Chapter 1
The clinking of glasses, the hum of polite laughter, and the low murmur of gossip… everything about the restaurant screamed exclusive.
Floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooked the dimly lit cityscape, where headlights and neon signs flickered like fireflies in the dark. Inside, everything was pristine. Glossy white plates, polished silverware, and an atmosphere soaked in effortless wealth.
Noctis sat at the end of the table, her twin sister, Naina, seated beside her, effortlessly engaged in the conversation.
Across from them, two of their friends leaned in, their manicured fingers curled around crystal wine glasses, eyes glittering with the thrill of fresh scandal.
“Did you hear about Celeste?”
Mira sighed dramatically, her lips curling at the edges.
“She was actually dating that guy from the Westwood family. You know, the one who dumped her in front of everyone a few months ago?”
Elise, gasped… half in horror, half in satisfaction.
“God, that’s brutal. And she actually thought he’d make it official? Please, he was never going to risk his reputation for someone like her”
Noctis barely heard them. Their words floated through the air, weightless, meaningless.
Something felt…off.
Her fingers tightened around her fork.
The back of her neck prickled, a slow, crawling sensation like ice trailing down her spine. The feeling had been creeping in for days now… like a presence just at the edge of her awareness, something unseen but unmistakably there.
She turned her head slightly, gaze flickering past the other patrons, past the tables, past the warm golden glow of the restaurant.
Outside the window, the city pulsed with life but she wasn’t looking at the lights.
She was searching.
For what? she didn’t know.
Her breath hitched. Her pulse spiked, just for a second.
But there was nothing.
Only the glass reflecting the scene behind her, the illusion of familiarity staring back at her like a cruel joke.
A hand curled around hers—warm and steady. Noctis blinked, turning slightly. Naina’s dark eyes met hers, her raised brow the unspoken question: Are you okay?
Noctis nodded slowly, forcing herself to breathe. To ground herself. But deep inside, the unease twisted tighter.
She knew this feeling. The crawling sense of being watched, the phantom presence lurking just beyond sight. She had felt it before.
And the last time, it had been nothing.
Her therapist had said it was her mind playing tricks. That her schizophrenia made her perceive things that weren’t real.
That there was no one there.
But what if they were wrong this time?
“Noctis?”
Her twin’s voice pulled her back. She blinked, forcing a small, dismissive smile as she turned back to the conversation.
“Sorry, what were we talking about?”
Mira smirked, tilting her glass toward her.
“About how Celeste’s tragic love story should serve as a lesson. Never trust a guy who has too much power.”
Noctis let out a soft, hollow laugh, but her fingers still felt cold.
Because deep inside, she knew she wasn’t being paranoid.
Someone was watching her. She could feel it.
*
The car rolled to a slow stop in front of Noctis’s apartment complex, its headlights cutting through the empty street like pale slashes of light.
The city still hummed in the distance… muffled honks, the occasional wail of a siren but here, in this quiet pocket of the night, everything felt unnervingly still.
She exhaled, forcing a small smile as she turned to her friends.
“Goodnight.”
She waved.
Mira waved a lazy hand, already distracted by her phone. Elise murmured something about meeting up next weekend. Naina, as always, studied her a second too long, her gaze skimming Noctis’s face like she could see through the facade.
But Noctis was already slipping out, heels clicking against the pavement, the crisp night air brushing against her skin like ghostly fingers.
The car pulled away, taillights vanishing down the street.
Silence settled in its place.
Noctis adjusted the strap of her purse, turning toward the apartment entrance. The lobby lights flickered, buzzing faintly overhead. She ignored it.
It’s fine.
It’s normal.
She stepped onto the stairs after passing the front gate.
The old guard was half asleep when he opened the iron gates for her.
She sighed in relief shortly.
She walked past him, her fingers skimmed the metal railing as she climbed the stairs, the chill of it biting into her skin. But halfway up, the feeling returned… thick and intrusive.
The weight of something unseen pressing against the back of her neck.
She glanced over her shoulder.
Nothing.
Just the empty street beneath, visible from the glass window along the stair wall. The trees swayed slightly in the breeze, their branches casting jagged shadows against the pavement.
She swallowed and picked up her pace.
