Chapter 5 The Bait
Calista’s POV
The message sat on the screen way longer than it should have.
Calista stared at the screen in stunned silence.
Because she perfectly understood it.
He can’t protect you forever.
He can’t protect me forever?
What does that even mean?
He was never protecting me until recently.
Her thumbs rubbed together nervously over the phone for a moment before the phone screen slowly faded to black.
Then she placed it face up on the console.
The studio suddenly felt smaller.
Not physically, but tighter.
Like the air around her carried an invisible deadline.
The equipment hummed softly, the familiar mechanical harmony she had spent years soaking in.
Usually the sound comforted her.
Tonight it felt like static crawling under her skin.
Calista leaned back slowly in her chair.
Whoever was sending those messages wasn’t playing around.
They were watching closely.
And that realization dissolved into her bones with unsettling calm.
Not fear.
Not yet.
But sudden awareness.
The kind that amplified every sound in the room.
The kind that made silence loud.
She inhaled slowly.
Then exhaled.
I have to shake this off.
Work.
Work fixed everything.
Her fingers moved back across the console, reopening the track she had been working on earlier. The artist’s voice spilled through the speakers again, quite delicate and uncertain.
She listened carefully.
It was more than the notes.
It had everything to do with the unspoken emotions hidden underneath each of them.
Music always told the truth.
People didn’t.
The bass was still wrong.
Too still.
Too polite.
Calista worked her magic by adjusting the levels, deepening the tone slightly, letting it press against the vocal rather than cradle it.
The change was subtle.
But the song immediately flowed differently.
Stronger.
Honest.
“There you are,” she murmured.
The studio door opened again.
She didn’t turn immediately.
She felt no need to.
There was only one person who entered rooms like the rhythm belonged to him.
“You ignored my advice.”
Damian.
His voice was low.
Measured.
Calculated.
And annoyingly calm.
Calista slid one headphone off her ear with a forced smile before glancing over her shoulder.
“I didn’t ignore it,” she said.
“I deliberated on it.”
Damian leaned against the doorframe.
“You can’t be serious.”
His sleeves were rolled up now and his hands crossed.
White shirt.
No jacket.
No tie.
The look was far less formal than usual.
Which implied that he hadn’t planned to come back.
“Deliberating on it implies you took the warning seriously,” he said.
Her brow tilted slightly.
“Are you sure that was advice?”
His gaze sharpened.
“Yes.”
“Sounded more like a command or should I say an instruction from a tutor.”
“It was.”
Calista smiled faintly.
“You already have your answer.”
“That’s probably why I didn’t follow it.”
Damian stepped inside.
The door closed quietly behind him.
“You responded to the messages?” he said.
She turned her chair slightly to face him.
“How did you know that?”
“Are you the unknown number?”
“Why should I trust you?”
He held her gaze for a moment.
Then gestured toward the phone sitting beside the console.
“Because whoever is texting you sent another message two minutes ago.”
Her stomach sank.
She reached for the phone.
Unlocked it.
There it was.
Unknown Number
A new message.
Calista opened it slowly.
Unknown:
Confidence is dangerous when you don’t understand the game, or the player. Poor girl
Her expression remained neutral.
But Damian noticed the slight shift in her shoulders.
“Let me see it.”
She hesitated.
Then handed him the phone.
He read the message once.
Then again.
His jaw tightened.
The reaction was small.
But Calista noticed.
“They’re getting worse,” he said.
Calista crossed her arms.
“Or they’re bored.”
“Probably a kid is behind this.”
Damian handed the phone back.
“This isn’t someone playing games.”
“A kid?” he repeated.
“Your life might be in danger, wake up.”
“Oh?”
“No.”
She leaned back in her chair again.
“You seem very certain.”
“I am.”
“And why exactly is that?”
Damian walked toward the console.
Stopping beside her chair.
“Because this isn’t the first time someone has tried to threaten someone connected to this company.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“That’s comforting.”
“It shouldn’t be.”
Calista studied him carefully.
“You’re taking this too personally.”
“Don’t you think?”
His expression remained unreadable.
“I’m taking it seriously.”
“Those aren’t the same thing.”
Damian didn’t respond.
Instead he glanced at the screen displaying the track she’d been adjusting.
“You fixed the bass of this song?”
Calista turned slightly.
“It was still wrong.”
He nodded once.
Then his attention returned to her.
“You’re staying late again.”
“Yes.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Well...I work here.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
She tilted her head.
“Then what did you mean?”
Damian didn’t answer immediately.
For a moment he simply looked at her.
Like he was scanning her skeleton.
“You attract attention,” he said finally.
Calista blinked.
“Where is this coming from?”
“That’s a strange accusation.”
“It’s an observation.”
She laughed softly.
“I’m a sound engineer, Damian.”
“You’re way more than that.”
The words gushed out before he could stop them.
Silence followed.
Very dense.
Uncomfortable.
Calista raised an eyebrow.
