Chapter 3 Unwanted company

Alina stared at Damien's phone like it might burn her.

She shouldn't be with you. He's coming.

The message blurred as her heart slammed against her ribs. "That's not funny."

"I know," Damien said quietly, locking the screen. "And it's not a joke."

He looked calm, too calm-and that scared her more than the message. Because people only looked like that when they were used to this kind of threat.

"I-I need to go," she mumbled, grabbing her bag.

"Alina-"

"No." She stepped back. "Whatever this is, I'm not part of it."

"You already are."

She stopped cold.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Damien ran a hand through his hair, frustration flashing across his face. "You don't just 'get found' by someone like this. He doesn't pick names from a phone book. He studies. He waits. And he chooses."

She laughed, but it came out wrong-nervous, sharp. "Are you trying to freak me out?"

"No." He met her eyes. "I'm trying to keep you alive."

That silenced her.

The cold wind slithered between them. In the distance, the city carried on like it always did-uncaring, busy, loud.

But around them, everything was still.

Alina tightened her grip on her bag. "Why me?"

"I don't know," Damien admitted. "But I think you've been watched for longer than you realize."

A chill ran down her spine.

---

She didn't go home that night.

She couldn't.

Instead, Damien drove. Not to a hotel. Not to his place. But somewhere... strange.

An old building with dark windows and no name.

"A friend's," he said before she could ask. "She's out of town. You'll be safe here."

Alina stepped out slowly, staring up at the building. The wind whistled through the alley beside it.

"How do I know this isn't just some elaborate kidnapping?" she muttered, half-joking.

Damien smiled faintly. "If I wanted to kidnap you, Alina, I would've done it yesterday. Or at lunch. Or in the middle of your rant about bad coffee."

She gave him a look. "That was not a rant."

"Mm. Okay." He unlocked the door and pushed it open.

The place smelled like lavender and old wood. The lights inside were soft, warm. Nothing threatening-just clean furniture, throw pillows, a blanket tossed over the arm of the couch.

Too normal. Too safe. It made her suspicious.

"You trust people easily," she said.

"No," he replied. "I just know how to read them."

He handed her a new phone. Sleek. Black. No cracks.

She frowned. "Where'd you get this?"

"I have connections."

"Is that code for 'I stole it'?"

He smirked. "Do you want it or not?"

She took it. Of course she did.

---

That night, she lay awake on the guest bed, staring at the ceiling. The silence was louder than the city.

What did he mean, 'He's coming'?

She didn't even know who he was. She barely knew Damien.

And yet... she trusted him more than most people she'd known for years.

Which, logically, was insane.

She rolled over, tugging the blanket tighter, but sleep still didn't come.

Not until after midnight.

And even then-it didn't last.

---

A sound woke her.

Click.

Like a door latch.

Alina sat up instantly.

The room was dark, the hallway beyond the cracked door even darker. No voices. No footsteps.

She slid out of bed, grabbing her new phone. No messages. No alerts.

Then-

A buzz.

One notification.

Unknown Number: Still think he's safe?

Her blood turned to ice.

The photo came a second later.

Her. Sleeping.

From across the room.

Alina choked on a breath and spun around-nothing.

Nobody.

She turned on every light and ran to the door. Locked. Bolted. No signs of entry.

But someone had been there.

Someone had watched her.

And worse... someone was still playing with her.

---

Damien was already awake when she stormed into the living room.

He took one look at her face and stood. "What happened?"

She held out the phone with shaking hands. "This. I got this."

He looked at the photo. His jaw clenched. "Where's the original phone?"

She hesitated. "At home."

"Is it password protected?"

"Yes."

"Not anymore," he said grimly. "He cloned it. He has access to everything."

Alina's stomach dropped.

"But how-?"

"You said you were at a café the night we met, right? Free Wi-Fi?"

She nodded.

"Open networks. It's how he gets in. One connection, one second-that's all he needs."

"But why me?" she asked again, louder this time. "Why not someone else? What did I do?"

Damien didn't answer.

Because this time, he did know something.

And he wasn't saying.

"Damien," she pressed. "Tell me. Please."

He hesitated.

Then: "You look like her."

Alina froze.

"Who?"

"My sister."

A silence heavier than thunder filled the room.

He sank onto the couch like he'd just aged ten years.

"She disappeared three years ago. Same texts. Same warnings. Same photo from inside her room."

Alina covered her mouth, a chill crawling down her spine.

"I thought it was over," he said softly. "Until I saw you."

---

The new phone buzzed again.

Alina didn't want to look.

But she did.

Unknown Number: She screamed too. Want to know how it ends?

She dropped the phone.

Damien caught it before it hit the floor.

The message was gone.

Erased.

Like it had never existed.