Chapter Ten - The Stranger Who Watches
2690 Words
The nightmare returned.
Elena was standing at the altar again.
The church was silent, except for the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. White roses lined both sides of the aisle, their sweet fragrance hanging heavily in the air. The guests sat motionless, their faces blurred as though hidden behind a veil of mist.
She couldn't move.
Her feet felt rooted to the marble floor.
The priest smiled at her.
"Do you take—"
A loud bang echoed through the church.
The stained-glass windows shattered.
Someone screamed.
The priest slowly raised his head, and when he smiled again...
...it wasn't the same man.
His eyes were unfamiliar.
Cold.
Patient.
As if he had been waiting for this exact moment.
"I've finally found you," he whispered.
Elena gasped awake.
Her breathing came in short, uneven bursts as she pushed herself upright. The room was dark except for the faint glow of the digital clock on her bedside table.
2:17 a.m.
She wiped the sweat from her forehead.
"Just a dream," she whispered.
But it didn't feel like one.
The man's face...
She couldn't remember it.
No matter how hard she tried, it faded every single time.
Only his voice remained.
"I've finally found you."
A knock at her door made her jump.
Her heart nearly stopped.
Another knock followed.
Slow.
Measured.
Elena glanced toward the entrance of her apartment.
Who would visit at this hour?
She climbed out of bed quietly and reached for the baseball bat Noah had insisted she keep after the anonymous messages began.
The knocking stopped.
Silence.
She tiptoed toward the door and looked through the peephole.
No one.
The hallway was empty.
Her pulse raced.
She unlocked the door just enough to peek outside.
Still no one.
Only a small white envelope lay neatly on the doormat.
Her stomach twisted.
She picked it up and hurried back inside before locking the door again.
There was no name.
No address.
Nothing.
With trembling fingers, she opened it.
Inside was a single photograph.
It had been taken from across the street while she was laughing outside Noah's café a week earlier.
She had no memory of anyone taking it.
Written on the back were four words.
You smile too freely.
Elena's blood ran cold.
The next morning, she barely touched her breakfast.
Noah noticed immediately.
"You've been staring at that toast for five minutes."
"I'm not hungry."
He frowned.
"You never skip breakfast."
"I'm just tired."
"You're lying."
Elena sighed.
"You always know."
"I've had years of practice."
She managed a small smile before reaching into her handbag.
"I found this outside my apartment."
She handed him the photograph.
The smile disappeared from Noah's face.
He turned it over slowly.
His jaw tightened.
"When did you get this?"
"Last night."
"And you didn't call me?"
"I didn't want to worry you."
"You think this doesn't worry me?"
She looked down.
"I'm sorry."
Noah remained silent for several seconds.
Finally, he slid the photograph back across the table.
"This isn't someone trying to scare you."
"What do you mean?"
"They already know your routine."
Elena looked up.
"They know where you work."
She nodded.
"They know where you live."
Another nod.
"They've been close enough to photograph you without you noticing."
The realization settled between them.
Neither of them spoke.
Noah reached across the table and covered her hand with his.
"We're going to the police."
Elena hesitated.
"And tell them what?"
"Everything."
She shook her head.
"They'll ask who would do something like this."
"And?"
"I don't know."
Noah leaned back in frustration.
"This is getting out of hand."
Before Elena could respond, the bell above the café door chimed.
A customer walked in.
Or at least...
She assumed he was a customer.
He wore a charcoal-gray coat despite the warm weather.
A black baseball cap shadowed most of his face.
He paused just inside the entrance, scanning the café.
Then his eyes settled on Elena.
Only for a second.
Then he looked away.
"I'll have black coffee," he said calmly.
Noah nodded toward the counter.
"I'll get it."
The man thanked him politely and chose a table near the window.
He never looked at Elena again.
Yet she couldn't shake the strange feeling that she had seen him somewhere before.
Not his face.
His posture.
The way he carried himself.
Confident.
Quiet.
Patient.
As though he had nowhere else to be.
She continued serving customers, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling growing in her chest.
Every now and then, she glanced toward the window.
The stranger remained there, untouched coffee growing cold before him.
He wasn't reading.
He wasn't using his phone.
He simply watched the street outside.
Almost as if...
He was waiting for someone.
Nearly forty minutes later, he stood to leave.
As he reached the door, he paused beside Elena.
"Miss."
She looked up.
"Yes?"
He offered a polite smile.
"Be careful on your way home."
Before she could ask what he meant, he walked out.
Elena stared after him through the glass.
He crossed the street.
Turned the corner.
And disappeared.
A chill crept down her spine.
"Who was that?" Noah asked, placing a fresh tray of pastries in the display case.
"I don't know."
"What did he want?"
"He just...told me to be careful."
Noah frowned.
"That's odd."
Elena nodded slowly.
Very odd.
Neither of them noticed the black sedan parked half a block away.
Inside, a man lowered a pair of binoculars.
His lips curved into the faintest smile.
"She's beginning to notice."
