“You like this? Watching me while I didn’t know?”
Her voice, Aniyah’srealvoice, cut through the haze like a blade. I jolted out of my trance, heart stuttering as I turned to face her. She stood with arms crossed over her chest, her expression unreadable, but her eyes locked on mine.
“I—I…” Words stumbled out, useless and broken. What was the right answer? What would she want to hear? Would the truth ruin everything?
I inhaled sharply and bowed my head. “Yes.”
The word was soft, but in the silence that had fallen between us, it had the strength of a scream. I kept going, hoping the silence would end and she could tell me what she really thought.
“I enjoy watching you,” I admitted, lifting my gaze to hers, “in every way. It makes me feel closer to you, like I’m getting to know pieces of you that no one else sees.”
She didn’t speak, didn’t move, but she also didn’t leave. That had to count for something.
“I want to feel your glow, bask in your aura… but you keep your guard up.” I rushed to soften the sting of that truth. “Not that it’s wrong. I get it. With everything you’ve gone through, with your position, of course you’d have walls. You had to survive, and you’ve built something incredible all on your own.”
Her eyes shifted. The steel didn’t leave her stance, but something flickered in her expression, an almost imperceptible softening. Still, she didn’t speak.
I could see it on her face. She didn't know if she trusted me, trusted what I was saying. I needed to prove it to her somehow. Then an idea clicked, one that I never wanted to unearth if I didn't have to, but here we were.
“Let me show you something,” I said, my voice quieter now, almost pleading. “It’ll help explain everything.”
She raised a brow but didn’t stop me. The subtle tip of her chin gave me permission to get going.
My hands trembled as I opened the top drawer and dug into the back. Old pain rose like smoke from a wound, but I shoved it down. This wasn’t about me. It was abouther.
I placed the small plastic card on the desk.
She stepped forward, fingers brushing over the card. “A room key to the?—”
Her voice faded. Her brow furrowed as realization dawned, then her eyes snapped up to mine.
“It’s not the one you gave me,” I said quickly, shame thick in my throat. “That one was stolen. Byhim.That fucking wolf.”
I spat the word, disgusted at myself for not protecting what she had given me. For being so stupid. For letting that moment be taken from us.
She stood frozen, eyes wide as her hand curled around the key. “You… you were the mystery man at my birthday?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “The one I danced with?”
I nodded. The words I wanted to say—the one who made you come in front of the whole room, claiming you with my mouth before I even knew your face or name—lodged in my throat. Now wasn’t the time.
“You told me to wait thirty minutes,” I said instead, “so I went to get champagne. Flowers. I wanted to make the night perfect, but when I got back…” My voice cracked. “There was nothing left but a destroyed room.”
Her fingers still played with the key, eyes lost in memories of the past. My hands itched to reach for her, to make her understand.
“I applied for the IT job your brother posted after you announced taking your boss seat and your move to New York. I figured… at least I could look after you, protect you.”
She looked at me like I was a story she’d never read, her head slowly shaking.
I reached for her hand, weaving my fingers through hers. “I failed you that night, so I’ve spent every day since trying to earn the right to be near you again. Watching over you. It was so lonely, but then I started to collect memories, pieces of you I could take, could cherish… and then it grew into that.” I paused,my breath catching like I’d been running. “I don’t care if I’m your mate. I don’t care if you never want one or if you want fifty. Just let me stay near you. Let me be the shadow to your fire. That’s all I ask.”
She bit her lip and looked away, and I forced myself to stay still, to let her process.
Then, without a word, she slipped from my grasp and walked past me. I turned, pulse pounding, only to see her lift one of the roses from the vase on the side table at the end.
She twirled the stem, brought the bloom to her nose, inhaled, and then looked at me, something wicked and beautiful blooming across her face.
“You’re the stalker,” she said, her voice deceptively light. “The secret admirer?”
I flinched. “Yes.”
