"He's here."
Aaira doesn't have to say his name.
Rida feels him before she sees him.
Drake steps out of his car like he owns the street. His movements are calm. Controlled. Dangerous.
His gaze locks onto her instantly. Heavy. Dark. Possessive.
He looks at her like she already belongs to him.
Rida feels a knot in her stomach.
She was supposed to be happy right now.
She had just graduated. Finally done with university. Finally free from her parents' constant watch. They were lecturers at the same campus—always around, always aware. She never had space to breathe.
Now she did.
She wanted love. Soft love. Sweet dates. Late-night calls. A normal life.
Instead, she got him.
Drake.
The man who wouldn't take no for an answer from anyone.
The man followed her everywhere. The man who proposed like it was a threat.
Her house. Cafés. Restaurants. Even private gatherings.
He was always there.
Watching.
Waiting.
"Don't look at him," Rida murmurs, staring down at her phone even though the screen is black. "He'll come inside."
The café door opens. And Rida's heart almost jumped out of her mouth.
The waitress, confused, places their coffee and sandwiches down, unaware of the storm outside the glass walls.
Aaira waits until she leaves.
"What did he do now?" she asks quietly.
Rida exhales. "Last week. At dinner with my classmates. He showed up."
Aaira stiffens. "And?"
"You remember Paul?"
"The one obsessed with that blonde girl?"
"Yes."
"What about him?"
"It was our last dinner together. We were laughing. Taking pictures. Trying to make memories." Her fingers curl around her cup. "Paul was sitting next to me. He accidentally spilled wine on my dress."
"And Drake saw."
It isn't a question.
Rida nods. "He came out of nowhere. Grabbed Paul by the collar. Lifted him from his seat like he weighed nothing."
Aaira's eyes widen. "You're joking."
"I wish I was." Rida's voice shakes now. "Everyone stared, and Paul appeared afraid. "I've never felt more embarrassed in my life."
She pauses.
"I couldn't even finish dinner."
Silence settles between them.
Outside, Drake leans against his car, smoking slowly. Patiently.
Like he has all the time in the world.
"Why don't you report him again?" Aaira asks.
"I did."
"And?"
"He walked out the same day." Her lips press into a thin line. "Before leaving, he told me he'd remember this."
Aaira swears under her breath.
"When you start working, this could get worse."
"I know." Fear flashes across Rida's face. "What if he ruins that, too? What if my future is just him following me forever?"
Aaira hesitates. "Maybe talk to him one last time. Be clear. Maybe he'll understand."
Rida looks outside again.
He's already watching her.
Always watching.
Despite the tightness in her chest, she declares, "I'll try." "One last time."
Before Aaira can stop her, she's walking out the door.
Each step feels heavy.
When Drake notices her approaching, he straightens himself, and a soft smile appears on his face.
She folds her arms to mask her trembling and asks, "Can you stop following me?"
He steps closer.
Too close.
He smelled of smoke and something darker that she couldn't seem to recognize.
"I can," he softly says. "If you agree to be mine."
He puts his hand around her waist as though it were meant to be there.
Rida's fear turns into rage.
She shoves him.
Then slaps him.
The sound echoes across the quiet street. For a brief second, everything freezes.
Slowly, Drake's head turns back to her.
His expression changes.
The softness disappears.
"You think," he says quietly, gripping her arms hard enough to hurt, "you can hit me and walk away?"
"Let go of me!" she shouts, struggling.
People inside the café are watching now. No one moves.
Drake's jaw tightens.
Then—
He pulls out a gun.
The world stops.
Gasps fill the air.
He presses the gun against her face.
"Anyone who tries to be a hero," he says calmly, "she dies."
Aaira steps forward—
And stops.
Her blood runs cold.
Rida's breathing becomes shallow, but she still lifts her chin.
She won't cry.
Not in front of him.
Drake drags her toward his car.
"Rida!" Aaira screams.
The car door slams.
The engine roars.
And just like that—
He's gone.
Aaira runs into the street, her heart racing so hard it hurts.
Empty road.
There is no sign of them.
Her hands shake as she reaches for her phone in her pockets. The police won't help. They already proved that.
She calls the only person she trusts.
"Hello?"
"My friend—" Her voice cracks. "She's been kidnapped."
"What? By whom?"
"He's a drug dealer."
"What's his name?"
Her mind goes blank.
Think.
Think.
"Drake," she breathes suddenly. "His name is Drake."
There's a pause on the other end.
"Alright," the voice says calmly. "Don't worry."
But Aaira is already drowning in guilt.
She told Rida to talk to him.
If anything happens to her—
She grips the phone tighter.
"I will bring you back," she whispers to the empty road. "No matter what it takes."
And for the first time since this nightmare began, fear slowly turns into something else.
Something dangerous.