The Midnight Letter

Emily's POV

After everything, after the fight, the blood, and the way he looked at me like he had never let me go—I should have told him to leave.

Instead, I invited him in.

Alexander stood in the doorway of my apartment, his presence far too big for the small space. His busted lip was already swelling, a thin trail of blood running down his chin. His knuckles were torn, bruised, evidence of the violence I had just witnessed.

I swallowed hard and turned away. Don't think about it. Don't let it get to you.

"You should sit," I muttered, already heading to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit.

"Worried about me, Kotenok?" His voice was rough, teasing—but there was something darker underneath.

I ignored him. When I returned, he had settled onto my couch, watching me with that unreadable gaze. I knelt in front of him, dabbing at his split lip with a cotton pad. He didn't flinch, didn't even blink.

"You're reckless," I said quietly.

"And yet, I'm still here."

My fingers hesitated for a fraction of a second before I continued. The room felt too quiet, the air too thick. Being this close to him after everything—after the pain, the chains, the scars he left—was dangerous.

"I saw you fight," I admitted.

He smirked. "I know."

Of course he did. He always knew when I was near.

I finished cleaning his wounds, my hands steady even as my heart wasn't. When I finally stood, putting distance between us, he leaned back against the couch like he owned the place.

"Why did you come tonight?" I asked.

His eyes darkened. "To see you."

That wasn’t an answer. But I didn’t push. I was too tired, too drained.

"You should go," I whispered.

For a second, I thought he might refuse. But then he stood, stepping closer, his fingers trailing along my wrist for just a second before pulling away.

"I’ll see you soon, Emily."

And just like that, he was gone.

I exhaled, pressing my fingers against my temple. I needed sleep. I needed to forget—at least for one night.

But then, barely an hour later, a soft shuffling sound outside my door made my blood run cold.

When I opened it, there was no one there.

Just a single black envelope on the floor.

I picked it up with shaking hands, breaking the wax seal. Inside was a small slip of paper, the message scrawled in sharp, precise handwriting:

"If you want the truth, come alone. 11 PM. The abandoned chapel."

Every instinct screamed at me to throw it away. To ignore it. To pretend I never saw it.

But I couldn't.

Because the truth had been dangled in front of me for far too long, just out of reach, locked behind Alexander’s silence and the world he refused to let me see.

I checked the time. 10:42 PM.

I had twenty minutes to decide whether I was stupid enough to go.

I left.

Not because it was smart. Not because I wasn’t afraid.

But because I needed to know.

The streets were quiet, the air thick with an eerie stillness. Every footstep felt too loud, every shadow stretched too long. I kept my hood up, hands shoved into my jacket pockets, head down. If Alexander had eyes on me, this was suicide.

The chapel was on the outskirts of the city, a forgotten relic from another time. The doors were slightly ajar, as if someone had been expecting me.

The chapel was dead silent. Even my own breathing felt too loud.

A figure stood near the altar, shrouded in a long dark coat, his hood casting a deep shadow over his face. The dim moonlight from the broken stained-glass windows barely reached him, making it impossible to see any defining features.

"You actually came," he murmured. His voice was low, rough—distorted, almost, like there was something unnatural about the way it sounded.

Something in my gut twisted. Turn around. Leave. Now.

But I didn't.

Instead, I forced my voice to stay steady. "Who are you?"

A slow, deliberate pause. Then—

"I go by many names."

The way he said it sent a cold shiver down my spine.

I clenched my fists. "Then give me one."

A chuckle, quiet and unsettling. "Names have power, Emily. And power is something you don’t have."

I swallowed. "You know my name."

"I know a lot of things." His head tilted slightly. "I know what you are. What he’s made you. What you could become."

My breath hitched. "What the hell does that mean?"

He took a step forward, his boots clicking against the cracked stone floor. I instinctively stepped back, but he didn’t close the distance further.

"You want the truth, don’t you?" His voice was softer now, almost mocking. "That’s why you’re here. Because deep down, you know something is wrong."

I didn’t answer.

He exhaled, like he was almost disappointed. "Tell me, Emily... do you ever wonder why he won’t let you go?"

