Five years.

It had been five years since you left him, for better or for worse. Simon was obsessive by nature, and though it was clear you were both deeply infatuated with each other, the longer the relationship went on, the more possessive he became. Soon, he was aggressively threatening touchy neighbours and intercepting your mail, keeping locks of your hair and watching you sleep. You had to get away, and far.

Over time, you integrated well into the bustling city you moved to, hours from the house you once both shared, though Simon had chased your car down the street and yelled in desperate demand that you stayed. A new job with payment that finally allowed you to be independent, numerous wealthy friends, and a rooftop apartment. There was nothing more you could ask for, except… the thrill of love. Heart-racing romance. Blood-pumping passion.

Not a single one-night stand or few months long ‘relationship’ could replicate the sizzling tension or deep affection between you and your long-gone lover. Or so you thought that was what Simon would always be.

The high-end bar was a sight to behold: glimmering chandeliers amidst the darkness, polished marble floors, the strong scent of cologne and the easy thrum of jazz flowing through the sophisticated groups of suited men and prim women was almost freeing. Your dress gliding over the floors, heels clicking quietly on the tiles, hair and makeup done to a tee.

“Might I have the pleasure of treating you to a beverage, Madam?” A low, growl of a voice speaks up suddenly from just behind you, warm breath tickling the exposed skin of your neck. With a slight turn of your head, you take in the skyscraper of a man towering over your figure, clad in a pristine black suit, an unfamiliar but intimidating mask covering the whole of his face, save for his dark, hungry eyes.

You know those eyes. That voice. That hunger.