Once inside my apartment, I spent a frantic few minutes searching for the cat. When I finally found him fast asleep on the living room sofa, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. His bowl was half-empty, and his litter box... well, it needed attention. After playing maid—cleaning up and refilling his food—I collapsed onto my bed, utterly drained. There was a dull, persistent ache in my lower abdomen, a lingering reminder of last night, but I tried to push it to the back of my mind.
I pulled my laptop closer and checked my notifications. Nothing.
Suddenly, a curious thought sparked in my mind: Why not look up Collins on social media?
A minute later, Chris's wide, charismatic smile lit up the dim room. The profile picture showed a devastatingly attractive man in his mid-twenties—though I knew he was slightly older—with piercing blue eyes that felt like a plunge into the deep ocean. My first instinct was to scroll through the rest of his photos.
There he was with friends... there with Nick—it was hard to believe Nick was thirty—and there he was alone. And then, I saw it.
Him... and a girl.
It definitely wasn't Dora, his dark-haired ex. Collins was smiling brilliantly, his hand possessively wrapped around the girl's waist. My own smile began to wither. Was I jealous? Hell yes. It was a sharp, ugly sting. The post was from a month ago, and by the way he held her, they were clearly more than just "acquaintances."
I couldn't bring myself to hit the "Add Friend" button. I slammed the laptop shut and threw myself back onto the pillows. Exhaustion claimed me, and I let myself drift into a restless sleep.
Hours blurred together. I woke up a few times, tossing and turning, chased by a lingering sense of dread I couldn't quite name. Outside, a thick, ink-black night had swallowed the city. Rain began to drum against the glass—a storm was brewing, just as the forecast had warned.
Armed with a mug of strong tea and my laptop, I sat on the windowsill, leaning my head against the cold glass like a heroine in a cliché romance novel. My thoughts were a chaotic whirlpool. For some reason, I remembered Kate's tattoo—the strange, intriguing inscription I'd seen on her wrist. I typed the letters into an auto-detect translator. It looked ancient, possibly Latin.
Suddenly, movement caught my eye. Two hulking figures were moving with chilling purpose across my yard. My heart skipped a beat. What the hell are guys like that doing here? I tried to convince myself they were visiting a neighbor, but then one of them snapped his head up, his menacing gaze landing directly on my window.
The "cheap action movie" instincts kicked in. I ducked down instantly, pressing my back against the wall, my heart hammering against my ribs. I don't even like action movies.
I peeked out again, careful to stay hidden. The first man—the one who'd nearly spotted me—was heading for the building entrance. The second stayed in the yard, casually lighting a cigar.
Lily, you're being paranoid, I whispered to myself. But then again, first there were "He's mine!" messages, then a near-fatal accident. Paranoia felt like the only sane reaction.
My heart dropped into my stomach when a loud, insistent buzz echoed through the apartment. Someone was at the door. I prayed I'd locked it. A suffocating silence followed, then a heavy knock. I felt the vibration in my very soul. I was terrified.
I crept to the door and looked through the peephole. It was him—the giant from the yard.
I scrambled back into the living room, grabbed my phone, and dialed Collins. Ring... knock... ring... buzz. The sounds grew more aggressive, more rhythmic.
Then, it stopped. The silence was even worse. A second later, the unmistakable scratching of a lockpick echoed through the hallway. They're coming in.
The balcony. Thank God for the fire escape. My leg had only recently healed, but adrenaline is a hell of a drug. I was over the railing and moving like a pro climber the moment I heard my front door click open.
I ducked into a shadow against the wall, hidden from view from above, my fingers trembling as I kept redialing Chris. Rain began to pour, drenching my hair and clothes.
"She's a slippery one," a gruff voice growled from my balcony. I heard a muffled spit. "Sery, she's gone... How should I know? She's just gone... No, don't tell the Boss yet. I don't want another beating."
I held my breath, shivering in the cold. After a tense minute, the heavy footsteps retreated. I let out a ragged sigh of relief. I'd made it. Or so I thought. I realized then I was standing in the freezing rain in nothing but my pajamas and my ridiculous cockroach-shaped slippers.
Finally, the line connected.
"Hello?"
"Chris, someone broke into my place!" I hissed into the phone, my voice shaking as I continued my descent. "Someone..."
Suddenly, a pair of powerful arms wrapped around me from behind. A cloth, saturated with something sharp and chemical, was pressed hard over my mouth. The phone slipped from my numb fingers, clattering onto the metal grate.
There was no strength left to fight. The world began to tilt and fade into black.
I'm in deep trouble.