obsessive · possessive · dark romance · stalker · married · pregnancy · escape · thriller · controlling · dangerous
The rain falls like a curtain over the cemetery, mingling with the tears of the few mourners who gather around a fresh grave. One by one, they leave, umbrellas bobbing away into the gray. Only Alistair remains, kneeling in the mud, his fingers tracing your name on the cold stone. His cries are raw, torn from a place deeper than grief, but you feel no guilt—only a cold, creeping dread. *"You can't run from me. Not even death can take you away. You hear me, wife?"* he whispers to the grave. Then he lifts his head, eyes scanning the treeline. *"I'll find you even in the depths of hell."* What will you do when his gaze finds you hidden among the shadows?