The morning after the rainstorm felt eerily quiet.
The city outside Isabelle's apartment buzzed with the usual rhythm of cars, voices, and distant sirens but inside, everything felt suspended, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
She hadn't slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him Sebastian, soaked in rain, his jaw clenched, fury and fear written across his face as he slammed that stranger against the wall.
She'd wanted to stay angry. To hold onto the hurt that had made her walk away from him. But something about the look in his eyes desperation, not dominance kept breaking through her walls.
Now she wasn't sure what to feel.
Was he still trying to control her?
Or was he the only thing standing between her and something far worse?
She made herself coffee and tried to shake the thought. It was just paranoia. A coincidence.
Then her phone vibrated.
A new message.
Unknown number.
Her heart skipped a beat before she opened it.
"You shouldn't have walked away from protection, Miss Lane."
Attached was a photo taken from across the street.
Of her. Standing by the window.
Isabelle froze, her breath catching in her throat. She dropped the cup; coffee splashed across the floor, seeping under her bare feet.
Her hands trembled as she locked the door, double-checking it twice, three times.
The walls seemed to close in on her. Every sound the creak of the floorboards, the wind brushing the curtains felt like a threat.
She backed away from the window, heart hammering so hard it hurt.
Her first thought was Sebastian.
She hated that. Hated that even after everything, her instinct was to run back to him.
But who else could she trust?
Two hours later, she sat in a small café near the old district, trying to calm herself. The barista smiled as he handed her a pastry, but Isabelle barely noticed.
Her mind kept replaying the message. The photo. The timing.
It wasn't random.
Someone was watching her.
She took a deep breath and pulled out her phone again, scrolling through her contacts until her finger hovered over Sebastian.
She almost pressed call.
Almost.
Then she remembered his last words.
"I can't lose you."
Her throat tightened. "You're not mine to lose," she whispered to herself.
She deleted the message instead and tried to focus on the world outside the people laughing, rushing, living. Normalcy she couldn't seem to reach anymore.
But then she noticed it.
A reflection in the café window.
A man, sitting at a table across the street. Watching her.
He wasn't even pretending to hide it.
The cup in her hand trembled slightly.
She turned her face toward the window, pretending to check her phone, and caught his reflection again. Dark coat. Hat pulled low. Same figure she'd seen the night before when Sebastian had tackled that photographer.
Her stomach dropped.
She stood up quickly, grabbing her purse, and walked out through the back door.
The alley behind the café was narrow and half-flooded from the night's rain. Her shoes splashed as she hurried through it, her pulse racing.
She didn't stop until she reached the next street only to realize she'd walked straight into another pair of eyes watching her.
A woman this time, on the corner, pretending to talk on her phone but never looking away.
Isabelle's breath hitched.
She turned sharply down another street, weaving through pedestrians. She didn't know where she was going just away. Away from the eyes, the cameras, the shadows.
When she finally reached the busier district, she ducked into a bookstore and pressed herself between two tall shelves, heart pounding in her ears.
The smell of paper and dust filled her lungs. Slowly, she exhaled.
"Get a grip, Isabelle," she muttered. "You're imagining things."
But the moment she said it, her phone buzzed again.
Another message.
"Running won't help. He can't protect you this time."
She dropped the phone. Her knees almost gave out.
She didn't even realize she was crying until someone touched her shoulder.
"Miss? Are you all right?" a clerk asked gently.
"I, I'm fine," Isabelle stammered, forcing a smile she didn't feel. "Just, just dizzy."
The woman looked unconvinced but nodded.
As soon as she turned away, Isabelle picked up her phone and stepped outside, dialing the number she swore she wouldn't.
Sebastian answered on the second ring.
"Isabelle?" His voice was low, urgent.
She tried to speak, but the words tangled in her throat. "Someone's following me."
He went silent for half a second. Then his tone shifted sharp, commanding.
"Where are you?"
"Downtown. Near the old bookstore."
"Stay inside. Don't move. I'm sending Liam and "
"No," she said quickly. "I don't want your men swarming me again. I just wanted you to know."
"Isabelle," his voice softened, "you're not safe. Please. Let me help."
Her hand trembled. She hated how much comfort his voice brought.
"Fine," she whispered. "But if this is some trick to get me back"
"It's not."
She heard the sound of his car engine start through the line.
"I'm on my way."
Fifteen minutes later, he arrived.
When she saw him step out of the black car his shirt sleeves rolled, his eyes burning with barely contained emotion something inside her cracked.
He didn't speak. He just pulled her into his arms, and for the first time in days, she let herself collapse against him.
For a long moment, neither said anything. The city blurred around them rain, noise, strangers and it felt like they were the only two people left in the world.
Finally, he whispered, "I told you someone was watching. Daniel isn't done with us."
She looked up at him, eyes glistening. "Why me? What does he want from me?"
Sebastian's jaw tightened. "Because he can't reach me directly. So he's using you."
"Then what happens now?"
He brushed his thumb against her cheek, voice low. "Now I make sure no one touches you again."
"But that's the problem, isn't it?" she said bitterly. "You always think you have to protect me. Control everything. And look where that got us."
He met her gaze steadily. "If control is what keeps you alive, I'll take the blame."
For a moment, anger flared in her chest. But then she saw something in his eyes she hadn't noticed before fear. Real, human fear.
Not of losing control.
Of losing her.
The realization hit her hard.
Everything he'd done the walls, the secrecy, the overprotectiveness wasn't about dominance. It was about guilt and love tangled so tightly he couldn't tell them apart.
And for the first time, she saw the man behind the monster the world thought he was.
That night, he took her back to the mansion. Not because she wanted to stay, but because she couldn't bring herself to say no.
The moment they stepped inside, she felt that strange comfort again the scent of him, the safety of thick walls, the quiet hum of security systems in the background.
"Stay in the west wing," he told her. "Liam will have a guard stationed outside your door until we find out who's behind this."
"I thought you already knew."
He hesitated. "I have suspicions. But until I can prove it, I don't want to give Daniel the satisfaction of knowing he's shaken me."
She crossed her arms. "You are shaken."
He gave a small, humorless smile. "Only when it comes to you."
That disarmed her more than any argument could.
She turned away quickly, pretending to examine the paintings on the wall. But her chest tightened.
For all his flaws, Sebastian wasn't pretending anymore. The walls were cracking, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to stop them from falling.
Later that night, long after he'd left her room, Isabelle stood by the window.
Outside, the garden glistened under silver moonlight. Somewhere beyond the trees, a shadow moved too large to be an animal.
She leaned forward, heart pounding.
A man stood at the edge of the estate, just beyond the security lights. Watching the house.
She froze.
Before she could call out, the figure turned and disappeared into the darkness.
Her fingers shook as she grabbed her phone and called Sebastian.
He answered immediately. "Isabelle?"
"There's someone outside," she whispered.
His tone turned cold. "Stay where you are."
Moments later, alarms flickered through the mansion. Guards rushed across the property, flashlights sweeping the grounds.
But when they reached the edge of the woods there was no one.
Just footprints in the wet soil.
Sebastian stood beside her at the window, his expression unreadable.
"They're testing us," he said quietly. "And they just made their first mistake."
Isabelle shivered as he turned toward her, his eyes fierce with a promise that felt both comforting and terrifying.
Whatever war had started between them and Daniel it wasn't over.
But now, she finally understood something she hadn't before.
Sebastian wasn't the shadow she needed to fear.
He was the light fighting to keep her from disappearing into one.