Elena Rivers
The night felt like damp silk pressing against her skin—unseen, inescapable.
Elena stood by her apartment window, watching the empty street below, but her reflection in the glass stared back more intently than the world outside.
She hadn't seen Damien in three days.
And yet… he was everywhere.
Her mind refused to quiet. The scent of his cologne lingered in her coat even after multiple washes. She'd thrown it out, but it didn't help. Her body still expected his presence behind her. In the silence, she swore she could hear his voice—low, amused, as if mocking her defiance.
She gripped the edge of the counter in the kitchen, breathing through her teeth.
She needed control. She needed sleep.
But her phone lit up.
Unknown number.
No text. Just the glow.
She didn't answer.
Two minutes later, a message finally arrived:
"Don't forget. I never leave what's mine."
Her fingers trembled. She deleted it. Tossed the phone across the room.
But she didn't scream. She didn't cry. She didn't run.
Because part of her… part of her didn't want him to stop.
And that terrified her most.
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