Bianca didn't remember falling asleep. All she remembered was staring at her phone screen until dawn bled through the curtains, her own reflection haunting her from that live feed. By the time her alarm rang, she felt hollow, her body trembling with exhaustion and fear.

She went through the motions-shower, makeup, black coffee-but her thoughts never left the app. Whoever "Ares" was, he had seen her. He had a camera somewhere inside her apartment. He was closer than she had ever dared to imagine.

And yet... she hadn't told anyone. Not Dede, not the police, not a single soul. Something in her chest tightened at the thought of explaining it. They would call her paranoid. They would think she was exaggerating, or worse, losing her mind.

By the time she reached the café across the street from her office, her legs carried her out of habit rather than intention. She ordered her usual chamomile tea and sat by the window, her bag clutched close to her side as if it could shield her.

And that was when she saw him.

Across the room, leaning casually against the counter, stood a man who seemed to draw the attention of every person in the café. His hair was dark, a little tousled, his jaw sharp enough to look like it belonged on a magazine cover. But it wasn't his looks that froze her in place-it was his eyes.

They weren't just looking at the barista. They weren't idly scanning the room. They were fixed directly on her.

Bianca's throat went dry.

The man smirked, a small curve of his lips that felt both dangerous and oddly familiar. He collected his order, adjusted the sleeve of his shirt, and began walking-straight toward her.

Her heart hammered so loudly she was certain the entire café could hear it.

"Mind if I sit?" His voice was smooth, rich, carrying an easy confidence that made the words sound less like a question and more like a statement.

Bianca blinked, forcing her lips to part. "I-um-I don't think-"

He sat down anyway, setting his coffee on the table between them. "You looked like you could use some company."

Her pulse quickened. "Do I know you?"

His smirk deepened. "Not yet. But I think you should."

The words were simple, but they hit her like a thunderclap. Not yet. But you will.

The exact phrase Ares had used the first night.

Bianca's blood ran cold.

"Who are you?" she whispered, her voice trembling despite her attempt at calm.

The man leaned back, tilting his head. "Jace." He offered the name like a gift, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. "And you are Bianca."

Her stomach dropped.

"How-how do you know my name?" she demanded.

He shrugged casually, sipping his coffee. "You look like a Bianca. Was I wrong?"

It was too smooth. Too playful. The kind of answer meant to disarm. And maybe it would have-if she hadn't spent the last twenty-four hours living in fear of someone who knew everything about her.

She grabbed her bag, ready to bolt, but his hand shot out, resting lightly on the table. Not touching her, but close enough that she felt the tension radiating.

"Relax," he said softly, his smirk softening into something gentler. "I'm not a stalker. I'm just a guy who thought you looked interesting."

But Bianca's instincts screamed otherwise.

"Stay away from me," she snapped, standing so quickly her chair scraped against the floor. Every head in the café turned toward her, heat flooding her cheeks. She muttered an apology to no one in particular and hurried out the door, the sound of his quiet chuckle following her like smoke.

---

The rest of the day passed in a blur. She couldn't focus at work, couldn't laugh at Dede's jokes, couldn't think about anything except those piercing eyes and that smirk.

By the time she returned home that night, exhaustion weighed her down like chains. She locked her door twice, checked the windows again, and searched every corner of the apartment for hidden cameras. She found nothing.

But when she sat on the bed, her phone buzzed.

Her chest tightened as she unlocked it.

Ares: He's handsome, isn't he?

Bianca's breath caught.

Her fingers flew across the screen.

Bia_23: You were there. You saw him. Who IS he?

The reply came instantly.

Ares: He's not what he seems. Don't trust him.

She gritted her teeth, typing furiously.

Bia_23: And I'm supposed to trust you? The stranger who watches me through my own phone?

The screen flickered once, as though in response, before another message appeared.

Ares: I told you-I'll protect you. Even if you hate me for it.

Her hands shook so badly she dropped the phone onto the bed.

Tears burned in her eyes. She didn't know what was worse-the charming stranger who seemed to know her name without asking, or the invisible watcher who claimed to want her trust.

Both terrified her.

Both pulled her deeper into a web she couldn't escape.

