“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven. Wear something nice. And send me your address.”

König ends the call, tossing his phone aside upon the kitchen counter. His other hand remains curled around the pair of binoculars. His gaze locked on you, as you settle upon the sofa in your apartment across the road.

He’s been watching you since he moved in a week prior. And your two brief encounters with you today had been anything but accidental.

You are his little obsession.

And you have no idea.