"It belongs to me."

His voice echoed through the silent corridor—cold, absolute, piercing Emma's nerves like an icy blade.


"I didn't know you—" Her voice trembled uncontrollably.

"A-27."

Those three characters silenced every excuse in Emma's throat. Sanguine Solutions. He wasn't from the agency—he was the "client."


He tilted his head slightly, as if admiring her pale face and terror-filled eyes.

"Elias Thorne."


He offered his name like a weighty gift.

"I am the buyer who savored your 'desperation,' Emma."

The words struck like lightning. Buyer. Sanguine Solutions. Blood.

Understanding dawned. This wasn't some ordinary stalker—this was a Vampire!

Primal fear seized her. Emma's hand flew to her neck, as if fangs had already pierced it. She trembled violently, back pressed hard against the door.

Elias's cold gaze fell on her protective hand. His lips curved in contempt.

"Relax," he whispered, mockery outweighing threat, "I never feed in such… squalid locations."

His words stung like a slap. Not only confirming what he was, but insulting her home in the process.

Emma kept her hand firmly at her throat; the vampire before her radiated overwhelming power, giving her every reason to remain defensive.

Just when she expected him to tear her hand away, Elias stepped back.

The crushing pressure vanished.

He stood with elegant poise several feet away, as if the threatening predator from moments ago had been mere imagination. He gestured toward her door with a graceful "after you" motion.

"Go inside, Emma."

Emma froze, disbelieving.

"Lock your door," his voice carried cold amusement. "Though utterly pointless, it might help you… sleep better tonight."

Both warning and promise. He could enter whenever he wished; he simply chose not to.

Emma needed no further invitation. She jammed the key in, practically fell inside, and slammed the door with a bang, throwing all three locks into place.

She slid down against the door, heart hammering wildly against her ribs.

She strained to hear any sound from the hallway.

Nothing. He'd vanished as silently as he'd appeared.

…………

After that night, Elias Thorne haunted her existence.

Emma barricaded herself inside all Sunday. Her world had shattered completely. Liam's calls and apologetic texts went unanswered. She was trapped between worlds: the "normal" life of disappointment she'd just rejected, and the unfathomable "darkness" that had found her doorstep.

She had to attend classes, had to go to work. Leo's bills wouldn't stop coming just because of her fear.

But Elias was everywhere.

On Monday, she went to her art history class, and a black Bentley was parked outside the academic building. He didn't get out of the car, but she could feel those golden eyes piercing through the window, fixed on her back.

On Tuesday, she went to the library to return books, and Elias was sitting in the reading area, casually flipping through an ancient text about medieval alchemy that she couldn't understand at all. The three tables around him were empty; no one dared to come close.

He didn't say a word. He just existed.

This silent, shadowing possessiveness suffocated her more than any direct threat could.

Wednesday evening, she was working at the coffee shop. This was the most exhausting of her three part-time jobs. She was mechanically wiping the counter, trying to ignore her phone vibrating once again in her apron pocket—without doubt, it was Liam again.

The coffee shop door bell rang.

Emma didn't look up and listlessly called out: "Welcome."

No one answered.

She frowned slightly and raised her head, the cloth in her hand freezing in place.

Elias Thorne had walked in.

He wore a well-tailored dark gray cashmere coat, standing out conspicuously among the students in their plaid shirts and cheap hoodies. As soon as he entered, it was as if all the noisy music and chatter in the café had been sucked away.

Ignoring the counter, he walked straight to a corner booth by the window and sat down.

He didn't order anything.

He just... watched her.

Emma's heart began to race. Her colleague, a girl named Meg, nudged her arm: "My God, who is that? A billionaire who got lost? He hasn't taken his eyes off you since he came in."

"I don't know him," Emma lied, her voice dry.

"Go take his order," Meg gave her a push.

Emma took a deep breath, grabbed her order pad, and walked over like someone heading to the gallows.

"Wel... welcome, what would you like to drink?"

Elias raised his golden eyes. His gaze seemed to caress her, cold and focused, making her feel uncomfortable all over.

"You're wasting your time here." He spoke, his voice not loud, yet clearly cutting through the background music.

"This is my job," Emma said through gritted teeth, "What would you like to order? If you're not ordering, I'll have to ask you to leave."

