Scarlett's POV
I'm standing on a Manhattan sidewalk, staring at my phone, watching my entire world collapse.
The stalker is the Courtship Killer.
And I just gave him Julian's name.
My hands shake so badly I can barely grip my phone. People rush past me on the busy street, but I'm frozen. Twenty-four hours. That's all I have to cancel my date with Julian, or the killer will come after him.
But if I cancel, he'll just find someone else. Some other innocent person to hurt because of me.
I need to think. I need to—
My phone rings. Julian's name flashes on the screen.
I stare at it, paralyzed. Should I answer? Warn him? Tell him a serial killer is targeting him because of me?
The call goes to voicemail.
Seconds later, a text: Hey, I know we just met, but I can't stop thinking about our conversation. Dinner Friday night? I know a great Italian place.
Tears burn my eyes. He seems so nice. So normal. And I'm about to destroy his life.
Or worse—end it.
I force myself to walk. One foot in front of the other. I need to get home. I need to figure out what to do.
But when I round the corner toward the subway, someone grabs my arm.
I scream and spin around, ready to fight.
It's just an old woman, looking confused. "Sorry, dear. I thought you were my granddaughter."
"It's fine," I gasp, heart racing. "Sorry."
Everyone is a threat now. Every shadow, every stranger, every unexpected touch.
This is what he wants. He wants me terrified. Isolated. Alone.
Well, I'm not giving him that satisfaction.
I delete the stalker's texts—I already took screenshots for the police—and text Julian back: Friday sounds perfect.
If the killer wants to play games, fine. But I won't let him control my life. I'll go on this date. I'll be careful. And somehow, I'll figure out how to stop him.
I have to.
Three days later, I'm wiping down tables at The Grind, trying to focus on my new job instead of the constant fear buzzing in my brain.
The work is simple but exhausting. Make coffee. Smile at customers. Clean up messes. Repeat. But my coworkers are friendly, and Paula—my manager—is fair. It's the most normal thing in my life right now.
"Earth to Scarlett." My coworker Maya waves a hand in front of my face. She's twenty-two, art student, covered in tattoos. "You've been staring at that table for five minutes."
"Sorry. Didn't sleep well."
"Boy trouble?" She grins.
If only it were that simple. "Something like that."
"Well, wake up, because your boy trouble just walked in."
I look up. Julian is standing at the entrance, scanning the room. When he spots me, his whole face lights up.
My heart does a weird flip—half excitement, half terror.
He walks over, looking effortlessly handsome in jeans and a button-down shirt. "Hey. I was in the neighborhood."
"This is the third time you've been 'in the neighborhood' this week," I say, trying to sound playful instead of paranoid. "Are you stalking me?"
The word "stalking" tastes like poison in my mouth.
Julian laughs. "Guilty. I really like their coffee here."
"Liar. You haven't ordered coffee once."
"Okay, you got me." He leans against the counter. "I came to see you. Is that creepy? That might be creepy."
"It's a little creepy," I admit. But also sweet. And exactly what I need after days of actual stalking.
"I can leave—"
"Don't." The word comes out too fast. "I'm due for a break anyway."
Maya practically shoves me toward the door. "Go. I've got the counter."
Julian and I sit at a table outside. The autumn air is cool, and the city hums around us.
"So," he says. "Still on for Friday?"
"Absolutely."
"Good." He studies my face. "You seem... tense. Everything okay?"
I want to tell him. Want to warn him. But how do I explain that a serial killer is threatening to murder him if I don't stay away? He'd think I'm insane.
"Just life stuff," I say instead. "New job, money problems, family drama. The usual."
"Family drama, huh? Want to talk about it?"
I shake my head. "Not really. It's complicated."
"Fair enough." He doesn't push, which I appreciate. "So Friday. Should I pick you up, or—"
"Let's meet there," I say quickly. Too quickly.
Julian's eyebrows raise slightly. "Okay. Should I be worried you're planning to stand me up?"
"No! I just..." Think, Scarlett. "I'm staying with a friend right now. It's complicated. Meeting is easier."
It's not entirely a lie. I did move in with Zara yesterday after she insisted I couldn't stay alone in my apartment with a stalker watching.
"No problem." Julian smiles, but something in his eyes looks uncertain. Like he's worried I'm losing interest.
God, if he only knew.
We talk for fifteen more minutes. He tells me about growing up in Boston, about his love of art galleries, about wanting to travel more. He's smart, funny, and seems genuinely interested in getting to know me.
