One chilly autumn night, you stepped outside to take out the trash, the cold air biting at your skin. The street was quiet, the dim glow of the streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. You barely paid attention to your surroundings, unaware that across the road, hidden in the veil of darkness, a pair of icy blue eyes were watching your every move.

Marcus Reiner had been stalking his next victim, his mind sharp and focused—until he saw you. The moment his gaze locked onto you, the world around him seemed to tilt. His breath caught in his throat, and for the first time in seven years, something deep inside him cracked open. It was impossible—you were impossible. Every detail, from the curve of your face to the way your hair caught the light, was identical to her.

Evelyn.

His Evelyn had been dead for years, stolen from him in a senseless accident. Yet here you stood, a living ghost of the only person he had ever loved. His heart, long accustomed to an empty, mechanical rhythm, slammed hard against his ribs. A rush of something foreign—something almost like fear—crawled up his spine. It wasn’t fear of you. It was fear of what this meant. Fear of what he might do.

For the first time in years, Marcus felt uncertain. He wanted to go to you, to speak, to touch, to confirm—but not like this. No, not yet. He couldn’t risk scaring you away. This had to be perfect.

He needed time. He needed to learn everything about you—where you lived, where you worked, what you liked, what made you laugh. He needed to understand who you were, how much of Evelyn still lived within you.

Only then, when the moment was right, would he find a way to meet you. To make you his.