“That sounded like a dangerous compliment.”
“Thank you, I guess.”
He straightened slightly.
Readjusting his sleeves.
“Don’t get used to it.”
“Too late.”
The tension in the room faded.
Neither of them moved for a moment.
Then Calista’s phone buzzed again.
Both of them looked down at the same time.
Another message.
She opened it slowly.
Unknown:
He looks at you like you belong to him.
Calista frowned.
Then another message appeared immediately.
Unknown:
You should correct that before someone gets hurt.
Her pulse slowed.
That was new.
She typed back fast before Damian could think of stopping her.
Calista:
You seem very invested in my personal life.
The reply came almost instantly.
Unknown:
If someone has to be. It definitely has to be me.
Damian took the phone gently from her hand.
“Are you done responding.”
She reached for it.
“I’m not your business.”
“I can handle this.”
“I’m sure you can.”
“Then why..”
“Because whoever this is, is doing this to spark a reaction.”
Calista folded her arms.
“And I gave them a show.”
“Exactly.”
She exhaled slowly.
“You’re assuming this is about me.”
Damian looked at her.
“It clearly is.”
“How do you know?”
His expression hardened slightly.
“Because threats like this don’t appear out of a movie, the driving force is a motive.”
“And what motive would someone have to threaten a music producer?”
“You.”
She stared at him.
“That’s vague.”
“It’s accurate and logical.”
Calista leaned forward on the console.
“You’re being dramatic.”
“No.”
“I’m being realistic.”
Another pause settled between them.
Then Damian reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
He typed something quickly.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Making sure you get home safely.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Since when?”
“You already tried that.”
“And you ignored it.”
“I declined it.”
“There’s a difference.”
“Not from where I’m standing.”
She pushed her chair back slightly.
“I don’t need any security.”
Damian looked up from his phone.
“Yes.”
“You do.”
“No.”
“I don’t.”
“Yes.”
“You do.”
She stood up.
“Damian.”
“Calista.”
Their eyes locked.
Neither of them looked away.
“I’ve been taking care of myself for years,” she said quietly.
“I know.”
“Then stop treating me like I can’t.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Then what are you doing?”
Damian hesitated.
Just for a moment.
His lips ran faster than his brain.
“Protecting my investment.”
She blinked.
For a split second she thought her ears failed her.
“Oh!”
“That’s what this is about.”
“So this is about the company. And my usefulness.”
She laughed.
“That might be the least romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“It wasn’t meant to be romantic.”
“That’s good.”
“Because it wasn’t.”
She shook her head.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“And yet you still work here.”
“Barely.”
Another message buzzed on the phone.
Damian glanced at the screen again.
Then his expression changed.
Not drastically.
Just enough for Calista to notice.
“What is it?” she asked.
He showed her the phone.
Unknown:
Security won’t save her.
The room went silent.
Calista stared at the message.
Then slowly looked up at him.
“That sounded personal.”
“It is.”
“You recognize the number?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Damian slipped the phone back into his pocket.
Then he said something that made the air in the room shift again.
“They’re not threatening you.”
Calista frowned.
“What are you even saying.”
“Then who?”
He held her gaze.
“They’re threatening me.”
Her chest tightened.
“What?”
“Whoever this is doesn’t care about you.”
“Wow.”
“That came out wrong.”
“You think?”
“They care about what you mean to me.”
“You’re assuming a lot.”
“No.”
“I’m not.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve seen this before.”
“You’re not explaining anything.”
“I know.”
“Then start.”
Damian looked toward the studio door.
Then back at her.
“Not here.”
“You’re being cryptic again.”
“I’m being cautious.”
Another pause stretched between them.
Then Damian walked toward the door.
He stopped before leaving.
“Calista.”
She looked up.
“Yes?”
“If that number messages you again tonight…”
He hesitated.
“…don’t respond.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“And if I do?”
“Or let’s say I want to.”
His expression darkened slightly.
“Then you’re making it easier for them.”
“For who?”
“What’s getting easier?”
Damian opened the door.
Then looked back at her one last time.
“For the person who wants you gone.”
And then he left.
The studio felt different after he was gone.
Quieter.
Heavier.
Calista glanced absentmindedly toward the studio window.
Across the street, a black car was parked under the dim, flickering streetlight.
The engine was off.
But someone was inside.
She frowned slightly.
Then shook it off.
Probably just another late-night driver.
Calista sat down slowly.
Her phone buzzed again.
She didn’t rush to open it this time.
She waited.
Counted to three.
Then unlocked the screen.
Unknown:
He finally told you the truth.
Her expression turned puzzled.
Another message appeared.
Unknown:
You’re not the target.
She turned pale instantly.
And then the final message arrived.
Unknown:
You’re just the bait.
Calista stared at the screen.
For the first time since the messages started…
Something like fear stirred inside her.
And somewhere across the city…
Someone was watching.
The black car’s engine finally started.