For a few minutes, I forget about the killer. Forget about the texts. Forget about everything except this nice man who makes me laugh.
When my break ends, Julian stands. "I should let you get back to work."
"Thanks for stopping by."
"Anytime." He hesitates, then says, "Scarlett? I know we just met. But I have a really good feeling about you. About this. I don't want to scare you off, but... I really like you."
My throat tightens. "I really like you too."
He walks away smiling, and I watch him go with my heart in my throat.
I can't let the killer hurt him. I won't.
That night, Zara's apartment is chaos.
"Try this one." She throws a dress at me. "No, wait. Too formal. This one!"
"Zara, it's just dinner."
"Just dinner? Scarlett Hayes, you haven't been on a date since Marcus-the-Jerk destroyed your life. This is a big deal."
She's right. It is a big deal. For multiple reasons she doesn't know about.
I told Zara about the stalker texts and the jewelry box. She wanted to go to the police again, but I convinced her it wouldn't help. What I didn't tell her was that the stalker is the serial killer. Or that Julian might die because of me.
Some truths are too dangerous to share.
"What if this is a mistake?" I say quietly, sitting on her bed. "What if I'm not ready?"
Zara sits beside me, her expression softening. "You've been hurt. Bad. By people who should've protected you. It makes sense you're scared."
"I'm terrified," I admit.
"But you can't let fear win. You deserve to be happy, Scarlett. You deserve someone who sees how amazing you are."
"What if he's too good to be true?"
"Then you'll find out. But at least you tried." She squeezes my hand. "You're stronger than you think. You survived your family's betrayal. Your ex leaving you. Getting fired. Being stalked. You're still standing. That's not weakness. That's power."
Her words make me emotional. "When did you get so wise?"
"Law school." She grins. "Now try on the black dress."
By the time I'm ready, I actually feel hopeful. The dress fits perfectly. My hair cooperates. My makeup hides the dark circles under my eyes.
For the first time in months, I look like the old Scarlett. The one who believed in happy endings.
"You look gorgeous," Zara says.
"Thanks for everything. For letting me stay here. For not giving up on me."
"Never." She hugs me tight. "Now go have fun. Text me every hour so I know you're alive."
I promise I will.
As I grab my purse, my phone buzzes.
A text from Julian: Can't wait to see you. This is going to be great.
My stomach flutters with excitement and dread.
Then another text. Unknown number.
My blood runs cold.
"You're making a mistake, Scarlett. I warned you. I gave you a chance. Now Julian Cross will pay the price. Check the news in exactly one hour. You'll see what happens to men who try to take what's mine."
No. No, no, no.
I try calling Julian. It goes straight to voicemail.
I text him: Where are you? Are you okay?
No response.
Another text from the stalker: "He can't answer. He's a little... tied up at the moment. One hour, Scarlett. Then everyone will know what you made me do."
I'm going to be sick.
"Scarlett?" Zara looks at my face. "What's wrong?"
I can barely breathe. "I have to go. I have to find him."
"Find who? Julian?"
"He's in trouble. The stalker—he has him. I think he's going to kill him."
Zara grabs my shoulders. "We're calling the police. Right now."
But before I can respond, my phone rings.
It's not Julian.
It's not the stalker.
It's a number I don't recognize.
I answer with shaking hands. "Hello?"
A man's voice, deep and authoritative: "Is this Scarlett Hayes?"
"Yes. Who is this?"
"Special Agent Dante Russo, FBI. I need you to stay exactly where you are. Don't go to your date. Don't contact Julian Cross. And whatever you do, don't leave that apartment."
"What? Why? Is Julian okay?"
"Julian Cross is a person of interest in the Courtship Killer investigation. We believe he may be dangerous."
The world tilts.
"That's impossible," I whisper.
"Miss Hayes, I know this is shocking, but we have evidence linking him to the crime scenes. I'm sending officers to your location now for your protection."
My mind races. Julian is the killer? But the stalker said he'd hurt Julian. Unless...
Unless the stalker was lying.
Unless Julian IS the stalker.
Unless I've been falling for a serial killer this entire time.
"Miss Hayes? Are you still there?"
I drop the phone.
Because I just remembered something.
The bracelet. The one with "until death do us part" engraved inside.
I saw Julian wearing a bracelet exactly like it.
On our very first day.
When I spilled coffee on him.