Mira's POV
I can't move.
The man is halfway across the street now, walking toward my bookstore with long, confident steps. Like he owns the world. Like he knows I'm standing here watching him, frozen with fear.
My brain screams at me to do something. Lock the door. Run. Hide. Call for help. But my body won't listen. I'm stuck behind the counter, gripping the blue mug he sent me, watching him get closer and closer.
He's wearing all black—black shirt, black pants—and he moves like danger wrapped in human skin. Even from here, I can tell he's tall. Powerful. The kind of man who makes you step aside on the sidewalk without him saying a word.
Ten feet from my door now.
My heart pounds so hard it hurts.
Five feet.
I finally find my voice. "Stop!" I yell, even though he can't hear me through the glass. "Don't come in here!"
He reaches for the door handle.
That breaks the spell. I drop the mug on the counter and run. Not toward the back exit like a smart person would. No, I run toward the door to lock it before he gets inside. My hands fumble with the deadbolt, but I'm shaking too hard. The lock won't turn.
The door opens.
He steps inside my bookstore.
Up close, he's even more terrifying. And gorgeous. That's the worst part—he's beautiful in a way that makes you stare even when you know you shouldn't. Dark hair. Sharp jawline. Eyes so blue they look like ice.
Those ice-blue eyes lock onto mine, and I forget how to breathe.
"Mira," he says.
His voice is deep and smooth, like expensive whiskey. He says my name like he's been practicing it. Like he's said it a thousand times when I wasn't listening.
"Get out." My voice comes out as a whisper instead of a shout. "I'll call the police."
"No, you won't." He closes the door behind him with a soft click. "Because you want answers first. You want to know who I am and why I've been watching you."
He's right. I hate that he's right.
"Who are you?" I demand, trying to sound braver than I feel. "Why are you stalking me?"
"My name is Kieran Thorne." He takes one step closer, and I take one step back. "And I'm not stalking you, Mira. I'm protecting you."
I almost laugh. Almost. "Protecting me? You've been spying on me! You sent me that mug! You've been writing creepy notes in my books!"
"Yes." He doesn't even pretend to deny it. "Because someone else has been watching you too. Someone dangerous. And unlike me, they don't want to keep you safe."
The floor feels like it's tilting under my feet. "What are you talking about?"
Kieran pulls out his phone and taps the screen a few times. Then he holds it out to me. "Look."
I don't want to get closer to him. But I need to see what's on that phone. I step forward on shaky legs and look at the screen.
My stomach drops.
Photos. Dozens of photos. All of me.
Me closing the bookstore at night. Me walking to the coffee shop next door. Me sitting in my apartment window with a book. Me sleeping in my bed with my face turned toward the camera.
Someone took a picture of me sleeping.
"Oh my God." My voice breaks. "Oh my God."
"These were taken over the past three weeks," Kieran says quietly. "By someone who hired a private investigator to follow you. Someone who wants to know everything about your life."
I look up at him, and tears blur my vision. "Who? Who would do this?"
His jaw tightens. "I'm still figuring that out. But Mira, whoever it is, they're not just watching anymore. They're getting closer. That's why I had to reveal myself today. I couldn't wait any longer."
My legs give out. I sink onto the wooden stool behind the counter, my whole body shaking. This can't be real. This has to be a nightmare.
"Why would anyone watch me?" I whisper. "I'm nobody. I run a failing bookstore in a small town. I don't have money. I don't have anything worth—"
"You're not nobody." Kieran's voice is sharp, almost angry. "Don't say that."
I look up at him, surprised by the intensity in his tone.
He runs a hand through his dark hair, and for the first time, he looks almost uncertain. "Mira, there are things about your past that you don't know. Things your mother never told you."
My blood turns cold. "My mother? What does my mother have to do with this?"
"Everything." He crouches down so we're at eye level, and his ice-blue eyes soften just a little. "Your mother hired me eight years ago to protect both of you from a very dangerous man. I was younger then. Cocky. I thought I could handle anything."
Eight years ago. That's when—
"The car accident," I breathe. "You're talking about the accident that killed her."
"It wasn't an accident." Kieran's voice is gentle but firm. "Your mother was murdered, Mira. And the man who killed her has been looking for you ever since."
The world stops.
Murdered. My mother was murdered.
"No." I shake my head. "No, the police said it was an accident. A drunk driver hit her. They caught him. He went to prison."
"The drunk driver was paid to do it. Paid to make it look like an accident." Kieran reaches out like he wants to touch my hand, then stops himself. "I was there that night. I tried to save her. I held her while she died, and her last words were about you. She made me promise to keep you safe."
Tears spill down my cheeks. I can't stop them. "You're lying. You have to be lying."
"I wish I was." He pulls out his phone again and shows me another photo. This one is old, the colors faded. It shows a younger version of Kieran—maybe twenty-four or twenty-five—standing next to my mother. She's smiling at the camera, one arm around a teenage girl.
Me.
I'm in this photo. With him. And I don't remember it at all.
"How..." I can't form words. "How don't I remember you?"
"Your mother asked me to stay in the background. She didn't want you to know you needed protection. Didn't want you to be scared." Kieran's expression is pained. "After she died, I stayed away because I'd failed. I couldn't save her, so I didn't deserve to be near you. But I never stopped watching. Never stopped making sure you were safe."
My mind is spinning. Eight years of being watched. Eight years of this stranger following me from a distance.
"The notes," I say slowly. "You've been writing them to... what? Let me know you exist?"
"To prepare you. To help you see that someone cares whether you're okay." He stands up, towering over me again. "Mira, I know this is a lot. I know I should have done this differently. But time's run out. The people watching you now aren't investigators anymore. They're getting ready to make a move."
"What kind of move?"
"The kind where you disappear."
Fear claws up my throat. "Who wants to take me? Why?"
Kieran's phone buzzes. He glances at the screen, and his whole body goes tense. "We need to leave. Right now."
"What? No! I'm not going anywhere with you!"
"Mira—"
"You're a stranger! You just told me you've been stalking me for eight years! Why would I trust you?"
"Because," he says, looking at his phone again, his voice deadly serious, "my security system just picked up three men entering the alley behind your bookstore. They're armed. And they're heading for your back door right now."
My blood freezes. "You're lying. You're trying to scare me into—"
A loud CRASH comes from the back room.
Someone just broke down my back door.
Heavy footsteps thud against the floor, getting closer.
Kieran grabs my arm and pulls me toward the front door. "Move. Now."
But before we can take two steps, a man appears from the back room. He's wearing a black mask and holding something in his hand.
A gun.
Pointed right at me.
"Nobody moves," the masked man says.
Two more men appear behind him. Also masked. Also armed.
We're trapped.
Kieran shifts his body in front of mine, blocking me from the gunmen. His whole posture changes—from intense businessman to something deadly. Something dangerous.
"You made a mistake coming here," Kieran says, his voice cold as winter.
The first gunman laughs. "We're not here for you, Thorne. We're here for the girl. Hand her over, and you get to walk away alive."
"Not happening."
"Then you die too."
Everything happens at once.
Kieran moves so fast I don't see it coming. He grabs a hardcover book from the display table and hurls it at the first gunman's face. The man's gun goes off—BANG—and the bullet hits the ceiling. Plaster rains down.
Then Kieran is on him, fighting with brutal efficiency.
The other two gunmen raise their weapons toward me.
I scream.