THE DUCKWOOD CONTRACT

By the time I got home, I was exhausted enough to forget my own name. It had been one of those days. The kind that seemed to stretch far beyond twenty-four hours. My feet hurt from standing. My shoulders were stiff from sitting at my desk for too long, and my head throbbed with the kind of headache that made every sound feel unnecessarily loud. All I wanted was silence. My apartment was usually the only place where I could find it. I unlocked the door, stepped inside, and immediately kicked my shoes off. They landed somewhere near the entrance. I didn't care. "Home," I whispered. The word came out like a sigh. I closed the door behind me and locked it. Once. Then I checked it again. It clicked firmly beneath my fingers. I smiled to myself. "Safe." I dropped my handbag onto the small table beside the door and walked farther into the apartment. Everything looked normal. The living room was exactly as I'd left it that morning. My throw blanket was folded over the arm of the couch. A book I'd been trying to finish for nearly two weeks was still lying face-down on the coffee table. The kitchen light was off. The bedroom door was closed. Nothing was unusual. And yet... I stopped. I couldn't explain why. Something felt different. I looked around. The apartment was silent. Too silent. I frowned. Maybe it was simply because I was tired. I walked into the kitchen and switched on the light. I opened the refrigerator, stared inside for several seconds, and realized I had no idea what I was looking for. "Great." I shut it again. I reached for a glass. Then stopped. The glass I wanted was already sitting on the counter. I stared at it. I didn't remember leaving it there. That was strange. Not frightening. Just strange. I picked it up, rinsed it, filled it with water, and took a drink. Then I noticed the curtains. One side was slightly open. I stared at it. I was almost certain I'd closed them before leaving that morning. Almost. I walked toward the window. The city stretched beneath me, thousands of lights flickering between buildings. I looked down at the street. People were moving along the sidewalks. Cars passed. Nothing unusual. I closed the curtain. Then I stood there for another few seconds. Watching. Waiting. For what, I didn't know. Finally, I shook my head. "You need sleep, Elena." I turned away. As I walked toward my bedroom, I noticed another thing. The bedroom door was open. I stopped. I knew I'd closed it. This time, I was certain. I always closed my bedroom door when I left. Always. I stared at the doorway. A strange feeling crawled slowly up my spine. I walked toward it. "Hello?" The sound of my own voice made the apartment feel even quieter. No answer. I reached the doorway. My bedroom looked untouched. The bed was neatly made. My clothes were where I'd left them. My wardrobe was closed. I walked inside. Nothing. I checked the bathroom. Empty. The closet. Empty. Under the bed. Nothing. I laughed quietly at myself. "Seriously?" I stood up. Maybe I was imagining things. Maybe I'd left the door open that morning and simply forgotten. That was possible. I was tired. Very tired. I changed into something comfortable and decided to take a shower. The bathroom filled with the sound of running water. I stood beneath it with my eyes closed, letting the cold water wash over me. Slowly, the tension in my shoulders began to disappear. My breathing became steadier. For the first time all day, I felt completely alone. And that was exactly what I wanted. Until I heard something. A sound. Barely audible beneath the water. I opened my eyes. Silence. I listened. Nothing. I turned off the shower. The sudden silence was worse. I stood there, listening. Then— a faint sound came from somewhere beyond the bathroom. A floorboard. I froze. Someone had moved. My heart began beating faster. I reached for my towel. "Who's there?" Nothing. I stepped out of the shower. My hands were trembling. I wrapped the towel around myself and opened the bathroom door. The hallway was empty. I stared toward the living room. Nothing. "Hello?" Still nothing. I took one step forward. Then another. The apartment seemed different now. The same furniture. The same walls. The same lights. But somehow, it no longer felt like mine. I looked toward the front door. Locked. I checked it. Still locked. A breath escaped me. Maybe I'd heard something from another apartment. Maybe someone had dropped something upstairs. Maybe— I heard the sound again. This time, from behind me. I turned. A man was standing in the doorway of my bedroom. I couldn't breathe. He was tall. Very tall. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, the kind that looked expensive without needing to announce itself. His dark hair was neatly styled. His expression was calm. Too calm. He wasn't startled to see me. He wasn't confused. He looked as though he'd been waiting. For me. I couldn't move. My fingers tightened around the towel. "Who are you?" My voice shook. He didn't answer. "How did you get in here?" His eyes remained on mine. I took a step backward. "Please..." My voice became smaller. "If you're here for money, you can take it." Still nothing. I pointed toward the bedroom. "There are valuables in there." His expression didn't change. "Take whatever you want." He finally spoke. "I don't want your money." His voice was low. Calm. Almost disturbingly gentle. My stomach tightened. "Then what do you want?" He looked at me for a long moment. Then he said, "I want you to stop being afraid." I stared at him. "What?" He took one slow step toward me. I immediately stepped back. "Don't." He stopped. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then his eyes traveled briefly around the apartment before returning to mine. "I've been watching you." My heart seemed to stop. "What?" "I've seen you leave for work." My breathing became shallow. "I've seen you come home." I couldn't speak. "I know which nights you stay late." My fingers tightened around the towel. "How long?" He didn't answer. "How long have you been watching me?" He looked at me. Long enough. That was what his silence seemed to say. I swallowed. "Why?" Something almost like amusement touched his expression. "I was curious." "About what?" "You." I stared at him. "You don't know me." "Not yet." The words sent a chill through me. I looked toward the front door. He noticed. "You won't get very far." My eyes snapped back to him. "What does that mean?" He didn't answer. Instead, he turned and walked toward the living room. I stayed exactly where I was. He stopped near the front door. I watched him reach for the handle. Before opening it, he looked back at me. His eyes met mine. There was something unreadable in them. Something that frightened me more than anger would have. "I'll see you again." "No." The word escaped me immediately. He opened the door. "Please don't." He stepped into the hallway. Then he looked back one last time. "Get some sleep, Elena." My blood ran cold. I had never told him my name. The door closed. I stood frozen. For several seconds, I couldn't move. Then reality returned all at once. I rushed toward the door. I grabbed the handle. Pulled it open. The hallway was empty. I looked left. Nothing. Right. Nothing. I stepped into the hallway. "Hey!" No answer. I ran toward the elevator. The doors were already closing. I pressed the button repeatedly. Nothing. The elevator disappeared downward. I stood there, breathing heavily. Then I looked back at my apartment. A thought suddenly struck me. I hadn't heard the elevator arrive. I hadn't heard him walking down the hallway. I hadn't heard another door open. Nothing. I walked slowly back inside. I closed the door. Then locked it. I pulled the handle. Locked. I checked it again. Still locked. I stared at the door. My mind replayed the last few minutes. The man had walked out. But there had been no sound. No explanation. Nothing. I slowly turned around. My apartment was empty. Completely empty. And yet, for the first time since I'd moved in, I didn't feel alone. I walked toward the kitchen. Then stopped. The glass I'd left beside the sink was gone. I stared at the empty counter. My heart began pounding again. Someone had been inside my home. Someone had been watching me. And somehow... he had left without leaving a single trace. I looked toward the locked front door. Then at the empty kitchen counter. A terrifying thought entered my mind. What if he hadn't been the only person watching me? I didn't sleep that night. And I didn't know it yet... but that was only the beginning. END OF CHAPTER ONE