Ben didn't sleep. Not even for a second. He sat on the couch downstairs with the lights off, elbows on his knees, watching the faint glow of the streetlamps bleed through the curtains. The whole house felt too quiet, too still, like Jasper had stolen the normal rhythm out of the air and replaced it with something tight and electric.
Ella came down the stairs barefoot, her face tired but sharp. She didn't bother pretending she slept either. She stopped at the last step and studied Ben, her eyes narrowing with a blend of irritation and worry.
"You're doing that thing again," she said.
Ben didn't look away from the window. "What thing?"
"The brooding." She walked over to him. "It's giving 'sad billionaire in a drama series' energy."
Ben snorted once, small, dry. "I'm not sad."
"Right," she muttered. "And I'm the Queen of England."
Ben finally turned his head. The faintest smirk tugged at his mouth. "You'd make a terrible queen."
Ella rolled her eyes. "Focus."
His expression sobered instantly. "I heard something outside."
Ella stiffened. "Footsteps?"
"Not exactly." He nodded toward the window. "Movement."
Ella approached slowly, peering through the gap in the curtains. The street looked normal, quiet road, parked cars, houses dark and asleep. Nothing out of the ordinary.
"Could've been an animal," she said softly.
"No," Ben replied. "Animals don't stand still."
Ella froze. Her heart dipped, then slammed harder, like it wanted out of her chest.
"You saw someone?" she whispered.
"I saw a silhouette," he said. "Right under the streetlight."
Ella pulled the curtain wider, searching the sidewalk. Nothing. No shadow. No figure. But she didn't doubt him. Not now.
"What did he do?" she asked.
Ben's jaw flexed. "Stared."
Ella swallowed. "At the house?"
"At me," Ben corrected.
That hit different.
She released the curtain and stepped back. "He's bold."
"Or stupid," Ben muttered.
"Or both," she said.
They stood there for a moment; still, tense, listening for something, anything, that would explain the ice crawling across the back of their necks.
Then Ella's phone buzzed.
Her stomach tilted. Ben's eyes snapped to her, reading her reaction before she even unlocked it.
Another message.
Same unknown number.
Ella opened it.
Only one sentence:
"You look better in the dark."
Ella's breath caught. "Okay… that's disgusting."
Ben snatched the phone, fury tightening his whole body. "He saw you at the window."
Ella dragged her hands through her hair. "This is getting too close."
Ben moved toward the front door.
"Ben," Ella hissed. "Where are you going?"
"To check outside."
She grabbed his arm. "No. That's exactly what he wants."
Ben glared at the door, like he expected Jasper to materialize behind it. "Ella, I'm not letting him stand in front of my house staring at you."
Ella stepped in front of him. "Listen to me. If you go out there and he runs? He gets distance. If he stays? You don't know if he's armed, desperate, or planning something worse."
Ben exhaled hard. "I'm not afraid of him."
Ella stared dead into his eyes. "I know. But he isn't afraid of you either anymore. That's the problem."
Ben pushed a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I can't just sit here."
"And you won't," she said. "But we need to be smart. If he's watching, we control what he sees."
Ben met her gaze. "Another performance?"
Ella nodded. "But a different kind."
She walked toward the kitchen island, grabbed a pen, and scribbled something quickly on a notepad. Ben came over to read it.
"Lights on. Argument upstairs. Leave blinds open. Let him think we're distracted."
Ben raised a brow. "You want us to stage another fight?"
"No," she said. "Not a fight. A disagreement. Something that makes us look divided but not broken."
Ben looked skeptical. "And that draws him closer?"
Ella nodded. "People like him, they get addicted to cracks. They want to wedge themselves in."
Ben sighed. "Fine. Your call."
Ella tossed the pen aside. "Let's give him a show."
They walked upstairs deliberately, flicking lights on one by one. The house glowed bright enough anyone watching from outside could follow their movements. Ella made sure the blinds in the hallway stayed slightly open.
When they reached the landing, Ella spoke just loud enough for someone outside to catch bits and pieces.
"Ben, you didn't tell me about the silhouette earlier!"
Ben played along instantly. "Because I didn't want you panicking!"
"That's not your decision!" she snapped.
They stepped into her room, leaving the door half-open.
Ella kept her voice projected. "We can't keep pretending this is normal!"
Ben growled back, "I'm handling it!"
Ella scoffed. "Really? By glaring at the window all night?"
"That's not fair," he shot back.
Ella let silence stretch; heavy, believable. Then she stormed to her desk chair and dropped into it dramatically.
Ben leaned against her dresser, arms crossed. He looked at her with a small, dry smirk.
"People watching wouldn't know this is fake," he murmured.
Ella whispered back, "Good."
Then she spoke up louder:
"You need to start listening to me, Ben!"
Ben replied sharply, "Then give me something worth listening to!"
Ella inhaled sharply, genuine irritation mixing with the performance. "I am!"
Then, footsteps.
Not inside.
Outside.
Ella froze. Ben stilled. Both of them listened, breath held, ears straining.
The crunch of gravel.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Ella whispered, "He's closer."
Ben whispered back, "Don't move."
The footsteps stopped right beneath Ella's bedroom window.
Ella's blood ran cold.
Ben's face tightened with pure, lethal calm.
Ella mouthed silently:
"He's right under us."
Ben's jaw clenched.
"Let him think we don't hear."
Ella turned her chair slightly toward the window, pretending to be unaware. Ben walked to her closet as if irritated with her, as if still in character.
Another sound floated up.
A faint tap.
On the glass.
Ella's heart stopped.
Ben's shoulders went rigid, but he didn't turn.
The tapping came again.
Slow.
Mocking.
Taunting.
Ella's pulse hammered so loudly she was sure Jasper could hear it from outside.
She whispered, barely audible:
"Ben… he's touching my window."
Ben didn't look at her. Couldn't.
His voice was low, deadly.
"One more second. Let him get comfortable."
Ella swallowed hard. "And then?"
Ben whispered:
"We trap him."
The tapping stopped.
Silence.
Then—
A shadow slid across the curtains.
Tall.
Thin.
Lingering.
Ella's fingers dug into the arms of her chair.
Ben's eyes flicked up, watching the movement through the narrow gap between the curtain and the window frame.
Jasper leaned closer.
His voice barely a breath, floated through the glass:
"You're not alone anymore."
Ella stiffened.
Ben moved.
Fast.
He bolted for the door, motioning sharply for Ella to stay put. She didn't argue. Not this time.
Ben charged down the stairs two at a time, hitting the front door so hard it rattled. He swung it open into the night, scanning the yard, the street, the shadows.
Ella ran to her window and looked down.
Nothing.
No silhouette.
No man.
No movement.
Just empty darkness where Jasper had been seconds before.
Ella whispered to herself:
"He's getting bolder."
Ben stood in the driveway, fists clenched.
And though the street was empty…
They both knew Jasper hadn't left.
He was just getting started.