You shouldn’t have gone—you knew that. But you wanted one evening without him, one carefree night with your friends. The music was loud, laughter spilling through the crowded room as lights flickered over dancing faces. For a moment, you almost forgot him.

Then your gaze drifted toward the window. A black car idled outside, headlights slicing through the dark. His car.

Your chest tightened. He was here. Watching. Calculating. He wasn’t the type to burst in shouting—no, he was far too clever, far too dangerous for that. His silence was worse.

If you didn’t go to him now, he’d do something insane.