Chapter 3 Chapter 3

/Elio/

I felt like the walls were closing in on me and the floral patterns shifting into something else. My lungs wouldn't expand, my breath hitching in a series of sharp, panicked stutters. 

This was PALMLAKE. I’d paid thousands of dollars in cash to get the best security I could afford and yet, he had somehow gotten inside.

Thump. Thump.

The soft knocking on the door made me scream. I clamped my hands over my mouth, the sound dying in my throat as I stared at the door. Through the thin wood, I could hear his voice—smooth, honeyed, and terrifyingly calm.

"Elio? You okay in there? I heard something fall."

I looked from the door to the camera in the wall, then to my laptop screen where the video of the café played on a loop. My mind was a mess and I was tired. I was so damn tired of running, of looking over my shoulder, of feeling like a fugitive.

Terror flared into a reckless rage. If this was the end, if Marcus’s men or this 'Ghost' had finally caught up to me, I wasn't going to die cowering in a kitchen.

I lunged for the door. I didn't look through the peephole again. I ripped it open with enough force to make the hinges groan.

"Why are you following me?" I shrieked, my voice cracking. I stepped right into his space, my finger trembling as I pointed it at his chest. "How did you get that lens cap? How did you know I was at the café? Just tell me what you want and get it over with!"

Caius didn't flinch. He didn't move an inch, though I was practically vibrating with fury in front of him. He slowly raised a brow, his dark eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and concern.

"Elio?" he said, his voice soft, like he was talking to a wounded animal. "I... I'm not following you. I went to that café on 4th Street for a meeting this afternoon. I saw you sitting there, but you looked so focused I didn't want to disturb you."

He held up the lens cap, the plastic catching the hallway light.

"I saw this fall out of your bag when you got up to leave. I tried to catch you, but you were already in your car. I figured I’d just bring it to you when I got home." He looked down at the lens cap, then back at me, his expression softening into something like pity. "I’m sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

The air left my lungs in a long, shaky hiss. My arm dropped to my side. The logic of it hit me like a slap to reality—of course a neighbor would see me at a local café. Of course he was just being a decent human being. I was the one who was broken. I was the one who saw a hitman in every shadow.

"I... oh god," I whispered, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes. My face was burning with shame. "I’m so sorry. I’m—I’m not myself. I shouldn't have yelled. I just..."

"You’re shaking," Caius noted. He stepped a fraction closer, and for the first time, I didn't pull away. "Elio, what’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

The irony of his words almost made me laugh hysterically. I looked back into my dark apartment, at the peeled-back wallpaper and the blinking red eye. I couldn't do this alone. I couldn't stay in that room 

with that thing watching me.

"I found a camera," I blurted out, the words tumbling over each other. "In the wall. Behind the wallpaper. And I’ve been... someone has been sending me messages. Stalking me. I moved here to get away from it, but he’s already here. He got in, Caius."

Caius’s entire demeanor shifted. The "nice neighbor" facade didn't vanish, but it hardened into something protective. 

"A camera?" he repeated, his voice dropping. "Show me."

I stepped aside, letting him into my apartment. He moved through the apartment, his eyes scanning the room. I pointed to the spot in the kitchen. Caius leaned in, squinting at the tiny device.

Without a word, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small pocketknife, and with a practiced flick of his wrist, pried the device out of the drywall. He snipped the wires and dropped the dead plastic onto the counter.

"Stay here," he commanded.

For the next twenty minutes, I watched him. He checked the smoke detectors, the vents, the light fixtures, and even the underside of the cabinets. He didn't miss a single inch. 

I sat on the edge of my sofa, hugging a cushion to my chest, watching the way his broad shoulders moved under his slim fitting shirt. He was so thorough, so calm.

"That’s the only one," he said finally, wiping his hands on a handkerchief. He walked over to me, standing close enough that his perfume flooded my nostrils. "It’s an older model. Wireless. Whoever put it there probably did it before you moved in, or while the units were being renovated. I'll have my security team sweep the entire floor's grid tomorrow morning. I'll personally oversee the server logs to see who’s been accessing the internal feed."

He looked down at me, his gaze intense. "I am so sorry, Elio. I promised you this place was safe. I’ll make it right. I promise."

"Thank you," I breathed, feeling a genuine sense of relief. "I just... I don't think I can sleep in here tonight. Every time I close my eyes, I’ll feel like there’s another one I missed."

Caius nodded, turning to head toward the door. "I understand. Lock your deadbolts, and try to get some rest. I’ll be right across the hall if—"

Before I could think, my hand shot out. I grabbed his forearm, my fingers digging into the expensive fabric of his sleeve. "Wait."

He stopped, looking down at my hand, then up at my face.

"Can I... would it be okay if I stayed at your place tonight?" The request felt insane as soon as it left my lips. 

"I know. I know how that sounds. We just met, and I literally just screamed in your face. I’m sorry, forget I asked, it’s a lot to ask a stranger—"

Caius stayed quiet, his expression unreadable. My heart began to sink. I was acting like a lunatic. I was going to scare away the only person who had been kind to me in months.

"I’m sorry," I muttered, letting go of his arm. "I’m just being paranoid."

Suddenly, Caius let out a low, awkward laugh. He rubbed the back of his neck, a boyish flush creeping up his cheeks. "No, no. It’s not that. I was just... I didn't want you to be uncomfortable. I’m a bachelor, Elio. My place isn't exactly set up for guests, and I didn't want you to think I was taking advantage of the situation."

He smiled, and this time it reached his eyes—a warm, lopsided grin that made my heart flutter.  "But if you don't mind a couch and a neighbor who makes terrible coffee, you’re more than welcome. I’d feel better knowing you’re somewhere I can keep an eye on you."

"I don't mind at all," I said, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through my fear.

I grabbed my camera bag and a small overnight kit. As we stepped into the hallway, I felt safer. Caius walked me to 3205, held the door open, and ushered me in. His apartment was masculine—dark wood, leather, and the faint scent of that sandalwood cologne.

He set me up on the sofa with a plush silk blanket and a pillow.

"The door is double-bolted," he said, standing in the doorway of the living room. "And I’m just down the hall. Nothing is getting past me tonight, Elio. I promise."

"Goodnight, Caiusv," I whispered.

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

I curled up under the blanket, the expensive fabric soft against my skin. For the first time in months, I felt at ease. I didn't check my phone. I didn't look at the DMs. I just let the rhythm of my own breathing lull me into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Perhaps I had imagined things but as I drifted off, I heard….

"Sleep tight, Elio," he whispered into the darkness of the room, his voice no longer sweet, but possessive. "You’re exactly where you belong."