He started the engine.
The car pulled away from the curb.
And disappeared into the morning traffic.
The rest of the day passed without incident.
Or at least, that was what Elena kept telling herself.
She finished her shift at the restaurant just after six in the evening. The dinner rush had left her exhausted, and all she wanted was a hot shower and a full night's sleep—something she hadn't had in days.
She untied her apron and slipped it into her locker.
"You look terrible."
Elena looked up to find Mia leaning against the doorway of the staff room.
Mia had worked at the restaurant for almost a year. She was cheerful, talkative, and somehow always managed to know everyone's business before they did.
"Thanks," Elena replied dryly.
"I'm serious."
"I haven't been sleeping."
Mia folded her arms.
"Problems with the wedding?"
Elena forced a smile.
"You could say that."
"I still don't understand why a billionaire would want to marry an ordinary waitress."
"Neither do I."
Mia studied her for a moment.
"You don't love him, do you?"
The question came so suddenly that Elena almost laughed.
"No."
"Not even a little?"
"No."
"Then why marry him?"
Elena looked away.
"It's complicated."
Mia waited, but Elena said nothing else.
She had learned that some burdens were too heavy to explain.
"You know," Mia said softly, "my grandmother always says a woman should never walk down the aisle with a heart that belongs somewhere else."
Elena's chest tightened.
Her heart did belong somewhere else.
To Noah.
And yet, every day that passed brought her closer to a wedding she didn't want.
"I should get going," Elena said, grabbing her handbag.
Mia nodded.
"Take care of yourself."
"I'll try."
Outside, the sky had turned a deep shade of orange as the sun disappeared behind the buildings.
Elena walked toward the taxi stand.
She had barely taken ten steps when she heard footsteps behind her.
Slow.
Steady.
Not close enough to touch her.
Just close enough to make her aware.
She stopped.
The footsteps stopped too.
She turned around.
The sidewalk was crowded with people heading home from work.
A businessman talking on his phone.
A mother pushing a stroller.
Two teenagers laughing over something on a mobile screen.
Nothing unusual.
She shook her head.
You're imagining things again.
She continued walking.
The footsteps returned.
This time, she didn't stop.
She increased her pace.
The footsteps matched hers.
Her heartbeat quickened.
She reached the taxi stand just as a cab pulled over.
Without thinking twice, she climbed into the back seat.
"Please drive."
The driver looked at her through the mirror.
"Where to?"
She gave him her address.
The cab pulled away.
Only then did she glance through the rear window.
No one was following.
She let out a slow breath.
Several blocks away, a silver sedan remained parked beneath the shade of an old oak tree.
Inside, a pair of eyes watched the taxi disappear.
The driver rested one hand on the steering wheel.
His phone buzzed.
Unknown Contact: Did she notice?
He typed a reply.
Not yet.
Another message arrived almost instantly.
Keep your distance. Don't frighten her before the wedding.
His thumb hovered over the screen.
Then he responded with a single word.
Understood.
He placed the phone on the passenger seat and started the engine.
The sedan merged smoothly into traffic.
That evening, Alexander was in the middle of a board meeting when his assistant quietly entered the conference room.
She rarely interrupted meetings.
Which meant something was wrong.
"Mr. Blackwood."
Alexander looked up.
"What is it?"
She leaned closer.
"It's about Miss Carter."
Every executive around the table noticed the slight change in his expression.
"Continue."
"Our security team believes someone has been following her."
Silence settled over the room.
Alexander slowly closed the file in front of him.
"End the meeting."
No one argued.
Within moments, the conference room was empty.
Only Alexander and his assistant remained.
"What exactly happened?"
"She wasn't harmed."
"That wasn't my question."
"Our men noticed the same silver sedan near her workplace three times this week."
Alexander frowned.
"The same vehicle?"
"Yes."
"License plate?"
"Fake."
He walked toward the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Blackridge City.
Someone was being careful.
Too careful.
"This doesn't feel random."
"We don't think it is."
Alexander remained silent.
Then he asked the question that had been bothering him since the anonymous messages began.
"Has she told the police?"
"No."
"Has she told me everything?"
His assistant hesitated.
"...We don't know."
Alexander slipped one hand into his pocket.
"For her sake..."
His voice was calm.
"...I hope she starts taking this seriously."
Meanwhile...
Across the city...
A man stood alone on the balcony of a luxurious penthouse.
The city lights stretched endlessly below.
His gaze rested on a single photograph in his hand.
It was old.
The edges had begun to fade.
In the picture, a young woman stood outside a bookstore, smiling as she balanced three novels against her chest.
She had no idea someone had taken her picture.
He traced the corner of the photograph with his thumb.
"You still smile the same way..."
His voice was almost a whisper.
"...even after all these years."
Behind him, the balcony door slid open.
A man in a tailored suit stepped outside.
"Sir."
He didn't turn around.
"What is it?"
"We've confirmed the wedding date."
A long silence followed.
"Six days."
The suited man nodded.
