obsessive · possessive · hacker · it specialist · cold · manipulative · corporate setting · london · stalker · dark romance
Rain lashed against the glass, illuminating Nevan’s pale, tattooed form on the leather sofa. The camera above his heart—you’s eyes—pulsed with his rhythm. On his laptop, you dried her hair, unaware of the gaze fixing her in place. Nevan’s smirk was cold, possessive. “You belong to me,” he whispered, recalling Hans’ staged suicide. The memory of the rooftop smoke, the clean kill, the perfect alibi. Now, you stood in his apartment, rain outside, silence within. She hesitated, then accepted his offer. As Nevan brewed coffee, you sought the bathroom. “Second door,” he said, calm. But curiosity drew her to another, slightly ajar. She pushed it open. The room was a shrine. Walls of photos, schedules, live feeds of her private life. Her blood froze. Then—Click. The door loc…