The night refused to end.
Even after Jace vanished, Bianca couldn't shake the image of him under the streetlamp-too beautiful, too dangerous, too real. His voice still lingered in her ears, low and commanding, promising more.
But when she blinked, all that remained was the quiet street and the glow of her phone, pulsing with his final message: "Next time, Bianca, you'll follow me into the dark."
She sat on her bed long after Dede forced her inside, long after the curtains were pulled tight. Her phone lay on the nightstand, a small, glowing curse.
Her friend paced the room like a caged animal. "I'm telling you, B, this isn't just some online crush gone wrong. This is obsession. He shows up, disappears into thin air, sends creepy texts-it's classic predator behavior. You need to block him. Delete everything. Now."
Bianca nodded, but her fingers twitched toward the phone. "I know."
"No, you don't," Dede snapped. "You're still thinking about him. I can see it on your face. You want him to text again, don't you?"
Heat crept up Bianca's neck. She looked away, shame coiling in her stomach. "It's not that simple."
"Yes, it is." Dede crossed her arms. "You delete him, and this whole nightmare ends."
Bianca wanted to. She really did. But her heart kept whispering that she'd only be cutting off a part of herself. Jace had slipped into her life like he'd always belonged. And even now, with fear in her veins, she couldn't deny it.
"Just give me until tomorrow," Bianca murmured. "If he doesn't stop, I'll cut him off."
Dede groaned in frustration but relented. "Fine. But if he shows up again, I'm dragging you to the police myself. No more arguments."
Bianca promised, though deep inside she knew it was a lie.
---
The next morning, she woke to the faint sound of her phone buzzing.
Her heart stuttered. She snatched it from the nightstand, praying it wasn't him, terrified it was.
It was Jace.
Her chest tightened as she read the words glowing on the screen:
"Did you dream of me, Bianca? I dreamed of you."
Her throat went dry. She wanted to throw the phone across the room, but instead, her thumb hovered, trembling, over the keyboard.
Why did you disappear last night? she typed before she could stop herself.
The reply came instantly: "To keep you safe."
Her hands shook. Safe from what?
"From yourself. You don't know how much danger you're in."
Bianca's breath caught. She looked around her quiet room, confusion spiraling. Danger? What are you talking about?
No answer. Minutes stretched, unbearable.
She flung the phone aside, running her hands through her hair. "This is insane. I'm insane."
But just as she rose, a chime rang out. A new message.
"Check the book on your shelf. Third from the left."
Bianca froze. Her gaze darted to the tall wooden shelf by her desk. A line of novels stood neatly, spines worn from years of reading.
Her heart pounded. Slowly, with trembling hands, she reached for the third book from the left.
It was a worn copy of Wuthering Heights. She opened it-and gasped.
A folded photograph slipped out, falling onto the floor.
Her blood ran cold.
It was a picture of her. Taken months ago, at a café near campus. She was laughing, her hair loose around her shoulders, sunlight catching her face.
Bianca's vision swam. How-how could it be there? She had never seen this picture before.
Her phone buzzed. "Told you I was real."
She staggered back, pressing a hand over her mouth. Her mind raced, torn between terror and disbelief. How long had he been watching her? How long had he been here, close enough to slip things into her life without her knowing?
The door burst open. Dede stormed in, mid-sentence. "Okay, I've been thinking, and we need-" She froze at Bianca's pale face and the photo trembling in her hands. "What is that?"
Bianca's lips parted, but no words came out. She handed it to her silently.
Dede's eyes widened in horror. "Oh, no. No, no, no. This is obsession, Bianca. He's not just playing online anymore. He's inside your life."
Bianca shook her head frantically. "I didn't put it there. It just-fell out. And then he-he texted me to look."
Dede grabbed the phone, scrolling through the messages. Her face darkened. "This isn't love. This is control. He wants you scared, dependent. That's how men like him work."
But Bianca wasn't sure. Jace's words didn't feel like control. They felt like protection.
Safe from yourself.
Why would he say that?
Her phone buzzed again. Dede almost threw it, but Bianca snatched it back.
"Trust me, Bianca. The truth is coming. But you have to choose me before it destroys you."
Her fingers trembled. She wanted to scream, to demand answers-but she also wanted to believe him.
"What if he's telling the truth?" she whispered.
Dede stared at her like she'd lost her mind. "Truth? Bianca, he's stalking you, not saving you!"
Bianca pressed her hand to her chest, her pulse racing. "But why do I feel like I've known him forever? Like he's part of me somehow?"
Dede shook her head in disbelief. "That's not fate, B. That's manipulation. You need to wake up."
But Bianca couldn't. Not when every word Jace sent lit up her blood like fire. Not when even the danger felt like destiny.
---
That night, Bianca sat awake long after Dede had fallen asleep on the couch. The room was silent, but her heart was loud, pounding with questions.
Her phone buzzed softly on the nightstand.
"Still awake, Bianca? Step onto your balcony."
She froze. Her chest tightened as her gaze slid toward the glass doors. The curtains swayed faintly in the midnight breeze.
Her heart whispered yes. Her mind screamed no.
Slowly, barefoot, she pushed the curtains aside and stepped into the night.
The city hummed in the distance, a thousand lights flickering like stars.
Then she saw him.
Not across the street this time. Not in a picture.
But standing in the alley below her balcony, looking up at her.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Jace.
He didn't move, didn't speak. Just stood there, his face tilted toward hers, eyes catching the moonlight.
The phone buzzed again. She lifted it with trembling hands.
"Jump, Bianca. I'll catch you."
Her knees buckled. She clutched the railing, torn between terror and a wild, inexplicable desire.
Jace's voice seemed to rise from the shadows, though his lips never moved: "Trust me."
Her pulse hammered, her body trembling as the night held its breath.
And before she could decide, the balcony light flickered-and went out.
Darkness swallowed her whole.