"I'm here to pick you up."

"My shift doesn't end for another three hours."

"It ends now," Elias stated emotionlessly.

Just then, the coffee shop door chimed again.

Emma turned her head, feeling the last trace of color drain from her face.

Liam walked in.

He looked terrible. His hair was disheveled, his eyes sunken, and in his hand he clutched a bouquet of slightly wilted supermarket roses. He had obviously come to reconcile.

He spotted Emma immediately, and then he saw Elias in front of her.

Liam's expression changed from pleading to confusion, then to wariness. He strode over.

"Emma?" he spoke up, his gaze fixed intently on Elias, "Who is he?"

This was Emma Vance's worst nightmare scenario in life. Her "past" boyfriend from the sunlight, and her "future" predator from the shadows, face to face in a cheap café.

"Liam, you..."

"I came to pick you up after work, Emma." Liam tried to assert his claim, slapping the bouquet down on the counter, forcibly squeezing next to Emma, trying to shield her behind him. "Sir, we're having a conversation, could you step aside?"

Elias finally moved his gaze from Emma, looking directly at Liam for the first time.

What kind of look was that?

Emma's stomach tightened. That wasn't a look meant for a rival in love, it was... the look of someone regarding a small dog blocking their path. Contempt, weariness, not even bothering to be angry.

"Emma." Elias completely ignored Liam, saying to Emma, "Get your things."

"Didn't you hear me?" Liam was completely furious. He puffed out his chest, despite being half a head shorter than Elias. "I'm talking to my girlfriend. I don't care who you are, stay away from her."

"Girlfriend?"

Elias seemed amused by the word. He stood up, and that inhuman pressure instantly enveloped Liam. Liam instinctively took half a step back.

Elias turned to Emma, the corner of his lips curving into a cold arc that held no trace of a smile.

"Your 'pet' is barking."

"What the fuck did you call me?" Liam's face turned the color of pig's liver. Blinded by humiliation and rage, he grabbed Elias's cashmere coat collar.

Several people in the café noticed the commotion and stopped their conversations.

Elias didn't move. He didn't even look at the hand grabbing him.

He merely raised his hand, with a motion that was almost slow, even elegant one might say, and covered the back of Liam's hand.

"Let go," Elias said softly.

"You fucking..." Liam tried to exert force, wanting to pull Elias closer, wanting to punch him.

But his hand seemed as if it were welded to Elias's chest.

Liam's expression changed. He used all his strength, the muscles in his arms trembling, but his hand gripping Elias's collar couldn't move an inch.

And Elias just stood there calmly, as if Liam's struggle was merely a gentle breeze against his face.

Then, Elias began to apply force.

He wasn't "squeezing," but "prying."

Using two fingers, methodically, one by one, he peeled Liam's clenched knuckles away from his coat. Liam's face twisted in extreme pain and humiliation, he let out painful muffled grunts, but he couldn't stop it.

To onlookers, this was just two men shoving each other. Only Liam and Emma, who was right beside them, knew what kind of absolute dominance of force was at play.

When Liam's last finger was pried open, Elias smoothly pushed forward.

Since Liam had been tensing his entire body to resist, this sudden loss of balance caused him to fall backward awkwardly, heavily knocking over a table behind him.

"Bang——!"

The sound of breaking cups and saucers echoed throughout the entire café.

Liam fell to the ground and, amidst the mess, was unable to move due to pain and extreme humiliation.

"Liam!" Emma screamed.

Elias released his grip and, as if he had touched something dirty, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wiped the fingers that had just touched Liam.

He didn't even look at Liam on the ground, but spoke down to him condescendingly:

"Next time, mind where you put your hands."

He turned toward the terrified Emma and extended his hand to her.

"Let's go."

This wasn't a request. It was a command.

Emma looked at Liam, who was groaning in pain on the floor and struggling to get up, then glanced at the unharmed man before her who seemed to be from another world.

Fear overwhelmed compassion. Trembling, she walked around Liam and the debris on the floor toward Elias.

Elias didn't touch her, but she felt as if she was being drawn by an invisible chain. He opened the café door for her, and the cold air from outside rushed in.

She looked back one last time. Liam was raising his head, looking at her with an expression she had never seen before—a mixture of heartbreak and fear—as he watched her choose that monster.