A full week passes.
No messages.
No note.
No shadow trailing her.
Leah starts thinking maybe Adrian Volkov forgot she existed… or decided she wasn't worth the trouble.
Maybe she imagined the threat in his eyes that night.
Maybe he wasn't coming for her after all.
She tries to move on with her normal life.
Work → home → sleep → repeat.
But every time she pours a coffee, she checks the door.
Every time someone stands too close behind her, her pulse spikes.
Every night, she wonders if she'll wake up to glass shattering or a gloved hand over her mouth.
Because the truth is simple:
She saw his face when he killed that man.
He knows she saw.
And men like him don't leave loose ends.
But… nothing happens.
Until the eighth night.
It starts with a knock — sharp, precise, like someone tapping out a warning.
Leah freezes.
Three knocks.
A pause.
Then her door handle jiggles.
Her blood runs cold.
She steps back just as the door swings open.
Adrian Volkov walks inside like he owns the place — black coat, gloves, expression carved out of stone. No smile. No charm. Just his presence swallowing the room whole.
"Locking your door means nothing to me," he says, voice low, calm, terrifyingly in control.
Leah backs up until her shoulders hit the wall.
Her voice shakes. "What do you want from me?"
He finally looks at her — really looks — and there's nothing soft in his eyes.
"You saw something you weren't supposed to."
He steps closer, slow, predatory.
"And I don't trust you to keep your mouth shut."
She swallows hard. "I-I haven't told anyone—"
"Good," he interrupts. "I'm not here to ask."
He reaches out and brushes his thumb over her jaw, tilting her head up. The touch is gentle — the threat behind it is not.
"So now," Adrian whispers, "you're coming with me."
"Why?" Her voice cracks. "Are you going to kill me?"
A dangerous smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth.
"If I wanted you dead, Leah, you wouldn't have survived the night you saw me."
His hand slides from her jaw to her waist, claiming without permission.
"No. I'm taking you."
She shivers — fear, adrenaline, and something she doesn't want to name.
"Get dressed," he says, stepping back. "You have five minutes."
"And if I don't?"
He turns his back on her, completely certain she won't run.
"Then I'll dress you myself.
Leah doesn't move at first.
Her heart is beating too fast.
Her legs feel numb.
Her mind is screaming don't go, but her body… her body listens to him before she even decides.
She forces herself into motion, trembling as she grabs her jacket. Her hands shake the entire time — because she knows he's not bluffing. If she refuses, he will put his hands on her again, and this time, she doubts he'd be gentle.
Behind her, Adrian stands with his back turned, hands clasped behind him, posture perfect, like he's waiting for an elevator… not abducting someone.
"I'm ready," she whispers.
He turns his head slightly, eyes flicking over her like a silent inspection.
"Good. Shoes."
She slips them on, still shaking.
The moment she stands, he steps forward and grips her wrist — not painfully, but firmly enough to say you're not going anywhere I don't want you to.
He pulls her out of her apartment, down the hall, down the stairs.
No words.
No explanation.
Outside, a sleek black car waits at the curb, engine humming.
Adrian opens the back door with one hand while keeping his grip on her wrist with the other.
"In," he says simply.
Leah hesitates — one second, no more — and his jaw flexes.
"Don't test me tonight."
She climbs in.
He gets in beside her, not in the front — beside her — closing off the only exit. The car starts moving instantly.
Leah's breath comes in shallow little bursts.
She stares at the window, watching buildings blur by, but she can feel him watching her.
Studying her.
Measuring her.
Finally, she whispers, "Where are you taking me?"
He rests his arm casually on the back of the seat, fingers brushing her shoulder.
"To my house."
Her stomach drops. "Why?"
He doesn't look away from her this time.
"Because I don't have the time to check on whether you've opened your mouth or not."
She frowns. "i already told you I wouldn't tell anyone"
A ghost of a smile appears in his face."people say a lot of things when their lives are at stake."
She flinches at how simply he says it
Silence.
Just her breathing, shallow and panicked… and his, steady and controlled.
She squeezes her eyes shut. "So what happens now?"
Adrian's fingers slide down her arm, wrapping around her hand — a possessive, unbreakable hold.
"Now?" he says.
"You stay with me until I decide you're not a threat."
"How long will that be?"
He brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, the touch intimate in a way he has no right to be.
"As long as I want."
Her heart stutters.
"That's not fair."
His thumb traces her cheek — slow, claiming.
"Fairness has never been something I cared about."
Her voice cracks. "You can't keep me."
His gaze darkens, the temperature in the car dropping with it.
"I already am."
The car turns into a private road, surrounded by iron gates and stone walls.
Leah realizes, with a sickening twist of fear and something else she hates to admit…
She's not going home tonight.
She's not going home for a long, long time.
And Adrian Volkov?
He looks like a man who get's what he wants.