.
“Technically,” she said, “I’m on time.”
Damian stepped inside.
The door closed quietly behind him.
“Did you sleep?” he asked.
The question was unexpected enough that Calista paused.
“That seems like a very personal question.”
“Answer it.”
“No.”
Damian nodded once.
“That confirms my suspicion.”
She leaned back in her chair.
“And what silly suspicion is that?”
“That the messages unsettled you.”
Calista looked at him closely.
He had said messages not message.
Plural.
She heard him clearly.
“So you know about them,” she said slowly.
Damian kept his eyes on hers.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Security monitors threats directed at this company.”
She chuckled softly.
“That’s a relief.”
“It should be.”
“Well it isn’t.”
They paused for a moment.
Calista turned her chair slightly towards him.
“So if I understand this correctly,” she said calmly. “Someone is threatening me. You knew everything. And you waited until now to say something.”
Damian showed no reaction to the accusation.
“I needed confirmation first.”
“You mean you needed proof I wasn’t hallucinating?”
“I needed proof that it wasn’t harmless.”
Calista leaned forward and took a deep breath.
“Death threats are hardly ever harmless.”
His gaze sharpened slightly.
“You received more after last night.”
It wasn’t a question.
And Calista’s silence confirmed it.
Damian exhaled.
“Show me.”
She crossed her arms.
“Why?”
“You’re not an investigator. Last I checked you were a music mogul.”
“Because whoever is sending them is getting closer.”
Calista studied him.
Something about the certainty in his voice rattled her more than the messages themselves.
“How do you know about that?”
Damian walked closer to the console.
“Because whoever it is,” he said quietly, “knows exactly where you work.”
Her phone beeped in her pocket.
Both of them looked down at the same time.
Calista pulled it out gently.
Unknown Number.
Again.
The studio suddenly felt tighter.
She opened the message.
Unknown:
You really should listen when people warn you and stop objecting.
Calista felt Damian move closer beside her.
Not touching.
Just close enough to read the screen.
Now she could feel him breathing on her neck.
The next message arrived immediately.
Unknown:
Your confidence will be the first thing that gets you bruised.
Calista typed back before she could reconsider.
Calista:
You’re boring. Pick a role. Villain or spectator.
The reply came almost instantly.
Unknown:
You won’t feel this way for long.
That I promise you.
She locked the phone.
The silence in the room deepened.
Damian spoke first.
“You shouldn’t respond.”
Calista looked at him.
“I refuse to be intimidated.”
“That has nothing to do with intimidation.”
“What is it then?”
“A mistake.”
Her brows lifted.
“Mine?”
“Yes.”
Calista gave a small laugh.
“That’s bold coming from someone who made a career on a stack of bad decisions.”
Damian didn’t argue.
Instead he studied her in that quiet way he had yesterday.
“You’re not afraid,” he said.
“Should I be?”
“Yes.”
The honesty of that answer surprised her.
Damian stepped back slightly.
“I’m assigning security to you until we identify the sender.”
Calista’s irritation returned immediately.
“No.”
“That wasn’t a request.”
“I didn’t ask for protection.”
“You didn’t ask for the threats either.”
She stood up.
“I can take care of myself.”
Damian’s voice remained calm.
“I’m fully aware of that.”
“Then why...”
“Because this isn’t about capability.”
He held her gaze.
“It’s about risk.”
Calista went quiet.
Something in the way he said it sounded less like authority and more like something else.
Something she didn’t want to define.
She turned away first.
“Fine,” she muttered.
“For now.”
Damian nodded once.
“That will do.”
He turned toward the door.
Then stopped.
“Calista.”
She looked up.
“Yes?”
His expression shifted slightly.
Not soft.
But not entirely guarded either.
“If the number texts you again,” he said quietly, “call me.”
Her brows lifted.
“You think you’re my emergency contact now?”
“No.”
A brief pause.
“I think ...”
“No. I know you’re in danger.”
The door opened.
Damian exited the room.
Calista stared at the spot where he stood.
Her phone buzzed again.
Another message.
Unknown:
He can’t protect you forever.
Calista’s smile returned.
Sharp.
Calm.
Almost amused.
She typed slowly.
Calista:
Good thing I don’t need him to.
Then she pressed send.
