Luca Ivanov had never known real fear.

Not the kind that gripped your lungs and squeezed until you forgot how to breathe. Not the kind that made your skin crawl, that made every shadow in the room feel like it was watching you.

But tonight, as he sat on the edge of his bed, the black box still lying open on his desk, fear had wrapped itself around his throat and refused to let go.

Try to run, sweetheart. It excites me.

The words replayed in his mind over and over, seeping into his bones.

He didn’t know who had sent it.

He didn’t know how they had found him.

But the weight of the single black leather glove lying in that box was enough to tell him one thing—this wasn’t a prank.

Luca’s hands trembled as he grabbed his phone, barely able to type as he pulled up his sister’s number.

Valarie.

She would know what to do. She always did.

But just as he was about to press call, a cold realization slithered down his spine.

What if they were watching right now?

His fingers froze over the screen.

His apartment was silent, but it didn’t feel empty.

It felt wrong.

Like someone was already inside.

Luca’s pulse hammered. He swallowed, forcing himself to think.

Calm down. Breathe.

The door was locked. The windows were shut. No one was here.

Right?

A sudden, quiet creak came from the hallway.

Luca’s entire body locked up.

He wasn’t alone.

---

Damien watched.

He had expected fear, but this?

This was delicious.

From the comfort of his Maybach, parked in the shadows across the street, he observed Luca’s every reaction.

The way his hands shook as he picked up the box. The way his lips parted in silent panic. The way his breath hitched as he read the note—again and again, trying to make sense of something that was already inevitable.

Luca was adorable in his terror.

Damien’s gloved fingers tapped against his knee, slow and methodical.

You’re thinking about calling for help, aren’t you?

He could almost hear the boy’s frantic thoughts, see the conflict in those big, frightened eyes.

Would he call the police?

Would he run to his sister?

Would he try to hide?

Damien’s smirk deepened. It wouldn’t matter.

No one could save Luca from him.

His men were already in place, stationed outside the boy’s apartment, watching his every move.

If Luca stepped outside, Damien would know.

If he tried to run, he would be found.

And if he went to his sister?

Well.

That would only make things more interesting.

Damien leaned back against the leather seat, exhaling slowly. The need inside him was growing—hot, sharp, insatiable.

He had taken cities, armies, men who thought they were untouchable—but Luca was different.

Luca wasn’t an empire to conquer.

He was something softer.

Something to be broken slowly.

And Damien?

He wanted to hear him beg.

---

Luca’s Apartment – 1:03 AM

Luca’s hand hovered over his bedroom doorknob, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

He hadn’t imagined it.

He had heard something.

The logical part of his brain screamed at him to call the police, to do something—anything—but his fear was louder.

Because if someone was inside, if they were already here, then making a sound might be the last mistake he ever made.

Slowly, painfully, he took a step back.

Then another.

His heel bumped against his nightstand, making a small noise—

A whisper of movement came from the hallway.

Luca snapped.

He lunged for his closet, heart slamming into his ribs as he shoved himself inside, pressing his back against the wall. His fingers curled into fists, his body frozen as he tried to control his breathing.

The apartment was silent again.

Too silent.

Seconds passed.

Then, he heard it.

Soft, deliberate footsteps.

Someone was inside.

Someone was in his home.

Luca clamped a hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut.

This isn’t happening. This isn’t real.

But it was.

Because the footsteps were getting closer.

And then—

They stopped.

Right in front of his bedroom door.

Luca’s lungs burned as he held his breath, his entire body trembling.

The doorknob twisted.

He bit down on his lip to keep from making a sound.

The door didn’t open.

But whoever was on the other side?

They knew he was here.

Luca’s chest heaved silently, panic clawing at his throat.

Then, after what felt like a lifetime, the door creaked open an inch.

Just enough for something to be slipped inside.

A folded piece of paper.

The door clicked shut again.

The footsteps retreated.

And then—nothing.

Silence.

Luca didn’t move for a long time.

When he finally did, his entire body was shaking violently.

He forced himself to reach for the note, his fingers stiff and cold as he unfolded it with trembling hands.

Four words.

Four, handwritten words that made his vision blur with terror.

"You're not alone, sweetheart."

Luca’s stomach dropped.

He shoved a fist against his mouth, muffling the strangled sound that threatened to escape.

Whoever had sent the gifts…

Whoever had been watching him…

They weren’t just a threat from afar.

They were here.

Inside his home.

Inside his life.

Inside his world.

And Luca had no way out.

---

Outside, Damien smiled.

Tonight was fun.

But the real game?

It was just beginning.

---

End of Chapter