Elena barely felt human the next morning. Her body moved through the motions—coffee, shower, clothes—but her mind was wired tight, every nerve raw. Sleep had been impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, she heard his voice echoing through her skull. Sleep well, Elena. She'd curled under her blanket, whispering prayers into the dark, but nothing silenced the certainty gnawing at her.
He was out there.
Watching.
The city outside didn't care. By the time she left her apartment, the streets buzzed with their usual rhythm—horns blaring, buses hissing, people shouting into phones as they rushed to work. Elena clutched her bag to her chest, weaving through the crowd, trying to lose herself in the flow. But she couldn't shake the sensation that she was being followed.
When she reached the corner, she froze.
A sleek black car idled across the street. Its windows were tinted dark. The engine hummed low, steady, patient. She swallowed hard. Coincidence. Just coincidence. She turned sharply down another street, her boots striking the pavement faster now.
But the car moved too.
Her pulse stuttered. She quickened her pace, slipping into the subway station. The air below was thick with the smell of damp concrete and old iron. She rushed past the turnstile, down the stairs, and onto the crowded platform. The car couldn't follow her here. She exhaled, shoulders loosening slightly. Relief was fragile, but it was there.
Until she looked up.
He stood across the platform.
The Don.
Dressed in dark jeans and a casual jacket this time, sunglasses covering his eyes. He looked like any other commuter, and yet nothing about him was ordinary. His presence rippled through the crowd like a silent command. Elena's chest clenched. She couldn't breathe.
The screech of metal announced the train's arrival. The doors hissed open. She shoved forward with the surge of passengers, desperate to disappear into the swarm. She slipped inside, clinging to the overhead rail as the train lurched.
The doors began to close.
And he stepped in.
The crowd seemed to part for him without realizing it. He moved with a predator's grace, casual yet purposeful, until he stood just feet away from her. The train roared into motion, carrying them forward, and Elena felt her lungs lock up. Trapped. Nowhere to run.
"You're following me," she hissed, trying to sound braver than she felt.
"Observing," he corrected, his voice calm, even bored. "I like to see how you move when you think no one is watching."
Her fingers tightened on the rail. "You're insane."
A faint curve tugged at his mouth. "Perhaps. But you fascinate me, Elena."
"I'm not—" Her throat closed, her heart beating so violently it hurt. "I'm not yours."
He leaned in, the sunglasses hiding his eyes, but she felt his stare pierce her anyway. His voice dropped, low and intimate. "Say that again, bella, and see if I believe you."
The train jerked as it sped into the tunnel. Elena stumbled, catching herself against the door. His hand shot out, steadying her, his palm burning against her arm. The heat of his touch seared through her sweater. She jerked away instantly, but he didn't flinch. His smirk deepened, satisfied.
The doors opened at the next stop. She didn't hesitate. She bolted.
Her boots slapped against the platform as she pushed through the crowd, her lungs screaming. She shoved past commuters, took the stairs two at a time, and burst back into daylight. The cold air hit her like a slap, but she didn't stop. She ran down the street, weaving through pedestrians, every muscle screaming at her to go faster.
She risked a glance behind her.
He was there.
Not running. Walking. Calm. Confident. His long strides closed the distance as though he knew she'd tire before he ever would. The crowd seemed to bend around him, people unconsciously moving aside. His sunglasses gleamed in the sunlight as he tilted his head, watching her with quiet amusement.
Her chest heaved. Panic clawed up her throat. She turned sharply into an alley, hoping to lose him in the maze of side streets. She sprinted, splashing through puddles left from last night's rain. The air reeked of garbage and rust, but she pushed through, heart pounding louder than her footsteps.
She reached the end of the alley and slammed against the chain-link fence blocking her path. Her fingers scrambled for the latch, shaking, fumbling, useless. She turned—
And froze.
He stood at the mouth of the alley, framed in sunlight, hands in his pockets as if he'd been strolling through the park. His presence filled the narrow space, his calm terrifying her more than any weapon could.
"You run well," he said, voice carrying easily through the alley. "Fast. Determined."
Her back hit the fence, metal rattling behind her. "Stay away from me!"
He tilted his head, studying her. "You think I chase you to hurt you?"
"Yes!" Her voice cracked. "What else could it be?"
Slowly, he stepped closer, each movement unhurried, controlled. "If I wanted you dead, Elena, you wouldn't have made it out of that alley last night. You'd be another body in the rain."
Her skin crawled. "Then what do you want?"
He stopped just a few feet from her. His gaze lowered, tracing her from head to toe, before returning to her eyes. "To remind you. You're not invisible. You don't vanish from me."
Tears stung her eyes. "Why me?"
He smirked faintly. "Because you ran. And no one runs from me."
She pressed harder against the fence, wishing it would swallow her whole. "I'll go to the police."
He chuckled softly, the sound rich and chilling. "And tell them what? That you saw a man in an alley? That he scares you? They won't touch me, bella. I own this city. The police, the streets, even the fear in your veins right now."
Her knees wobbled, barely holding her weight. She hated herself for trembling in front of him, hated the heat flushing her skin, hated the twisted pull inside her chest when his voice wrapped around her like chains.
The sound of another train rumbled faintly above them. Life went on, blind to her terror.
The Don took one final step, close enough that the air between them throbbed. His cologne clung to her nose—dark spice, subtle but powerful. He leaned down, his voice brushing her ear.
"Run faster, Elena. I enjoy the chase."
Her stomach flipped. Before she could react, he turned, walking casually back toward the street. He didn't look back, didn't rush. He left her pressed against the fence, trembling, breath ragged, her pulse a drumbeat in her skull.
Elena slid down the chain-link, collapsing to her knees. Tears spilled hot down her cheeks. She'd thought the nightmare was last night. But this—this was worse. This was daylight. This was everywhere.
And she knew one thing for certain.
He wasn't letting go.