I felt my pulse in my throat. "Because he’s obsessive and insane?"

He laughed—low, slow, and utterly devoid of warmth.

"No," he murmured. "It’s so much worse than that."

The cold in the room felt sharper now, pressing against my skin.

He leaned in slightly. "Did he tell you what happened to the others?"

I froze. "What others?"

He stilled, as if studying me. "The ones who came before you."

A chill slithered down my spine.

"You’re lying," I whispered.

"Am I?" He took another slow step forward. "Then tell me, Emily... where are they?"

I opened my mouth, but no words came. Because I had never once thought about it. Never questioned if there had been someone before me.

But of course there had been.

And if Alexander had loved someone before—where were they now?

The hooded figure tilted his head. "You think you’re the first?"

I could feel my heartbeat in my fingertips. "If you know something, say it."

His breath ghosted through the air between us.

"I just did."

I took a shaky step back, my instincts screaming at me to leave. To run.

He let out a soft, almost amused sigh. "You’re not ready."

Then, before I could react, the candle behind the altar snuffed out.

The room plunged into complete darkness.

My pulse thundered in my ears. Shit—

I turned to bolt for the door—

But when I looked back—

He was gone.

My hands were still shaking when I reached my apartment. My thoughts swirled with everything that hooded man had said—the others before me, the way they vanished, the fact that I might not be the first.

I needed time to process. I needed to breathe.

But the second I stepped onto my doorstep, I felt it.

That heavy, suffocating presence.

My stomach dropped.

Alexander was waiting.

He leaned against my doorframe, dressed in black, his hands shoved into his coat pockets. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—icy and sharp under the dim hallway light—burned with something I didn’t want to name.

My breath caught.

"How was your little night walk, Kotenok?" His voice was deceptively calm. Controlled.

Too controlled.

I swallowed. "Alex-"

"Where were you?"

His words were quiet, but there was no mistaking the edge beneath them.

My fingers curled into my jacket. Think. Lie. Say anything-

"I just-"

"Don't," he cut me off, stepping closer. "I already know you left. I want to know why."

I pressed my back against the door, my pulse hammering. "I couldn't sleep."

He huffed out something that might've been a laugh if it weren't laced with pure venom. "So you decided to take a midnight stroll? Alone?" His head tilted slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. "Try again."

My chest tightened. "I don't owe you an explanation."

Wrong thing to say.

Alex's jaw ticked, and in the next second, he was crowding into my space, one hand flat against the door beside my head. Not touching me-but close enough that I felt the heat radiating off him.

"Who was it?" he murmured.

I blinked. "What?"

His eyes darkened. "Who did you meet?"

Panic curled in my stomach. He knew. Maybe not everything, but enough to be dangerous.

"I didn't meet anyone," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady.

A sharp exhale. Then-

Alexander leaned in, so close that his lips brushed against my ear. His voice was low, dangerous.

"Lie to me again, and I promise you, I'll find out myself."

I sucked in a breath, my heart slamming against my ribs.

His fingers trailed down the side of my face-gentle, almost soft. But then, just as quickly, his hand dropped, and he stepped back.

"Inside. Now."

It wasn't a request.

I hesitated, and for a moment, I swore I saw something flicker in his expression-something raw. But it vanished before I could name it.

He opened the door for me, waiting.

I knew if I went inside, I wouldn't be getting out of this conversation anytime soon.

But I also knew one thing for certain.

Alexander wasn't going to let this go.

Emily really thought she could sneak out? Girl, Alex was practically waiting with a GPS tracker, night vision goggles, and a "How to Catch a Runaway Kitten" handbook.

And let's talk about that hooded figure... creepy much? Mysterious stranger in an abandoned chapel at night? Yeah, totally a safe life choice. Emily, babe, ever heard of stranger danger?

Also, what happened to the others before her? Are we talking exes... or something worse? (Cue horror movie music).

Anyway, be honest-would you have gone to that meeting or stayed in bed, binge-watching shows like a normal person? (No judgment... but also, judgment).

See you next chapter! ♡