His Dangerous Obsession

Mia pov: I woke up to the sound of my alarm and immediately regretted every decision that had brought me to this particular morning. I reached blindly across the nightstand, knocked my phone onto the floor, and groaned when the alarm continued ringing. "You're kidding me." I pushed myself out of bed and looked around the room I share with my best friend, Emily That was the first thing people usually noticed when they entered our apartment. Nothing matched. Emily's side looked like a creative hurricane had passed through it. Books, notebooks, headphones, clothes, and random pieces of paper were everywhere. My side was slightly more organized, although I wasn't exactly proud of it either. We had been roommates for long enough that we'd stopped pretending we were going to become perfectly tidy adults. I checked my phone. 7:16 a.m. "Fantastic." My first lecture was at eight. I grabbed my clothes and headed toward the bathroom. I was halfway through getting ready when the apartment door opened. "Mia?" Emily's voice. I stepped out of the bathroom and found her walking into the apartment. She looked tired, but there was something suspiciously satisfied about her expression. I narrowed my eyes. "You didn't sleep here." She dropped her handbag onto the couch. "Good morning to you too." "Where were you?" She gave me an innocent look. "No idea." "Emily." She laughed. "Fine. I stayed at Noah's." "I knew it." "Why are you sounding like my mother?" "Because somebody has to." She walked into our room and immediately dropped onto her bed. "I had great sex." "All you think of is sex." "You were absolutely worried." "I was wondering where my roommate disappeared to." "Same thing." I shook my head and continued getting ready. Emily watched me for a moment before her attention wandered to the sketchbook on my desk. She picked it up. "Don't." She stopped. "You always say that." "Because you always touch it." She opened it anyway. I sighed. Emily flipped through the pages. There were drawings of trees, quiet streets, flowers, buildings, lakes, and places I had visited or wanted to visit. Nothing extraordinary. Just things I noticed. Things I couldn't always explain with words. "You should really take art seriously," she said. I glanced at her through the mirror. "I do." "No. You like it seriously. That's different." I didn't answer. She knew why. Nursing had never been my dream. It was the dream someone else had chosen for me. My mother had always been very clear about the sort of future she wanted for me. A respectable career. A stable life. Something she could tell people about without having to explain herself. Art had never been on that list. I closed the sketchbook. "I have class." Emily rolled her eyes. "You always have class." "That's generally how university works." "Unfortunately." I smiled. For all her complaining, Emily loved her life. She was studying music and somehow managed to turn everything into a story. She could spend an entire evening talking about fantasy novels, mythology, strange worlds, impossible creatures, and music that sounded like it belonged in another century. She had more imagination than anyone I'd ever met. I envied that sometimes. I grabbed my bag. "Are you coming?" "In five minutes." "You said that yesterday." "And I meant it yesterday." I laughed and left the room. --- The day passed quickly. Classes. Notes. Coffee. Another lecture. A professor who seemed determined to convince us that sleep was optional. By the time I left campus, I was already thinking about my shift. I didn't need the job. That was the funny part. My family could afford to give me whatever I wanted. But I hated depending on anyone for money. Maybe it was because I'd grown up watching adults use money as a weapon. Maybe it was because I'd learned early that independence gave you choices. Whatever the reason, I liked earning my own money. The restaurant was close to campus, so I arrived a little before my shift started. The place was already busy. I tied my hair back, changed, and got to work. For several hours, everything was normal. Then, sometime after eight, I noticed it. A black SUV. Parked across the road. I frowned. There was nothing unusual about the car itself. It was just a black SUV. But something about it bothered me. I had seen it before. I was almost certain. I looked at it again. The windows were dark. I couldn't see the driver. "You're staring again." I turned. My coworker was standing behind me. "I'm not." "You are." I looked back at the road. The SUV was still there. "Do you know whose car that is?" "No." I shrugged. "Forget it." I tried to. But when I looked again several minutes later, it was gone. I told myself I was imagining things. That explanation was easier. --- My shift ended late. I changed, collected my things, and stepped outside. The night air was colder than I expected. I pulled my jacket tighter around myself and checked my phone. A message from my boyfriend was waiting. I'm still awake. Come over if you want. I smiled. I started typing a reply. Then I noticed something. At the end of the street, a black SUV slowly passed the restaurant. I stopped walking. The vehicle continued down the road. I stared after it. For a moment, an uncomfortable feeling settled in my stomach. Then I shook it off. I was tired. That was all. I continued walking. I didn't notice the second car parked farther down the road. I didn't notice the man watching from inside it. And I certainly didn't know that somewhere across the city, someone had already been told exactly where I was going. --- Damian "How long?" The man standing across from my desk hesitated. "Several weeks." I looked up. "And you waited several weeks to tell me?" "We were confirming the information." I leaned back in my chair. "Continue." He opened the folder in his hands. "University. Nursing program. Part-time job at a restaurant near campus. She lives with a roommate named Emily." I said nothing. He continued. "She's twenty-two." That number held my attention. Twenty-two. Finally. There had been a time when I had known her when she was much younger. A time when the difference between us had meant something that couldn't be ignored. So I stayed away. Years passed. She grew up. She built a life that had nothing to do with me. And I watched from a distance. Not because I had forgotten her. Because I hadn't. "Relationships?" I asked. The man hesitated again. "She has a boyfriend." Silence. I looked at him. "Name." He gave it to me. I remembered it. Of course I did. There had been others before him. Every time someone entered Mia's life, I heard about it. Every time someone became too close, I knew. I'd never interfered. Not before. She hadn't been an adult then. That mattered. Now it didn't. Tomorrow was her birthday. Twenty-three. I glanced toward the window. The city lights stretched endlessly beyond the glass. "Where is she going tonight?" "Her boyfriend's apartment." My jaw tightened. The jealousy came quietly. It always did. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just a cold pressure beneath the skin. "How far?" "About fifteen minutes from her workplace." I stood. "Is she alone?" "At the moment." I walked toward the window. For years, I had waited. Not because I was patient. Because I knew that some things couldn't be rushed. Mia had built a life without knowing I was still somewhere in the background. That was about to change. I turned toward the man. "Have the cars ready." He nodded. "And Damian?" I looked at him. "Yes?" "What do you want us to do if she resists?" My expression hardened. "Nobody hurts her." He nodded. I looked back through the window. "Bring her to me." For the first time in years, I allowed myself to say her name aloud. "Mia." And somewhere across the city, completely unaware of what was waiting for her, Mia was walking toward the next chapter of her life. She just didn't know that someone else had already written the beginning.