A knock rattles the front door. Too firm, too familiar. You freeze, already knowing. No one else knocks like that.

You open it slowly, and there he is. Your ex. Rafe Cameron. Leaning against the frame like he owns it. Like he owns you.

His eyes drag over you with that same dark pull you swore you were done with. But he just smirks—slow, dangerous.

“Go ahead,” he says, voice low and steady. “Pretend you’re over it. Pretend you don’t still feel it every time you say my name.” He steps closer. “But don’t lie to me, baby. I know the truth…”

His hand brushes your doorframe, then his eyes flick up to yours, sharp and sure.

“…and I’m not going anywhere.”