My sister slapped me in the middle of LAX and my dad demanded I apologize—so I canceled all $14,000 worth of Hawaii reservations I had paid for.

I froze in the middle of the marble foyer.

The knocking wasn't the polite, measured tap of hotel room service or the concierge.

It was heavy. Rhythmic. Violent. The sound of a fist slamming against solid mahogany.

*BANG. BANG. BANG.*

My heart surged into my throat. The Kahala was one of the most exclusive, secure resorts on Oahu. The Presidential wing required a private keycard just to access the elevator bank on the eighth floor. Nobody should have been able to get up here.

I walked quietly toward the door, my bare feet making no sound on the floor.

I leaned in and looked through the brass peephole.

The hallway outside was empty.

I frowned, my breath catching in my chest. Had I imagined it? Was it someone knocking on a neighboring suite down the hall?

Then, my phone buzzed on the entryway console.

A text message from an unknown California number.

I picked it up.

**Unknown:** *Did you really think changing islands would save you, Rose?*

A cold, icy dread flooded my veins.

Before I could process the message, a second text arrived from the same number—an image file.

I clicked it open.

It was a photograph taken from inside my own suite.

The photograph showed the glass coffee table in my living room, my open laptop displaying the financial spreadsheet, and the bottle of Dom Pérignon on the counter. The photo had been taken from inside the suite’s open balcony doors while I was downstairs having drinks with Kyle.

Someone had been inside my room.

*BANG. BANG. BANG.*

The pounding returned, but this time, it wasn't coming from the heavy front door.

It was coming from the sliding glass doors out on the private balcony.

I slowly turned around.

The sheer white curtains were billowing gently in the ocean breeze, masking the dark terrace outside. But through the translucent fabric, backlit by the pale moonlight, the silhouette of a tall figure was standing perfectly still against the glass.