CHAPTER ONE - THE NOTE
340 Words
The city was supposed to be her escape.
Neon lights, crowded streets, and the promise of anonymity—everything Amara thought she needed to disappear.
She pressed her back against the door of her new apartment, exhaling shakily. The silence felt too heavy, too sharp, as if the walls themselves were listening. She told herself she was being paranoid. New places always felt strange at first.
But then she saw it.
A folded piece of paper slid neatly under her door. No footsteps, no knock. Just there—waiting.
Her fingers trembled as she picked it up. Five words, written in sleek black ink:
You can’t run from me.
Her pulse hammered. She dropped the note like it burned, her mind screaming with questions she had buried long ago. Nobody knew she was here. Nobody.
A soft laugh echoed in the hallway. Low. Male. Confident.
Amara’s breath hitched. She locked the door, pressed her back against it, and tried to convince herself it was nothing. Just a prank. Just bad timing.
But deep down, she knew better.
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Morning sunlight barely chased away the shadows. She told herself she wouldn’t think about the note again. She had a new job to focus on, a fresh start to protect. Her heels clicked against the marble floors of Cross Enterprises, the city’s most powerful financial empire.
Her stomach twisted with nerves as she stepped into the executive office.
The man behind the desk didn’t look up at first. Tall, sharp-featured, every movement dripping with authority. When his eyes finally met hers, the air in the room shifted.
Cold. Predatory. Beautiful.
Her blood froze. She knew that face.
“Y-you’re…” she stammered.
His lips curved in a slow, devastating smirk. He leaned back in his chair, dark eyes drinking her in like she already belonged to him.
“Did you really think,” he said, voice a velvet threat, “that I wouldn’t find you, little dove?”
Amara’s world shattered.
The note hadn’t been a warning.
It had been a promise.
- Writer
