Rules of the predator
619 Words
The elevator lurched suddenly.
Isabella gasped as the lights flashed back to life.
A mechanical hum filled the silence, and the elevator resumed its descent like nothing had happened.
But nothing felt normal anymore.
Not after him.
Damian lowered his hand slowly, though his eyes remained fixed on her face with terrifying focus.
The tension between them was suffocating.
By the time the elevator reached the lobby, Isabella’s pulse felt bruised.
The doors slid open.
People moved through the grand hotel entrance in a blur of umbrellas and expensive coats, completely unaware that her entire world had tilted off its axis in less than ten minutes.
She stepped out immediately.
Fast.
Like distance might save her.
“Isabella.”
His voice stopped her instantly.
She hated that it did.
Turning slowly, she found Damian still inside the elevator, one hand against the door frame, dark eyes unreadable.
“Stay away from me,” she said quietly.
A slow smile appeared on his face.
“No.”
The doors closed before she could answer.
Leaving her standing there breathless.
—
By the time Isabella reached her apartment, the storm had worsened.
Rain hammered against the windows while thunder shook the old building hard enough to rattle picture frames.
She locked the door behind her twice.
Then three times.
Ridiculous.
Damian Moretti wasn’t going to appear in her apartment.
Probably.
She dropped her purse onto the kitchen counter and exhaled shakily. Her body still remembered the heat of his touch, the sound of his voice, the terrifying confidence in his eyes.
“You’re losing your mind,” she muttered.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
Her stomach tightened instantly.
She stared at the screen before answering carefully.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then—
“You shouldn’t lie to me.”
Her breath stopped.
Damian.
Ice spread through her chest.
“How did you get this number?”
“You ask the wrong questions.”
His voice was smooth. Calm. Controlled.
Meanwhile, panic clawed through her ribs.
“What do you want from me?”
A soft pause.
“You.”
The single word shattered the air between them.
Isabella gripped the edge of the counter harder.
“This isn’t funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
Thunder cracked outside.
For the first time in years, she genuinely felt unsafe.
Not because Damian threatened her.
Because some part of her wanted him to keep talking.
“You barely know me,” she whispered.
“I know enough to understand you’re lonely.”
Her chest tightened painfully.
“How dare you.”
“You hide it well,” he continued smoothly, “but I see it. The way you watch happy couples like you’re studying something you’ll never have. The way you leave lights on at night because silence bothers you. The way you pretend you’re strong because nobody ever stayed long enough for you to be weak.”
Tears burned unexpectedly behind her eyes.
Because he was right.
And she hated him for it.
“Stop.”
“You want someone dangerous,” Damian said quietly. “Someone who consumes every thought in your head.”
“Stop talking.”
“You want obsession.”
Her breathing became uneven.
“You know nothing about me.”
A pause.
Then his voice dropped lower.
“Open your curtains.”
Fear slid through her body instantly.
Slowly, Isabella turned toward the rain-covered windows.
Her apartment was on the seventh floor.
Across the street, beneath a flickering streetlight—
A black car waited.
And inside it…
A man watched her.
Even from this distance, she knew it was him.
Damian’s voice filled her ear softly.
“Now,” he murmured, “you can be afraid.”
- Writer