"Yes."
The man on the balcony looked toward the glittering skyline.
"Everything is ready?"
"Almost."
"No mistakes."
"There won't be."
Another pause.
Finally...
"Keep watching her."
"From a distance?"
He smiled faintly.
"For now."
The suited man nodded before disappearing back inside.
Alone once again, the mysterious man slipped the photograph back into his wallet.
His expression softened.
"I promised myself I'd wait until the right moment."
His eyes remained fixed on the city.
"The waiting is almost over."
The following afternoon, Elena left the restaurant earlier than usual.
Her manager had noticed how distracted she had been over the past few days and insisted she take the rest of the day off.
"You'll scare away the customers if you keep looking over your shoulder every five minutes," he'd joked.
She had laughed politely.
If only he knew.
Outside, the weather had changed. Thick grey clouds rolled across the sky, threatening rain.
Elena tightened her grip on her handbag and headed toward the taxi stand.
Her phone buzzed.
It was Noah.
"Hey."
"Are you done already?"
"Yeah."
"I was thinking we could have dinner together tonight."
A small smile tugged at her lips.
"I'd like that."
"I'll close the café a little earlier."
"You don't have to."
"I know."
There was a brief silence.
"You sound better today."
"I think I'm just getting used to being scared."
"Don't joke about that."
"I'm not joking."
Noah sighed.
"Promise me something."
"What?"
"If anything feels wrong...if anyone approaches you...call me immediately."
"I promise."
"And don't walk home alone."
"I won't."
They ended the call.
For the first time in days, Elena felt a little lighter.
She had barely reached the taxi stand when someone called her name.
"Miss Carter?"
She turned.
A man in a navy-blue suit stood a few feet away.
He looked to be in his early forties, neatly groomed and carrying a slim black envelope.
"Yes?"
He smiled politely.
"I've been looking for you."
Elena frowned.
"Do I know you?"
"No."
"Then why are you looking for me?"
"I have something for you."
He held out the envelope.
She didn't take it.
"What is it?"
"An invitation."
"From who?"
"I'm afraid I can't answer that."
Her suspicion immediately returned.
"I'm not accepting anything from strangers."
"I understand."
The man remained calm.
"But I was instructed to place it directly into your hands."
"Instructed by who?"
"I'm sorry, Miss Carter."
He offered the envelope again.
"I can't say."
Elena stared at him.
Everything about the situation felt wrong.
The anonymous messages.
The photographs.
The strange man in the café.
And now...
An invitation from someone who refused to reveal their name.
"No."
She stepped back.
"I'm not taking it."
The man's smile faded ever so slightly.
"As you wish."
To her surprise, he didn't argue.
Instead, he walked past her.
She watched him disappear into the crowd.
Only after he was gone did she notice something resting on the bench beside the taxi stand.
The same black envelope.
Her heart skipped.
He had left it there.
For her.
She shouldn't have picked it up.
She knew that.
Every instinct told her to leave it alone.
But curiosity won.
She slowly opened it.
Inside was a cream-colored invitation card embossed with elegant silver lettering.
BLACKWOOD CHARITABLE FOUNDATION
Cordially Invites Miss Elena Carter
To the Annual Blackwood Charity Gala
Attendance Required
She blinked.
Required?
There was no signature.
No explanation.
Only the date.
Three nights from now.
Folded neatly behind the invitation was another piece of paper.
Unlike the invitation, this one had been typed on plain white paper.
It contained only one sentence.
Someone at the gala knows the truth about Daniel.
Elena's breath caught.
Daniel.
Her brother.
Her hands trembled.
Was this another trap?
Or was someone finally trying to help her?
That evening...
Alexander Blackwood looked up from his desk as his assistant entered.
"Mr. Blackwood."
"What now?"
"Our invitations have been delivered."
Alexander nodded absentmindedly.
"Good."
"Miss Carter received hers."
He paused.
"Did she?"
"Yes."
Alexander leaned back in his chair.
"I doubt she'll come."
"Should we send someone to escort her?"
"No."
His answer was immediate.
"If she comes..."
He closed the file before him.
"...it will be because she chooses to."
Miles away...
Inside a luxurious penthouse overlooking Blackridge City...
The mysterious man stood beside the window.
His right-hand man entered quietly.
"Sir."
"Did she receive it?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"She looked frightened."
He looked out across the glittering skyline.
"Good."
His assistant frowned.
"Good?"
"Fear makes people pay attention."
A long silence followed.
Then...
"She'll come."
"You're certain?"
A faint smile crossed his face.
"She loves her brother too much not to."
The assistant hesitated.
"Should we be there?"
He finally turned around.
For the first time, the light revealed only the lower half of his face.
A calm smile.
Nothing more.
"No."
He answered quietly.
"Not yet."
He picked up an old photograph from the table.
It was the same one.
Elena.
Two years younger.
Smiling without a care in the world.
He studied it for a long moment before placing it back inside the drawer.
"The first move has already been made."
- Writer