---

The following evening, Dede insisted on dragging her out for drinks. "You need fresh air, a little fun. Stop moping around like some tragic heroine," she teased.

Bianca forced a laugh, letting herself be led into the crowded bar. Music pounded, glasses clinked, and the smell of whiskey and perfume filled the air. For a moment, she almost felt normal again.

Until she saw him.

Jace.

Leaning against the bar, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his lips curved into that same infuriating smirk. His gaze locked on her instantly, like he had known she'd be there.

Bianca froze in her tracks, her heart slamming against her ribs.

"Do you know him?" Dede whispered, following her gaze.

"I-I don't..." The lie stuck in her throat.

Before she could think, Jace pushed off the bar and walked toward them, the crowd parting like water around him.

"Bianca," he greeted smoothly, ignoring Dede entirely. "We meet again."

Her stomach twisted.

Dede raised an eyebrow, glancing between them. "Uh, excuse me, but who exactly are you?"

"Someone who's been dying to get to know your friend," Jace replied with a grin, his eyes never leaving Bianca.

Bianca's skin prickled. Every instinct screamed to run, but her legs refused to move. His presence was magnetic, overwhelming, pulling her in despite the alarm bells blaring in her head.

She opened her mouth to tell him off, to demand answers, but before a single word escaped, her phone buzzed in her purse.

She didn't even need to look. She knew.

The message glowed across the screen when she finally dared to pull it out.

Ares: I told you not to trust him. Leave. Now.

Her breath caught.

Jace's smirk deepened, as if he somehow knew what she'd just read. His gaze sharpened, amusement flickering into something darker.

And then he leaned closer, his voice low enough only she could hear.

"Careful, Bianca. Not every stranger who wants you is a danger..." He paused, his lips brushing dangerously close to her ear. "...but not every protector is your friend, either."

Bianca's entire body went rigid, her blood running cold.

Because at that moment, she realized one terrifying truth-Jace knew about Ares.

Bianca couldn't shake the chill that lingered long after the screen went dark. Jace's last message still pulsed across her phone like a forbidden echo: Some truths are better left untouched.

Her fingers trembled as she set the phone aside, but her mind refused to rest. Why did his words feel like a warning wrapped in charm? Why did his voice-even through typed letters-carry a weight that bent her chest into knots?

The air in her apartment felt heavy, pressing against her ribs. She tried to distract herself, pacing toward the kitchen, flicking the kettle on, staring at the rising steam. But her heart drummed with restless questions she didn't dare ask aloud.

The sound of her doorbell startled her. Bianca froze.

"Who-" She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Relax, it's just late."

She walked cautiously to the door, peeking through the peephole. Relief flooded her when she saw the familiar mop of curls and wide grin.

"Dede," she whispered, unlocking it quickly.

Her best friend slipped inside, holding up a takeout bag like a trophy. "Chicken noodles. And don't ask me how I knew you'd need emergency carbs tonight. It's a gift."

Bianca laughed, but the sound was thin, brittle. "You're psychic, that's what you are."

Dede's smile softened as she studied Bianca's tired eyes. "Psychic and hungry. But also your unofficial therapist. So-spill. What's keeping you up this time?"

Bianca hesitated, chewing her lip as they settled on the couch. She wanted to dismiss it, to laugh it off, but the weight on her chest demanded release. "It's Jace."

Dede raised her brows. "The online guy? Mister Charming-with-a-keyboard?"

"Yes," Bianca whispered. Her fingers twisted the corner of a cushion. "He's... different, Dede. When we talk, it feels like he sees straight through me. But tonight... his words... they weren't just flirtation. They felt like-like a shadow behind the light."

Dede slurped noodles straight from the box, unimpressed. "Girl, shadows are only scary if you turn off the lamp. You don't know him. He's probably just being dramatic to keep you hooked."

Bianca wished she could believe that. "Maybe. But it didn't feel like a game."

Dede leaned closer, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. "Listen, B. Men like him-especially the attractive, smooth-talking ones-they thrive on mystery. It's their way of staying in control. But here's the twist: you don't have to give them that power. Keep your guard."

Her words made sense, but Bianca's heart rebelled. She wanted to keep her guard, yet she felt herself slipping past it every time Jace typed her name like it was poetry.

