Someone was watching her again.

She didn’t see him. She didn’t have to.

The way the note was left on her kitchen counter—without a single sound, without a trace—was proof enough.

Just five words written in red ink:
You looked beautiful today.

Ava didn’t scream. She ran.

Her breath hitched as she bolted through the alley, rain slicing across her face like glass. The night closed in around her like a trap, each step echoing off the wet pavement. Her lungs burned. Her heartbeat pounded like a war drum.

She could feel him behind her. Not close, but close enough.

A dark scent lingered in the air—cologne, subtle but unmistakable. He wanted her to know. He wanted her afraid.

She turned a corner too fast. Slipped. Crashed into a rusted gate. Pain bloomed across her side, but she didn’t stop. She wouldn’t give him that.

Trembling fingers fumbled for her phone.

“Olivia. Please pick up.”

One ring.

Two.

“Still breathing?” came the low, familiar voice on the other end.

Ava barely managed to speak. “He was in my apartment. Again.”

A pause. Then, steady and cold: “Go to the address I just sent you. Now. Don’t stop. Don’t talk. When you get there, give your phone to the man at the door. Say nothing.”

Ava looked at the message. It was a neighborhood she didn’t know. Wealthy. Hidden. Dangerous.

“What is this place?” she whispered.

“Your last chance,” Olivia said, and hung up.

Thirty minutes later, a cab dropped her in front of an estate she’d never seen on a map. It looked like it belonged to someone who had secrets buried under concrete—and the money to keep them that way.

The iron gate opened without a sound.

No doorbell. No lights. No second thoughts.

She stepped forward, rain trailing down her neck. The main door creaked open before she could knock.

The man who appeared wasn’t what she expected.

He was taller than any man had a right to be. Broad-shouldered, dressed in black, all sharp lines and calm menace. His face was too still. His eyes too unreadable—dark, like slate under storm clouds.

He stared at her like he already knew what she was running from.

“Phone,” he said simply.

Ava hesitated.

He tilted his head, voice quiet but firm. “No hesitation. No questions. No safety if you break the rules.”

She handed him the phone.

He turned, disappearing into the shadows of the hallway without another word.

Ava crossed the threshold.

Behind her, the door clicked shut.

Locked.

And for the first time since the notes began, she wondered:
Had she just run into something worse?

To be continued...