Details Matter.

Sage

The apartment door slams shut behind me, the sound snapping through the dim space like a full stop on another adrenaline-soaked night. I kick off my boots, peel out of the blood-splattered hoodie, and let it hit the floor where it falls. I don’t look at it again. The night clings to me, cold and sticky, but all I want is comfort. Naomi is already curled up on the couch, flipping through channels like any of it matters. It doesn’t, not with him still in my head. I drop onto the cushions and tip sideways, letting my head land in her lap.  “Well, hello to you, too,” she mutters, smiling as she shifts to make room. Her fingers slide into my hair, working through the tangles the way she always does. “How’s your little boyfriend today?” I sigh, long and heavy. “He’s perfect,” I say. “He looked at me tonight.” Her fingers still. “Looked at you looked at you?” I push myself up just enough to catch her eyes. “ It was just across the room. I was tucked in the dark with my mask on, but I know.” I swallow. “Our eyes locked, though, and I felt it again.” She arches a brow and doesn’t laugh at how stupid I sound. “That feeling from the first time?”

“Yes.” My hands come up, then drag down my face like friction might burn it out of me. “That stupid, soul-splitting thing that made me fall before I even knew his name.” Naomi snorts. “Obsessed. You are absolutely a stalker.” There’s no bite in the way she says it. She’s seen too much to judge, and I don’t bother trying to deny it. I am obsessed. Can you blame me? “He’s just…right,” I say quietly. “He walks into a room, and people shut up. He’s commanding, but kind and compassionate, and when he looked at me, even with all those men around him, I felt seen.” My voice dips. “I haven’t felt that since…” I stop because I don’t need to finish it. Yakov lives in the silence between us. Naomi shifts beneath me, her jaw tightening just a little. We have the same ruler, the same cage, the same scars.

“He saved my life,” I say after a moment. “And he doesn’t even know it. He just walked in, killed the right man, and the world cracked open.” I stare at the ceiling. “I can’t stop replaying that moment. I can’t stop watching him. I can’t stop dreaming about being in his life, by his side.” Her fingers pause again. “And you’re going to do that by breaking into his house and leaving body parts in boxes?” I look at her flatly. “They are gifts.” She sighs. “Of course they were. They’re very ‘Sage’ style gifts.”

“One day,” I murmur, settling back against her. “When Yakov is dead and when the others are gone. When it’s safe… I’ll have him completely. The way I want him.” My voice drops. “Until then, I will protect him. He doesn’t need to know yet.” She’s quiet for a long moment, fingers moving again, slow and steady. “You’re going to ruin him,” she says softly. A smile finds me before I can stop it. “Only if he lets me.”

When Naomi finally enters her room and the door clicks shut, the silence creeps in, threatening to make me insane. I go to the duffel bag by the door and pull out the black container. The pasta inside is still slightly warm. I had hoped to have time to eat it in the bushes, where I could watch Conner eat his. Alas, life hates me, and I had to leave. I heat it without ceremony, the microwave humming while I set my laptop on the scarred kitchen table. Four screens light up within seconds, as his world opens for me. I have every camera, every microphone, every quiet breath he thinks is private. I slip in my earbuds and sync the bugs I planted in his home weeks ago, my fingers moving without thought. His voice filters through, low and rough from his kitchen.

The new cameras he installed don’t slow me down. I mapped them the day they went live. I watch him sit at the table, sleeves rolled up, hair mussed like he’s run his hand through it too many times. Tension sits in his shoulders, heavy but contained. He’s safe. For now. On the table in front of him lies the dinner I made and delivered. “Good boy,” I whisper as he takes another bite and wipes his mouth with a napkin he doesn’t realise I chose. I like knowing that I can provide for him. He works so hard, and on the days I can’t bring him food, he makes terrible choices. I switch screens.

One of Yakov’s men showed up three blocks from Conner’s territory earlier tonight. He’s sloppy. I flag the car, reroute a message to him and dress it up like a job offer from a rival. He’ll take the bait tomorrow, and then I’ll clean it up quietly. I’m the only one allowed to watch Conner, and he doesn’t need that blood. That’s what I’m here for, to keep him safe, fed and looked after. I glance back at him through the screen. “Sleep soon,” I murmur. “You’ve got the docks tomorrow, but don’t worry, darling, I cleared the route.” He takes another bite and another breath. I eat slowly, not because I’m hungry, but because he is. I want to match him, keep pace with him. I want to be a shadow moving in time with his pulse.

After midnight, I shut the laptop. Wash my fork and slide it back into the drawer the way I always do. I pause at the window, where the city lights blink back at me. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s already mine. And when the blood stops running, when the past is buried under the men who tried to keep us apart, I’ll let him love me back.