The phone buzzed. Both women jumped.

Dede shot her a look. "That better not be him."

Bianca swallowed, lifting the phone. The screen flashed with a new message. Her pulse spiked.

It was him.

"Couldn't sleep, Bianca? Or are you thinking of me too much?"

Her breath hitched. The timing was uncanny, almost as if he had been listening.

Dede leaned over her shoulder, reading aloud. "Okay, creepy coincidence alert. How did he know you're awake?"

"I... don't know," Bianca whispered. The room felt colder, smaller.

Another message arrived, quick and precise: "Your light's on."

Bianca's blood ran cold. She snapped her head toward the window, her curtains drawn halfway. The street outside was quiet, but the possibility that he was close, that he could see her, turned her stomach to stone.

Dede grabbed her arm. "Don't you dare freak out alone. If he's nearby, we call security. Or the police."

Bianca shook her head, heart racing. "No, maybe-it could be coincidence. Maybe he just guessed. People always say things like that online."

But her voice betrayed her disbelief.

Her phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't words. It was a picture.

Her own apartment window. Taken from the street below.

Dede gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Oh my God. He's here."

Bianca's heart slammed so hard she thought it might crack her ribs. She stumbled back, clutching the phone like it burned. "This-this can't be real."

"Block him. Now," Dede urged, her voice trembling.

But before Bianca could move, another message followed the picture: "Don't be afraid. Some stories are meant to begin this way."

Bianca's knees weakened. She gripped the armrest, trying to steady herself as panic clawed up her throat.

Dede snatched the phone from her, typing furiously: "Leave her alone. Don't ever contact Bianca again." She hit send, her fingers shaking.

The reply was instant. "Hello, Dede. Nice to finally meet you too."

Both women froze.

Bianca's mind spun. How did he know her name? She had never mentioned Dede in their chats.

Dede's lips parted in disbelief. "He-he knows me? Bianca, this isn't just some random flirtation. He's... he's been watching you."

Bianca's pulse hammered. Fear tangled with something else, something she hated herself for feeling-curiosity. Because beneath the dread was a pull she couldn't deny. Who was Jace really? And why did his words, even laced with danger, still feel like silk against her skin?

The phone buzzed again. A final message glowed across the screen: "Sleep well tonight, Bianca. Tomorrow, we'll stop hiding."

The room spun with silence, broken only by the shallow rhythm of their breaths.

Dede clutched Bianca's hand tightly. "We need to tell someone. Now."

Bianca nodded, but her eyes lingered on the glowing words, her heart a battlefield of terror and longing. For the first time, she wasn't sure if she wanted to run away from Jace... or run straight into the storm he promised.

And as the lights outside flickered, Bianca swore she saw a shadow move beneath her window.

The night felt endless. Bianca sat curled on the couch, staring at the curtains as if shadows themselves could leap inside. Every sound-the hum of the fridge, the distant bark of a dog, the faint whisper of cars passing by-felt amplified.

Dede refused to leave her side. She kept scrolling on her phone, muttering, "We should report this. Right now. I don't care how charming this guy was online-this isn't normal, Bianca. He knows too much."

Bianca wanted to agree. Her body screamed danger, every nerve burning. But her heart-traitorous, reckless-kept whispering another truth.

What if he's not just a stranger? What if there's a reason he feels so familiar?

She hated herself for it. Fear and longing churned in her stomach like poison.

The phone buzzed again. Bianca jolted, breath catching.

This time, no picture. No playful words. Just a simple, chilling line:

"Look outside."

Dede lunged forward. "Don't you dare."

But Bianca's feet moved on their own. Drawn by an invisible thread, she edged toward the window. Her hand hesitated on the curtain. Her pulse thundered in her ears.

With one swift pull, the fabric slid aside.

And there he was.

A lone figure stood across the street, bathed in the yellow glow of the streetlamp. Tall, broad-shouldered, still. His face was hidden in the shadows, but Bianca knew-it had to be him. Jace.

Her breath shuddered out of her.

Dede cursed under her breath. "Oh hell no. I'm calling the police."

Bianca grabbed her arm. "Wait."

