I let go. He fell back to the ground. I turned and left. Got in my car, started the engine, drove to Anthea's building.
She'd be asleep by now.
Her door was nothing to me. Might as well have been wide open. I slipped into her bedroom, stood by the bed, and watched her for a long time. Then I pulled two micro-cameras from my pocket. Small as grains of rice, but high-res, remote-controlled angles.
I eased the closet door open. Anthea's clothes hung neat and tidy, smelling like her. I installed one camera in the gap at the top of the closet. Hidden, but perfect view. Covered the whole bedroom, including her bed.
Then I slid into the bathroom, planted the waterproof camera behind the mirror. Perfect angle. Next time, that bathroom wall wouldn't block me. And from now on, I could watch her every day.
Finished, I returned to the bed. Anthea mumbled something in her sleep. I froze, didn't dare breathe. But her breathing evened out again.
I picked up her phone from the nightstand. Screen bright in the dark, too bright. I dimmed it immediately. Password? I'd already memorized her finger pattern through the telescope, tracking her movements. Unlocked in three seconds.
My fingers flew across the screen. Less than two minutes. Tracking and surveillance software buried deep in the system. Auto-hidden icon. Even professionals would struggle to find it.
From this moment on, every place Anthea went, every call she made, every text she sent—all of it streaming live to my server.
I set the phone back gently, like it had never been touched. Then I leaned down and stared at her sleeping face. A twisted, sick satisfaction filled my chest. She had no idea. She was mine to control now.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Anthea," I whispered. "I'm sick. Real sick. Only you can cure me. You'll always be mine."
She frowned in her sleep, like she sensed something. But she didn't wake. Just rolled over, buried her face in the pillow.
Chapter Thirteen
Anthea
The bus jolted down the morning streets, the cabin packed and loud with the kind of real, messy chaos I'd spent six years building into my normal life. But now it was all threatening to crumble because of one man.
"Morning, Julian." I pressed my phone to my ear, keeping my voice low. "You got a minute?"
"Morning, Anthea."
Something was off. Julian's usually bright voice sounded rough, scraped raw.
I frowned. He'd been fine last night.
"You sound weird. You coming down with something?"
"Uh—yeah," he choked, followed by a series of wet, heavy coughs and a sharp inhale. "Bad cold. This shitty weather—throat's been killing me since I got home."
"You need rest, Julian. We can talk later if you're not up for it."
"No, no. I'm fine, Anthea." His tone turned urgent. "So what's going on?"
I bit my lip. The decision was already made. Silas showing up had dropped a stone in my gut, but I couldn't ignore reality anymore. Iwas a teacher now. I had a steady income. And thanks to living like a monk, I'd saved a decent chunk of money. I could give Olei a good life.
"Julian, I need to tell you something. Silas—the guy from last night—we were together before. Olei is my biological son."
Silence.
It stretched so long I thought the call had dropped.
When Julian finally spoke again, his voice was even stranger.
"What? You two—that kid is yours?"
A sharp intake of breath.
