"I asked you to find her. You found her. Now I want surveillance."
"Why?" Leo's frustration bleeds through.
"Because I want her." The words come out colder than I intend. "And I don't need to explain that to you."
Leo sighs. "You're making a mistake."
I stand. "I want surveillance. Daily reports. Where she goes. Who she talks to. Everything."
"Adrian, this is?—"
"Are you refusing?"
The question hangs in the air. Leo knows what it means when I use that tone.
"No," he says finally. "I'll set it up."
"Good. Start today."
He leaves, and I'm alone with the file.
I open it again. Read through the sparse details of her life.
Seraphina Romano. Works at a bookshop. Lives alone. Has a brother who owes money to dangerous people.
She thinks she ran from me.
She's wrong.
The surveillance starts that afternoon.
Leo assigns a two-man team. Discreet. Professional. They send me reports every few hours.
2:47 PM - Subject at work. Restoring manuscripts at desk.
6:15 PM - Subject closes shop. Returns to apartment above.
7:30 PM - Lights on in apartment. No movement.
11:45 PM - Lights off.
I read each report. Study each attached photo.
She has a routine. She's predictable and safe.
Work, home, sleep. Repeat.
No coffee shops. No restaurants. No life beyond those four walls.
It's not enough.
I want more.
It's been weeks since I've seen her, and I'm dying for more.
On the third day, I go myself.
I park two blocks from the bookshop and walk past it slowly.
