The day should have ended quietly. After the scene with the delivery man, I wanted nothing more than to slip home, curl up with a book, and forget the unease that had been clinging to me all week.
But quiet never lasts. Not anymore.
I stayed later than usual at the office, finishing edits while the floor slowly emptied around me. By the time I gathered my things, the sky outside had deepened into indigo, and the building hummed with that eerie silence of being almost empty.
As I stepped into the elevator, a shiver ran down my spine. I wasn't alone.
The doors slid shut, and when I turned, he was there.
Adrian.
Tall, broad, composed — his presence filled the small space effortlessly. My breath caught, and I stumbled back a step, pressing my bag tighter to my side.
"You—what are you doing here?" My voice came out sharper than I intended.
He didn't answer right away. His gaze swept over me slowly, deliberately, as though he was taking in every detail. "I own the building," he said at last, his tone even. "I have the right to be here."
My stomach tightened. Of course he did.
Still, it didn't explain why he was here. Why he was in my elevator.
"You should be more careful," he continued, stepping closer. His hand brushed the panel as he pressed the button for the ground floor, his shoulder almost grazing mine. "Staying late. Walking alone. You make it too easy for the world to take something from you."
I swallowed hard, my pulse thrumming. "You talk like you know me. Like you… own me."
Adrian's lips curved faintly, though his eyes never softened. He leaned in, his voice a low murmur near my ear. "Maybe I do."
The heat of his breath skated down my neck, and my whole body shivered in response. I hated the way it betrayed me — how even fear couldn't dull the spark that raced through my veins at his closeness.
"Don't—" I whispered, though my voice lacked conviction.
His hand lifted, fingers brushing lightly against my wrist where I clutched my bag. The touch was fleeting, yet it burned like a brand. "You can pretend you don't feel it," he said softly. "But I see the way you look at me. The way you listen, even when you don't want to."
I turned my face away, trying to create space, but the elevator felt too small, too heavy with his presence. My chest rose and fell too quickly, betraying every lie on my tongue.
"You're not safe from me, Elena." His words were quiet, but the promise in them was unmistakable. "And deep down… you don't want to be."
The elevator chimed, doors sliding open. Air rushed in, cool and sharp, but my lungs couldn't find relief.
Adrian stepped out first, glancing back at me with a look that pinned me in place. "Go home, Elena," he said. "I'll see you soon."
And then he was gone, swallowed by the shadows of the lobby, leaving me trembling against the elevator wall, clutching my wrist where his touch still burned.