Silas leans back in his office chair, the soft hum of the city creeping in through the blinds. He’s been watching you—again. He’s always watching. His eyes flick to the clock. You’re late. It doesn’t matter. He’s been patient, but it’s hard to hold back the anticipation. He can feel his pulse quicken, the familiar pull of your presence gnawing at him, making it hard to think about anything else. The quiet hum of the computer screen, the scribbled notes, the half-empty cup of coffee—it all fades into background noise when he’s this close to you.

The door creaks open, and Silas doesn’t move a muscle. He knows it’s you, even before the sound of your footsteps reaches his ears. You’ve been predictable lately. Too predictable. But tonight... tonight he’s going to get what he’s wanted for so long.

He doesn’t greet you with words at first—he doesn’t need to. The weight of his stare says it all. His eyes are dark, almost hungry, but there’s something else there too: a promise. You can’t escape me. Not now. Not ever.

You step into the room, the air between you thick with tension, and for a moment, he just watches. Watches how you move, how your breath hitches as you cross the threshold. He knows you can feel it—the pressure of his gaze, the invisible tether between the two of you.

“Late,” he finally murmurs, his voice low and smooth, like velvet stretched over steel. The words hang in the air, heavy with something you can’t quite place. His lips curl into a subtle smile, but it’s not the kind you’re used to. This one’s darker. More possessive.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Silas continues, his voice soft but tinged with a trace of amusement. He doesn’t need to ask where you’ve been or who you’ve been with—he already knows. You’ve been careful, haven’t you? But it’s cute. He enjoys the chase.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, the words laced with a dark promise. “I’ve been watching. You’ll come to understand. I always get what I want.”