WRAPPED

FADING MASKS

Elliot had spent another six hours in his study, staring at the black screen of his Linux workstation. The corrupted traffic camera files from the night market attack were a complete dead end, and his inability to identify the stranger who had intervened was gnawing at his mind.

He felt a growing hunger to relive the thrill of robbing a woman of her life and dignity, the dark impulse he usually kept under strict control, the primal urge to hunt, control, and take, was rising fast.

His usual process was meticulous. He would stalk a target for weeks, mapping her schedule, studying her vulnerabilities, and building a spotless alibi before striking. But right now, his life was changing. Lilly was living in his space. She was quiet, soft, and increasingly essential to him. In a strange, possessive way, he was beginning to want her around a little longer.

And because he wanted to keep Lilly, he needed a replacement. A quick release. A nameless target he could snatch fast, just to clear the dark fog clouding his mind and restore his sense of power.

Elliot stood behind his desk, rubbing his forehead as the dark plan took shape in his mind. No three-week surveillance this time. A fast pickup. A isolated location. One night to regain control.

He closed his laptop, but the frustration from the digital blackout was still simmering right beneath his skin. The warm, polite persona he usually put on was wearing dangerously thin.

Elliot stepped into the hallway and walked into the kitchen without a word, opening the refrigerator to grab a bottle of sparkling water.

Lilly was at the granite island, quietly prepping dinner. She turned toward him with a warm, timid smile. "Dinner is almost ready, Elliot. I made roasted herb chicken

Elliot didn't smile back. His dark eyes were dull and fixated on the counter. "Did you move my notebook?"

Lilly blinked, tilting her head innocently. "Which notebook?"

"The black leather notebook," Elliot said, his voice dropping into a flat, icy register. "It was sitting on the end of the dining table this morning. Now it’s gone."

"Oh," Lilly said softly, her hands folding over her apron as if nervous. "I didn't move it into another room, Elliot. I just set it on the bottom shelf of the side credenza so it wouldn't get sauce on it while I was prepping dinner."

For two seconds, the silence in the kitchen was absolute.

Then, Elliot snapped under the weight of his built-up frustration.

He slammed his glass water bottle onto the granite island with a loud, violent CRACK. Water splashed across the polished stone surface.

"I told you never to touch my things!" Elliot yelled, stepping toward her so fast that his chest nearly brushed hers. His face contorted with raw, explosive rage. "Everything in this house has a specific place, Lilly! I do not pay for order in my life just for you to come in here and mess with it!"

Lilly gasped, flinching hard. She backed up until her lower back pressed against the edge of the kitchen counter, shrinking down, her shoulders hunched, her eyes wide with fear.

"I... I'm sorry!" she squeaked out, her voice trembling. "I was just trying to keep it clean... I'm so sorry, Elliot!"

Elliot stood over her, his breathing heavy, his fists clenched tight at his sides. For five agonizing seconds, the predator was fully unmasked a controlling, violent man cracking under pressure.

In her ear, Vance’s voice crackled through the micro-receiver, sharp and urgent: "Lilly, report. Do you need us to move in?"

Lilly didn't utter a word to Vance. She kept her focus entirely on Elliot, letting two real tears spill over her eyelashes, her hands shaking as she held them up defensively.

Elliot looked down at her—at her small, trembling frame, her terrified eyes, her complete submission.

The sight of her absolute weakness hit his ego like a drug, instantly confirming why he wanted her kept here forever. The rage began to drain from his face, replaced by the sudden realization that he had let his temper breach his composure.

He closed his eyes, taking a long, deep breath to steady his pulse. When he opened them again, the smooth mask was slid back into place.

"Lilly..." Elliot whispered, his tone shifting instantly back to soft, smooth remorse. He stepped forward, gently cupping her chin with his hand. "Oh, sweetheart... look at me."

Lilly kept her body tense, letting out a small sob as she looked up at him.

"I am so, so sorry," Elliot murmured, using his thumb to tenderly wipe away her tears before pulling her tight against his chest. "I shouldn't have raised my voice. Work has been unbearable today... my head is pounding. But that is no excuse to speak to you like that."

"You... you scared me," Lilly sobbed softly into his shirt.

"I know, I know," Elliot whispered, kissing the top of her head repeatedly. "I promise you, it will never happen again. Please forgive me, Lilly."

"I forgive you," Lilly whispered back, her cheek resting against his chest.

Elliot stroked her hair, his mind already racing ahead. I'm keeping her, he thought coldly. Which means , A Quick HUNT

And right against his chest, Lilly felt the subtle shift in his posture—realizing that his sudden calm didn't mean the danger had passed. It meant he was already planning his next move.