Elena woke with a plan.
It wasn't much of a plan, but it was something. She couldn't keep living like this—jumping at shadows, waiting for his voice to curl around her in the dark. She wasn't helpless. She refused to be.
First step: cut every thread he could pull.
She changed her number that morning. She deleted the unknown calls, blocked what she could, switched her SIM card. At work, she told her manager she needed fewer late shifts. In her head, she rehearsed the conversations she would have if he showed up again—sharp words, unflinching tone, absolute finality.
She almost believed herself.
But as the day dragged on, doubt crept in. Adrian Blackthorn wasn't a man you erased with a new number or stricter boundaries. He wasn't just a shadow. He was a force. And forces didn't disappear.
Still, she clung to her plan like armor.
---
The apartment felt too quiet that evening. She triple-locked the door, pulled the curtains tight, and buried herself in the couch with a blanket and a book she couldn't focus on. Whiskers purred at her feet, the only sound keeping her grounded.
She whispered to herself, He can't find me. Not tonight. Not anymore.
The knock shattered her hope.
Slow. Heavy. Deliberate.
Her blood turned to ice.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No, no, no."
She didn't move. Maybe if she stayed silent, he'd leave.
"Elena." His voice, deep and calm, slithered through the door like smoke.
Her chest tightened. She stayed frozen.
The knock came again, firmer this time.
"I know you're there."
Her resolve cracked. She stood, clutching the blanket around her like it could shield her, and crept to the door. "Go away, Adrian!"
"Unlock it."
"No!"
Silence stretched. Then came the sound that made her stomach drop—the faint click of the lock sliding back on its own.
Her breath hitched. She hadn't touched it.
The door opened slowly, revealing him in the hallway, tall and dark, his presence filling the space before he even stepped inside.
Adrian's eyes locked on hers. Calm. Certain. Terrifying.
"You think numbers and locks can keep me out?" His voice was low, almost amused. "You still don't understand."
Elena stumbled back as he entered, every nerve screaming to run. But there was nowhere to go. He was already in, closing the door behind him with casual finality.
"Get out." Her voice shook, but she forced the words out. "This is my home. You don't belong here."
He advanced slowly, like a predator with no need to rush. "I told you before—I belong wherever you are."
Her fists clenched. "I changed my number. I blocked you. I don't want this. I don't want you."
Adrian stopped only a breath away, his gaze burning into hers. "Lies."
"It's not a lie," she snapped, surprising even herself with the volume of her voice. "You terrify me. You make me feel trapped in my own skin. You're ruining my life!"
For the first time, something flickered in his eyes—not hurt, not regret, but something sharp and dangerous.
"Good," he said softly. "Because if I ruin the life you thought you had, you'll have no choice but to live the one I give you."
Her stomach dropped. "You're insane."
"Maybe." His hand brushed against her cheek, feather-light but scorching. "But insanity is loyal. It doesn't let go."
She flinched away, pressing her back against the wall. "I'll never belong to you."
Adrian leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear. "You already do."
The words landed like shackles.
Before she could speak again, he stepped back, adjusting his cufflinks as though he hadn't just broken into her life like a storm.
"Sleep well, Elena." His smirk was faint, cruel. "Dream of me."
And just like that, he was gone—slipping out the door as quietly as he had entered.
Elena collapsed onto the floor, her body shaking with fury and fear.
Her plan had shattered in a single night.
And she knew—deep down, against every ounce of denial—that Adrian Blackthorn wasn't just part of her life anymore.
He was her life.