Elena tried to pretend.
She woke up the next morning, fed Whiskers, brushed her teeth, tied her hair back. She brewed her coffee too strong and burned her tongue on the first sip. All the little rituals that usually kept her life stitched together.
But nothing felt stitched anymore. Everything felt frayed, like the world was unraveling thread by thread—and Adrian Blackthorn was the one tugging.
Her reflection in the bathroom mirror startled her. Pale skin. Tired eyes. A constant look of someone waiting for the next shadow to move. She hated it. She hated him.
She hated that part of her still felt the phantom warmth of his hand brushing her cheek.
---
The day dragged by in the café. No strange men at the window. No gray eyes watching from the corner. Just customers and chatter and the steady hum of machines. It should have felt normal.
But Adrian had become like gravity. Even when he wasn't there, she felt his pull.
By closing time, she was exhausted. She locked up, walked home, and double-checked every bolt on her apartment door. Whiskers meowed for food, blissfully unaware that her world was cracking apart.
Elena sank onto the couch with a sigh. Maybe tonight she'd finally get some sleep.
Then the knock came.
Her head snapped up.
Three slow, deliberate knocks.
Elena's chest tightened. Nobody knocked at this hour. Nobody she wanted to see.
She stayed frozen, praying whoever it was would go away. But the silence stretched, then came the voice—smooth, commanding, impossible to mistake.
"Elena."
Her blood ran cold.
She stood on trembling legs, crossing the living room with steps that felt too loud. Her hand hovered over the lock. "Go away."
"Open the door." Calm. Certain. As if refusal was not an option.
"No."
A low chuckle slid through the wood. "You say no like it matters."
Her throat tightened. "Leave me alone."
Another pause. Then—"If I wanted to force my way in, little dove, you wouldn't have a door left to hide behind. But I'm giving you a choice."
Elena's pulse raced. It wasn't really a choice, not with the weight of his voice pressing through the cracks. She should scream. Call the police. Do anything but what she was about to do.
And still, with shaking fingers, she unlocked the door.
Adrian stood there, framed in the dim hallway light like the devil at confession. His suit was immaculate, his gray eyes gleaming with quiet triumph.
"You let me in," he said softly.
"I didn't—"
But her protest broke when he stepped past her threshold, his presence filling the small apartment until it felt too tight, too hot. Whiskers hissed from the corner and darted under the couch.
Adrian glanced around as if cataloging every detail of her life—the books stacked on the table, the chipped mug on the counter, the blanket crumpled on the couch. He didn't belong here, and yet he moved like he owned the space.
Elena swallowed hard. "Why are you here?"
He turned back to her, his expression unreadable. "Because you keep pretending you can ignore me."
Her hands clenched at her sides. "I don't want you here."
"But I am here." His voice softened, dangerous in its calm. "And you'll start to realize it's safer that way."
"Safer?" she snapped, anger breaking through fear. "You terrify me."
Something flickered in his eyes—not guilt, not regret, but something sharper. He stepped closer, until the heat of him brushed against her skin.
"Good," he murmured. "Fear keeps you alive. And as long as you're alive, you're mine to protect."
Her breath caught. "I'm not yours."
Adrian's gaze lingered on her face, steady and relentless. "You will be."
The words landed like a seal, an oath she couldn't erase.
He reached for the black card still sitting on her counter, running his thumb over the silver lettering. Then he placed it back down with deliberate care, as if reminding her: this is who I am, and you can't change it.
When he finally moved toward the door, Elena's knees nearly gave out from the sudden release of his presence.
He paused on the threshold, glancing back with that faint, devastating smirk. "Lock the door behind me. Not that it will keep me out."
And then he was gone.
Elena sank to the floor, her chest heaving.
Her apartment was supposed to be her safe place. But now even here, Adrian Blackthorn's shadow lingered.
He wasn't just at her door anymore.
He was inside.