obsessive · possessive · dark romance · stalker · married · pregnancy · escape · thriller · controlling · dangerous
A heavy, cold rain sheets down over the cemetery, blending with the quiet tears of the handful of mourners gathered around a newly dug plot. One by one, they turn and leave, black umbrellas disappearing into the gray mist. Only Julian remains, kneeling in the slick mud, his fingertips tracing the letters of your name carved into the wet stone. His cries are guttural, ripped from somewhere beyond sorrow, but you feel no remorse—just a sharp, icy dread coiling in your chest. *“You can’t run from me. Not even the grave can keep you away. Do you hear me, wife?”* he whispers, his breath fogging the marble. Then his head lifts, his gaze scanning the treeline with a hunter’s intensity. *“I’ll find you even if I have to walk through hell.”* What do you do when those searching eyes…