Page 36 of Stalked
I force myself forward, each step putting necessary distance between us, between now and then, between the woman I've become and the girl who once surrendered everything to Vane Blackwood.
14
VANE
Iwatch her walk away, the sway of her hips like a pendulum counting down the moments until she's mine again.
She thinks she escaped me. She's wrong.
My phone buzzes—another update from my private investigator. I may have had to stalk her on a budget the first year after she left, checking her social media. Still, as soon as Xavier accessed our trust, I had her entire life at my fingertips. I knew every apartment she's lived in, every job she's held, every man she touched. I have files. Pictures. Data. A digital shrine to her existence, accessible only to me.
I scroll through recent photos—Lia entering her new apartment, Lia at the gallery, Lia buying coffee. Such mundane moments, but I consume them all.
College was the first test of my commitment to my goals. When that journalism major started getting serious with her sophomore year, it took one night of hacking his phone, a few fabricated dick pics sent to the Columbia admissions officer, and his academic career crumbled. Lia cried for a week. I watched from a café across the street.
Then came the investment banker three years later. Handsome fucker thought he could build a life with her. One hired escort, a hotel room rigged with cameras, and carefully leaked evidence of hisinfidelitysolved that problem.
But then Lia changed strategies. No more relationships—just The Red Room.
My jaw clenches, remembering the day I discovered her membership at that exclusive sex club. The most secure, private playground for Manhattan's elite to explore their darkest desires. Despite my resources and connections, I couldn't penetrate their security. Couldn't see what she did inside those walls. Couldn't control who touched her.
For five years, I've failed to access what happens behind those doors. Five years of knowing Lia gives herself to strangers while I'm left in the dark. My fists tighten until my knuckles turn white.
But she's home now. Back in Ravenwood, where she belongs. Back where I can touch her. See her. Have her.
The sex club was her final act of rebellion. Her last illusion of freedom.
I had to buy the fucking gallery. That's what it took to get her back to Ravenwood. The purchase itself was easy—money is no longer an obstacle for us—but arranging for Elliot to hire her without arousing suspicion required finesse.
“She has an impressive resume,” Elliot had said during our meeting, spreading Lia's portfolio across my desk. “Gallery management experience in Manhattan, connections to emerging artists, exceptional taste. Why exactly do you want her specifically?”
I'd merely smiled. “Just make her an offer she can't refuse.”
The salary we dangled was obscene—three times what she made in New York. She never suspected I was the puppet master pulling the strings to bring her home.
Now, with the Hunt only three weeks away, everything is falling into place. I've watched her evolve from that stubborn, brilliant girl who refused to admit she wanted me into the confident, sophisticated woman who thinks she's built a life beyond my reach.
She has no idea that I've been directing her path all along, eliminating obstacles and creating opportunities that would eventually lead her back to me.
As second-in-command of the Blackwood empire, I've earned my reputation through blood and brutality. I'm no longer the boy she fucked after prom. That boy had potential, but he was still finding his way. That boy let her leave.
The man I've become takes what he wants.
And I want Lia Morgan.
In three weeks, during the Hunt, she'll realize the truth—that every choice she thought was hers was actually mine. Every path she took led her right back to me. The freedom she's cherished has always been an illusion.
I'm done watching from the shadows. I'm done stalking her from afar.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I'm walking away from where Lia stormed off. I glance at the screen—Xavier.
“What?” I answer, my voice rougher than intended, my mind still on Lia.
“We need you at the east-side warehouse,” Xavier says, his tone clipped and businesslike. “The carnival crew's making a delivery. Need someone to oversee the handoff.”
I run a hand through my hair, glancing once more in the direction Lia disappeared. “Can't someone else handle it?”
“Knox is already on his way, but I want two of us there.” There's a pause, then, “Problem?”
