3. The Stalker
704 Words
Aria Blackwood woke up alone, as she preferred.
Her bedroom was large, quiet, and orderly. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city. Pale light filtered in through partially drawn curtains. The bed beneath her was untouched on the other side.
She sat up and reached for her phone.
Notifications filled the screen. Market alerts. Messages. Invitations. Missed calls from people who did not matter. She scrolled through them calmly, lips curving slightly as she read the numbers.
Another gain overnight.
She tapped a message from her financial advisor.
ADVISOR: You were right. Again.
ARIA: I know.
She set the phone down and stood. Silk sheets slid off her shoulders. She crossed the room without hesitation and stepped into the bathroom. The mirror reflected a woman fully awake, fully aware of herself.
Dark hair fell loose down her back. Her face was sharp, expressive, confident. No hesitation in her eyes.
The door opened quietly.
“Good morning, Ms. Blackwood,” a maid said. “Would you like breakfast now or later?”
“Later,” Aria replied. “Bring coffee.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Aria dressed quickly. Black shorts and a fitted top. Bare feet. She liked comfort in the mornings. Power could wait until noon.
When she stepped into the hallway, the mansion was already alive. Staff moved efficiently. Doors opened and closed. Voices stayed low. Everything ran on schedule.
She walked past them without slowing.
A man in a suit approached her near the staircase. “Your ten o’clock has been moved to eleven. And the Zurich call confirmed.”
“Cancel Zurich,” Aria said. “They’ll come back with better terms.”
He nodded. “As you wish.”
She descended the stairs and entered the main living area. The space was wide, clean, and intentional. Every piece of furniture had been chosen by her. Nothing sentimental. Nothing inherited.
Aria sat on the couch and picked up her phone again.
A message caught her attention.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: ‘Did you enjoy last night?’
She smiled slightly and typed back.
ARIA: ‘Depends. Who is this?’
The response came almost instantly.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: ‘Someone you left wanting more.’
Aria laughed under her breath.
ARIA: ‘Get in line.’
She locked the phone and leaned back.
Men were easy. They always believed attention meant access. She never corrected them.
A tray appeared on the table in front of her. Coffee. Fresh fruit. No one announced it. They knew better.
“Thank you,” she said anyway.
The servant inclined her head and stepped away.
Aria sipped the coffee and opened her phone again. Another message notification appeared. This one was different. No name. No photo.
Just text.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: ‘You shouldn’t have come outside last night.’
Her fingers paused.
She reread the message.
ARIA: ‘That’s an odd thing to say to someone you don’t know.’
Several seconds passed.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: ‘We’ve met before.’
Her jaw tightened slightly. Not fear. Interest.
ARIA: ‘I don’t forget faces.’
UNKNOWN NUMBER: ‘You forgot everything else.’
She stared at the screen longer this time and smiled.
A faint pressure settled behind her eyes. Not pain. Not dizziness. Just awareness.
She stood abruptly.
“Clear my schedule,” she said to no one in particular.
A voice answered immediately. “All of it, Ms. Blackwood?”
“Yes.”
She walked toward the windows, phone still in hand.
ARIA: ‘If this is a threat, try harder.’
The reply came slower now.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: ‘It’s not a threat. It’s a warning.’
She smiled again
ARIA: ‘Warnings sound fun to me. They’re my kind of thing’.
She blocked the number and slid the phone into her pocket.
Outside, the city moved as usual. Nothing had changed.
Still, Aria felt restless.
She had the sudden, unreasonable certainty that something had already begun. Not because of the message. Because of the feeling she could not explain.
She turned away from the window.
“Get the car ready,” she said. “I’m going out.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Aria walked back toward the stairs, calm and composed.
Whatever was coming for her would learn quickly.She was not the girl people thought they could own.
- Writer
