THE STALKER WHO SAVED ME

CHAPTER 6

Liam’s apartment smelled like fresh linen and the faint trace of his cologne—comforting, familiar, and suddenly too intimate.

I sank onto the couch while he moved around the kitchen, pouring water into the kettle, pulling out chamomile tea like he’d done a hundred times before during late-night study sessions. Jake paced near the window, phone in hand, refreshing social media every thirty seconds.

“The videos are still trending,” Jake muttered, voice tight with worry. “Hashtag ‘IceKingThaws’ is everywhere. Someone even slowed down the part where you whisper something in his ear. Comments are wild—half calling you lucky, half saying you’re doomed. Anderson’s stock dipped two points after hours. People are speculating he’s lost control.”

I rubbed my temples. The migraine had settled in for the night, but it was nothing compared to the storm in my chest. “I didn’t whisper anything. I don’t remember.”

Jake stopped pacing and dropped beside me, grabbing my hands. His eyes were wide, genuine fear shining through. “That’s what scares me most, Tefon. You don’t remember, but he does. Every detail. And now he’s acting like you signed some invisible contract in that club. I’ve seen how he operates in the office—cold, calculated, ruthless. But with you? It’s different. Darker. Like he’s been waiting for an excuse to let the obsession out. If you go into that board meeting tomorrow without a solid wall between you two, he’ll use it to pull you deeper. Please promise me you won’t be alone with him again.”

His voice cracked on the last words. Jake, my loud, carefree best friend who had laughed at my hangover this morning, now looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His concern wrapped around me like a blanket I both needed and wanted to shrug off. I squeezed his hands back.

“I promise I’ll be careful. But running or hiding isn’t the answer. I worked too hard to get this job. I’m not letting one drunken night destroy everything.”

Liam returned with three mugs, setting them on the coffee table before sitting on my other side. Closer than usual. His knee brushed mine and stayed there. “Jake’s right to worry. Anderson doesn’t do half-measures. But you’re smart enough to handle him. You always have been. That’s one of the things I…” He paused, staring into his tea. “One of the things I’ve always liked about you. You don’t fold under pressure.”

The air shifted again. Jake shot Liam a quick, questioning glance—the same one I felt burning in my own mind. Liked? Since when did “liked” carry that weight?

I took a sip of tea, buying time. “Liam, you’ve been amazing tonight. Showing up, offering your place, everything. But… is there something you’re not saying?”

He set his mug down slowly, turning to face me fully. Warm brown eyes met mine, steady but laced with something new—vulnerability mixed with quiet intensity. “I’ve been your friend for years. Been there through every breakup, every promotion stress, every time you needed someone who wouldn’t judge. But seeing those videos… seeing Anderson look at you like he already owned you… it hit different. Made me realize I’ve been holding back. Because I didn’t want to complicate things. But now? I’m questioning if staying silent was the right call. If maybe I should’ve told you sooner how much you mean to me.”

Jake froze mid-sip. His concerned expression deepened into something protective and wary. “Liam… dude. Timing.”

Liam didn’t back down. “Timing got stolen by Anderson. I’m not trying to pressure her. I just… I care, Tefon. Deeply. And if that means standing between you and whatever game Anderson is playing, I will. Without hesitation.”

The confession settled over the room like smoke. My intelligent mind raced—cataloging every past moment, every lingering hug, every text at midnight. Had the signs always been there, and I’d been too focused on work, on survival, to see them? Emotionally aware as I was, this felt like another layer of danger: not the sharp, possessive edge of Anderson, but a slow, warm pull that could tangle just as tightly.

I stood up, needing distance from both of them. “I appreciate it. Both of you. But right now I need to focus on tomorrow. The board. My career. Not… whatever this is becoming.”

Jake nodded quickly, concern still etched deep. “Exactly. Sleep. We’ll wake up early, go over your statement. Keep it professional. Deny any ongoing involvement. Anderson can spin his stories, but you control your narrative.”

Liam rose too, but slower. “My spare room is yours. Fresh sheets. No expectations.” He hesitated, then added softly, “But if you want to talk more—about Anderson, about anything—I’m here. Always have been.”

I managed a small smile and headed to the guest room, closing the door behind me with a soft click.

Alone at last, I leaned against the wood, exhaling shakily.

My phone lit up on the nightstand.

Anderson: You think hiding with your little protectors changes anything?

The message was followed by a photo—security footage from the parking garage. Me walking away with Jake and Liam. Anderson had been watching. Even then.

Another text came through immediately.

Anderson: Cute. But tomorrow the board will see the truth. You danced for me. You felt it. And when they ask why the Ice King broke his rules for one junior analyst… I’ll tell them exactly what I told you.

Anderson: You’re already mine. The sooner you stop fighting it, the less painful it will be.

I stared at the screen, pulse roaring. Possession in every word. He wasn’t angry at my defiance—he was savoring it. Turning it into fuel for whatever game he was playing.

A soft knock sounded.

Jake’s voice, muffled. “Tefon? You okay in there? I can stay on the couch if you want. Just… don’t want you alone with your thoughts after today.”

Before I could answer, my phone buzzed again.

Liam: Door’s open if you need company. Or just to vent. I meant what I said earlier.

Two doors. Two men pulling in opposite directions.

Jake’s loud, frantic worry—the best friend terrified of losing me to a monster.

Liam’s quiet, deepening feelings—the safe harbor that was starting to feel like uncharted waters.

And somewhere across the city, in his glass-and-steel penthouse, Anderson waited. Patient. Dangerous. Emotionally locked down but burning with obsession that had begun as curiosity in a red-lit club and was rapidly becoming something far more consuming.

I turned off the phone, climbed into bed, and stared at the ceiling.

Tomorrow the board would demand answers.

Anderson would push his claim.

Jake would hover with growing panic.

Liam’s questions about his own heart would hang unspoken.

And I?

I would walk into the fire refusing to bow.

But as sleep finally pulled me under, one chilling thought followed me into the dark:

What if Anderson was right?

What if fighting only made him want me more?