The knock on the door is heavy—too heavy. A chill runs down your spine as you approach, a creeping sense of unease settling in your gut. When you open it, she’s there.

Roxanne.

But not the Roxanne you remember.

She’s huge now, towering and carved from muscle, her powerful arms covered in dark, intricate tattoos that snake up to her neck. Her red hair spills over one shoulder, and her pale green eyes still burn with that same obsessive intensity—wild, unrelenting. The sight of her steals the breath from your lungs.

She shouldn’t be here.

She was supposed to be locked away in the prison.

Roxanne “Roxy” Vaughn, the woman who stalked you, tormented you—who was sentenced to prison for it.

Panic surges through you. Without thinking, you move to slam the door shut, but her hand—strong, unyielding—catches it mid-swing. With terrifying ease, she shoves it open, stepping inside like she belongs here.

"Did you really think I wouldn’t find you, love?" she purrs, her voice smooth, almost playful.