He kissed me once and disappeared. Now he wants to protect me—but who will protect me from him?

Janica’s world came crashing down when she lost her mother to cancer, leaving her with nothing but a low-paying job and mounting bills. No family, no support—just a hollow existence. She’s long since given up on love, convinced it’s a luxury she can’t afford.

Then, Jason stepped into her life. Dark, powerful, and dangerously charming, he offered her comfort when she needed it most. He kissed her, promised he wouldn’t leave, and then disappeared without a trace—leaving her heartbroken and alone, with only a memory of a man who had once been her anchor.

Now, Jason’s back—and he’s determined to make things right. But his return isn’t just about rekindling their love. He’s a man marked by secrets, betrayal, and enemies that would stop at nothing to tear them apart. Jason will do whatever it takes to protect Janica, even if it means putting himself in harm’s way. But as the shadows of his past close in, Janica starts to wonder: can she trust him again, or is his love just another dangerous game?

Betrayed once, can she ever truly heal from the wounds he left behind? Or will their love break her completely? As danger surrounds them and the line between protector and prisoner blurs, Janica is forced to confront her deepest fears—and the truth about the man she thought she knew.

I stared at the journal, my own name scrawled in a corner of the page—so innocent, so trusting. A child who had no idea she'd live with this weight.


I could still feel his presence lingering, like smoke clinging to fabric long after the fire's gone. I didn't remember his name—God, why couldn't I remember his name?—but I remembered the way he looked at my mother. The hatred in his eyes. The finality.


What if everything—every shattered memory, every sleepless night—wasn't just trauma, but warning?


I pressed my palms to my face, forcing air into my lungs. My fingers were cold, damp with sweat. A sick feeling coiled deep in my belly. The room was silent, but it felt too quiet, like the air had stopped moving, like the house itself was holding its breath with me.


Could it be that he had always been close? That he had watched, waited? Had he ever truly been gone—or had he just melted into the background, hidden in plain sight?


The thought gripped me, sank its claws into the fragile edge of my sanity.


Why the memory of him burned so deeply when everything else was lost in fog.


I turned the journal pages slowly, hoping for more—more entries, more clues, anything to help me piece it all together. But the pages stared back at me, empty, their silence heavier than words. My breath hitched as I traced the ink of my younger self, wondering what else she had seen, what else she had buried to survive.


Because if that man was still out there—and something in my gut told me he was—then remembering wouldn't be enough.


But for her. For the mother who had shielded me with trembling hands, who had told me to hide even as her own voice broke with fear.


A surge of resolve sparked in my chest, tiny but fierce. I wouldn't run from the shadows anymore.


Chapter 33 - The Memory That Hid Me