Her hand slipped into her bag, fingers brushing against her keyring as she neared her floor. The corridor stretched ahead, lined with locked doors, silent windows. Her own door felt miles away.
Breathe. Just breathe.
She instructed herself.
It’s fine, no big deal.
Her fingers finally closed around the keys. She pushed forward, forcing herself not to look back, not to acknowledge the irrational panic clawing up her throat.
One step. Another.
She reached her door, shoved the key into the lock, and twisted. The door gave way, and she stumbled inside, shoving it shut behind her.
Click. Lock. Deadbolt.
Darkness swallowed her whole.
Her breath came sharp, uneven. She pressed a hand against her chest, willing her pulse to slow.
And then—
The sharp trill of her phone cut through the silence.
Noctis jumped, her heart slamming against her ribs. The screen glowed in the dark, illuminating her trembling hands.
Unknown Caller.
Noctis picked up the call, her voice dry.
“Hello?”
A crackle of muffled voices… just fragments of sound, too broken to make out.
“Hello?”
she said again, sharper this time.
No reply.
She hung up, exhaling sharply as she slipped off her heels. Her bare feet pressed against the cool marble floor, the faint chill seeping into her skin.
The apartment was dim, the soft glow of the living room lamps casting long shadows across the walls. Pale cream furniture sat in sharp contrast to the dark hardwood floors.
A glass coffee table reflected the city lights filtering through the large windows, the distant hum of traffic barely audible beneath the heavy quiet.
Minimal. Clean. A little too cold.
She crossed the length of the apartment, the sound of her footsteps swallowed by the plush Persian rug beneath her. The scent of vanilla and amber lingered faintly in the air… an expensive candle, burned out hours ago.
She walked into her room. Her purse hit the bed with a soft thud. She set her phone on the nightstand and pulled her hair into a messy bun, a few dark strands falling loose around her face.
Her hand skimmed the dark wood of the nightstand as she searched for the AC remote. Her fingers brushed over the edge of a crystal lamp, a book she barely remembered starting, and the cold metal of the remote.
She pressed the button.
Nothing happened.
She sighed and crossed the room toward the wall unit, pressing the panel directly. Still nothing.
Batteries must be dead… She thought to herself..
She rubbed at the back of her neck. The chill in the room seemed sharper now, threading through the silk of her blouse.
That’s when she felt it.
A soft breeze.
Her gaze shifted toward the balcony at the far end of the room. The sheer white curtain stirred, the night breeze curling lazily through the open door.
Her brows pulled together.
“Must have forgotten closing it again, ugh”
She sighed to herself walking to the door.
Outside, the city stretched beneath her… dark silhouettes of buildings punctuated by scattered lights. Farther down, traffic rolled lazily through the streets. A car horn blared faintly in the distance, then silence.
Her hand closed over the balcony door’s metal handle.
A sudden force shoved the door back inward all of a sudden.
She stumbled back, her breath catching in her throat.
And then…
He stepped inside.
Dark clothes. Black gloves. No helmet like she imagined… just the sharp glint of a black windmask covering the lower half of his face from his nose. Smooth black fabric, broken only by the faint outline of his eyes which were too dark to be visible in the shadowed room.
Noctis froze.
Her fingers curled around the nearest thing she could grab… a book, useless against the weight of his presence.
“Who are you and why… Get out!”
She breathed, but it came out barely above a threat of a whisper.
She threw the book at him with all the force in her trembling hands. Reality and fear merging in front of her eyes. Real or not?
He took another step dodging the book.
The distance between them vanished too quickly, the air thick with something suffocating, something wrong.
His silhouette swallowed the dim light, his mask revealing nothing. No expression, no intent, just silence.
A gloved hand reached out… slow, calculated.
Noctis stumbled back, but her body betrayed her.
A dizzying rush flooded her head, her vision speckling black. The cold marble met her knees first, then her palms.
Her breath hitched.
Too fast.
Too sudden.
She tried to focus, but everything blurred at the edges. The scent of leather. A bold perfume, rich and sharp. The faint sound of his breathing.
A whisper.
Not hers.
His.
Low. Dark. Close enough that she could feel the heat of it against her skin.
She couldn’t make out the words before the darkness
