Chapter 11:Marked
1019 Words
Valen’s words still echoed as the car carried me away:
“The one man who will burn the world to keep you breathing.”
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe I was safe.
But later that night, a box the color of midnight arrived at my door.
Inside, nestled against black velvet, was a necklace.
No card. No note.
Just a single message on the black phone:
“Wear it.”
I almost laughed when I opened it, not out of joy, but nerves. It looked expensive,heavy. The chain was silver, cool and smooth between my fingers, holding a small pendant in the shape of a teardrop,deep emerald green,rimmed in something darker,shinier.
I should’ve been suspicious.
But when you're already neck-deep in secrets, what’s one more?
I wore it that same night. Let it rest against my collarbone as I walked around the apartment,pretending I wasn’t waiting for a call or another instruction. Pretending I wasn’t already craving the next move he’d make.
Nothing came.
But the next morning, the black phone buzzed:
“Nice choice.”
He was watching.
I started seeing things.
Not in the ghostly sense, but in the he’s here somewhere kind of way. A black car parked outside my building too long. A man in sunglasses near my office who didn’t make a move but was always there. At the café,at the corner store,at the dry cleaner’s.
Once, I tested it,took a different street, walked into a bookstore I’d never visited, and pretended to browse for thirty minutes. When I emerged, the car was parked across the road.
I wasn’t paranoid.
I was being watched.
And still, I wore the necklace. I never took it off.
By the third day, I noticed it. Not just the eyes on me, but the fact that my locations and even my thoughts weren’t as private as I thought.
He texted me:
“Why didn’t you eat today?”
I nearly dropped the phone.
I’d already skipped lunch, sure. But how the hell did he know?
Another message:
“Take care of yourself, Elara. You’re no use to me dead.”
I wanted to scream,Cry,throw the phone out the window.
Instead, I replied.
“Are you tracking me?”
No answer.
I tried again.
“Is it the necklace?”
Silence.
Then finally, four words.
“You’re learning. Good girl.”
My stomach turned.
Not because I was scared,but because a part of me liked it.
The control.
The fact that someone was watching. Caring, in a twisted, obsessive, completely unhinged way.
Was I broken?
I searched the necklace that night.
Locked myself in the bathroom, took it off, and examined every inch. The clasp, the chain links, the underside of the pendant. Finally, I spotted it a tiny, pinhole-sized bump behind the stone. I wouldn’t have noticed it without a magnifying mirror.
I ran to my laptop, typed in “How to find tracking devices in jewelry” and sure enough, what I wore was more than just a gift.
It was a leash.
I stared at it in my palm, pulse thudding in my ears.
I could’ve smashed it. Flushed it. Left it somewhere random just to throw him off.
But I didn’t.
I slipped it back around my neck, fastened the clasp, and stared at myself in the mirror.
There she was the girl who’d once cried over a man named Liam. Who’d once believed love was soft and safe. Who’d once thought heartbreak was the worst thing that could happen.
That girl was gone.
The next night, he showed up again.
I didn’t know where he came from. One minute I was walking out of work. The next, he was beside me, opening the door of a sleek black car like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Get in,” he said.
I hesitated.
“You already let me into your life, Elara. Why hesitate now?”
I slid into the passenger seat.
He didn’t speak for a long time. Just drove fast, confident, familiar with every turn of the road.
“You found the tracker,” he said eventually.
“I did.”
“And yet you’re still wearing it.”
“Why give it to me?”
He looked at me. His eyes were darker than I remembered, or maybe it was just the city lights blinking past.
“Because I need to know where you are,” he said. “In this game, information is safety. And right now… you don’t have either.”
My voice cracked. “So I’m a pawn?”
“No,” he said. “You’re the queen. You just don’t know it yet.”
He took me to a penthouse. Not his actually,this one was clearly meant for temporary visits.
It was filled with minimal furniture,Stark design,a city view so wide it made me dizzy.
He poured two glasses of something dark and expensive, handed me one.
“You’re angry,” he said.
“I’m tired.”
“Of?”
“Being lied to,used and followed.”i said.
He took a sip. “You were lied to by people who pretended to love you. I’m not pretending.”
“You think that’s better?”
“It’s honest.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
The silence stretched, heavy and thick, until he walked over to me slow, controlled and stopped just inches away.
“I gave you that necklace so I could protect you. Not to trap you.”
“You didn’t give me a choice.”
He reached out, gently brushed the chain at my neck. I tensed.
“Choices are luxuries people like us don’t always get,” he whispered.
I looked up at him, every nerve on fire. “Then what do I get?”
His voice dropped lower. “Me.”
That night, I didn’t sleep.
Back in my apartment, the necklace burned cold against my skin, the black phone beside my pillow.
I thought the night was over until the screen lit up again.
One new message.
“Prove it.”
- Writer
