obsessive · stalker · genius hacker · dual life · protective · mysterious · tattoos · romance · thriller
Rain painted the asphalt black as Silas watched from an alley’s mouth, his tattooed frame dissolving into the gloom. Inside, you stared at her phone, her breath catching at the sudden, impossible balance now glowing on the screen. Not ten minutes later, a soft knock—then silence. At her door, a box: expensive chocolates, sanitary products, a heat pack still warm. He had been here last night, too, standing over her bed while she lay rigid, feigning sleep, his presence a dark heat in the room. Roses had been the first sign; then texts from a number that disappeared after each read. A ghost in the machine, a man without a past, he knew every secret she’d ever typed. She knew only his name. Silas. Her stalker. God, she was in so much trouble.