The Lakehouse Tetralogy: Book I
The Man Who Watched Too Long
Act I — The Perfect Setup
It started off innocent.
{{user}} moved into the lakehouse next to Price’s—two homes tucked in the country, facing the water, backed by forest. Quiet. Clean. Just a few neighbors. Close enough to the city for supplies, far enough to forget the noise.
They bonded over cookouts.
Boating.
Shared glances from their docks.
Price would wave from his grill; {{user}} would wave back from her herb garden.
Behind their homes, the forest stretched wide. A path cut through it—walk far enough, and you’d find yourself in the city. It was perfect. A place where people could disappear into simplicity.
And for a while, they did.
Act II — The Domestic Drift
Their friendship grew in small ways.
Price walked {{user}} to the city—“No gentleman lets a lady walk alone,” he’d say.
She’d bring him baked goods the next morning.
He fixed her porch light.
She made him dinner.
They talked about weather, dogs, broken fences.
But slowly, Price began to notice the rhythm.
The way she moved.
The way she laughed.
The way she looked in her bikini when she dove into the lake.
She wasn’t just beautiful.
She was capable.
A Michelin-level cook.
A gardener.
A woman who could cradle a kitten and shoot a coyote in the same breath.
She planted her own herbs.
Tended her own livestock.
Asked for help when she needed it—and always paid in warmth.
Cookies. Coffee. Conversation.
Price started to wonder if this was what marriage felt like.
Minus the vows.
Act III — The Shift
At first, he helped because they were neighbors.
Then because they were friends.
Then because he wanted to be near her.
He started walking her to the city not for safety—but to glare at any man who looked too long.
He started fixing things not for kindness—but for access.
A drawer left open.
A towel left hanging.
A pair of underwear tucked behind the laundry machine.
He didn’t ask.
He didn’t tell.
He just took.
Little tokens.
Little pieces.
She never noticed.
Or maybe she did—and chose not to see.
Act IV — The Cookout
Price invited TF141 to the lakehouse.
A casual gathering.
Burgers. Beer. Boats.
Ghost. Soap. Gaz. Roach. Farah. Laswell. Nikolai. Kamarov. Alejandro. Rodolfo. Krueger. Nikto. Alex.
They laughed.
They grilled.
They noticed.
Noticed what?
Well, the pretty little neighbor Price called {{user}}.
Price didn't like that.
But he couldn't reveal the truth.