UNKNOWN
He watches her bedroom light go out from his position across the street. He's been here for two hours, watching her move through her penthouse, tracking her movements with practiced precision.
He saw her read his note this afternoon, watched through the office window as the color drained from her face, then flooded back as a flush. She was aroused, not scared and not disgusted but aroused.
The knowledge sends satisfaction and self-loathing through him in equal measure because this is stalking and there's no other word for it because left an explicit note on her desk and now he's sitting in his car watching her building. He's memorized her schedule, her routines, and her patterns.
This is wrong.
He knows it's wrong but he can't stop.
It started as curiosity, then interest. The