"Wait? Bianca, he's standing there like some stalker from a horror movie! What else do you need?"

But Bianca's eyes stayed locked on the figure. He wasn't moving. He wasn't threatening. Just watching. Waiting.

As if he wanted her to come to him.

The phone buzzed again. "Don't be afraid. I came to prove I'm real."

Bianca's hand trembled as she held the phone. "He... he came for me."

"Came for you?!" Dede's voice cracked in disbelief. "Girl, wake up! That's not romance-that's obsession."

Yet Bianca couldn't pull her gaze away. For months, Jace had only been words on a screen, a voice in her head, a mystery she could never touch. And now-he was flesh, bone, shadow, reality.

Her heart betrayed her again. She wanted to see his face.

Dede paced, grabbing her jacket. "Fine. If you won't protect yourself, I'll drag you to safety."

But before she could pull Bianca away, the phone chimed once more. "One minute, Bianca. Step outside. Alone. Or I'll disappear forever."

Her chest constricted. Forever. The word sliced through her fear like a blade.

"Don't," Dede begged, clutching her hand. "He's manipulating you. This is how people end up on the news."

Bianca swallowed hard, torn between reason and a pull she couldn't explain. Every instinct said danger, yet her heart whispered: If you don't see him now, you'll regret it for the rest of your life.

She slipped her hand from Dede's grip. "I just need to know, Dede. I have to see him."

Dede's eyes filled with panic. "Then I'm coming with you."

But when Bianca glanced back at her phone, a final line glowed on the screen: "Alone, Bianca. Or it ends tonight."

Her blood froze.

Slowly, with her heart in her throat, she stepped toward the door. Dede's protests followed, but Bianca's body moved as if under a spell. The world outside called to her, dangerous and irresistible.

She opened the door. The night air rushed in, cool and sharp, smelling faintly of rain and asphalt.

Each step down the stairs echoed like a drumbeat.

Across the street, the figure hadn't moved. He stood with his hands in his pockets, watching her, waiting.

Her pulse raced as she reached the edge of the curb. The street stretched between them like a line she wasn't sure she wanted to cross.

"Jace?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

The figure shifted. Slowly, he stepped forward, into the dim light.

Her breath caught.

Even half-hidden by shadow, he was breathtaking-sharp jawline, dark tousled hair, eyes that gleamed with something between danger and desire. The kind of man who could ruin you with a smile.

He was real. Too real.

"You came," he said softly, his voice exactly as she imagined-smooth, deep, a melody wrapped in mystery.

Bianca's heart stuttered. "Why? Why are you here?"

"To show you I'm not just words." His lips curved into a half-smile. "To remind you that some stories are meant to be lived, not typed."

Every rational thought screamed to run. But the world around her seemed to fade-the quiet street, the glow of lamps, even Dede's worried figure at the window. All that existed was him.

Jace.

He extended a hand. "Come closer."

Bianca hesitated, her breath shaking.

Before she could decide, Dede's voice rang from the doorway. "Bianca! Get back inside!"

Jace's eyes darkened. His smile lingered, but there was steel beneath it. "You shouldn't let other people write your story, Bianca. Only you can choose."

Her chest tightened. Torn in two directions, her heart pulled toward him even as her mind screamed to run.

For one suspended moment, the night held its breath.

Then headlights flared from down the street, a car speeding closer, its horn blaring.

Bianca gasped, stumbling back.

The car swerved, screeching to a halt inches from Jace.

And just like that-he was gone.

The headlights dimmed, the street empty.

No Jace. No shadow. Nothing.

Bianca's body shook violently as Dede rushed to her side, grabbing her arm. "I told you! I told you he's dangerous! Bianca, he's playing with you."

But Bianca's eyes darted around the empty street, her heart clawing against her ribs. He had been there. She had felt him. Heard him. Seen his eyes.

And now he'd vanished into the night like a phantom.

Her phone buzzed one last time. With trembling hands, she lifted it.

"Next time, Bianca, you'll follow me into the dark."

Her breath caught, terror and desire twisting inside her until she could hardly stand.

She had wanted proof Jace was real. Now she had it. And she knew, deep in her soul-this was only the beginning.