I told myself the kiss meant nothing.
I repeated it like a mantra while brushing my teeth, while staring at the ceiling, while trying—and failing—to sleep. But my body didn't believe lies. It remembered the way his hand had rested at my neck, steady and unyielding, like he knew exactly where I belonged.
I woke up with his name on my lips.
That terrified me more than anything else.
My phone lit up just after sunrise.
Him: Did you sleep?
I hesitated before replying.
Me: A little.
Three dots appeared.
Him: You're lying.
My heart skipped.
Me: You don't get to monitor my sleep now.
A pause.
Him: You didn't sleep because you kept replaying last night.
Heat crept up my neck.
Me: You're very sure of yourself.
Him: I'm very sure of you.
I tossed the phone onto the bed like it burned.
I should block him. I should run. Instead, I showered longer than usual, letting the water calm the ache that had settled deep in my chest—a pull I didn't know how to name.
By noon, I was back at work, pretending the world hadn't shifted on its axis.
Then he walked in.
The office didn't announce him. It reacted.
Conversations faltered. Chairs straightened. People stood instinctively as if gravity itself had entered the room wearing a tailored suit and an unreadable expression.
My breath caught.
He didn't look at me right away.
That was worse.
"Good afternoon," my boss said nervously. "We weren't expecting—"
"I know," he replied calmly. "I don't announce myself."
His gaze lifted then, locking onto mine from across the room.
Everything else faded.
He didn't smile. He didn't wave. He just watched me, eyes dark with possession that made my pulse stutter.
"What is he doing here?" I whispered to my coworker.
She leaned closer. "That's him. The man who bought half the building last month."
My stomach dropped.
Bought.
"You didn't know?" she continued. "He owns companies in finance, security, tech. No one knows how deep his reach goes."
My phone buzzed.
Him: Don't look away.
I froze.
He crossed the room then, unhurried, stopping directly in front of my desk. Everyone pretended not to watch. No one succeeded.
"You didn't tell me you worked here," I said quietly.
"You didn't ask," he replied.
"You followed me."
"I protect what's mine."
The word mine sent a thrill through me—followed closely by fear.
"I'm not your possession," I said.
He leaned down slightly, voice low enough that only I could hear.
"You walked into my world the moment you kissed me."
I swallowed.
"You don't get to rewrite my life."
"I don't rewrite," he said calmly. "I remove obstacles."
My boss cleared his throat nearby. "Is there… something I can help you with?"
He straightened, all business now. "Yes. You can approve her transfer."
My heart slammed.
"What transfer?" I snapped.
"To a better position," he said, eyes never leaving mine. "Higher pay. Better security."
"I didn't agree to this."
"You will," he said gently. "You're too visible here."
"That's not your decision!"
He leaned closer again, gaze intense but controlled.
"It is when visibility puts you at risk."
I stared at him, realization dawning.
"You're serious," I whispered.
"I'm always serious."
HIM
She didn't like surprises.
I knew that.
But danger didn't wait for permission.
The man watching her from across the office—the one who thought his interest went unnoticed—had already been flagged. Already investigated. Already marked as a threat.
She didn't need to know that yet.
"Come with me," I said after the meeting ended.
"I'm not leaving my job because you say so."
"You're leaving because I say you should," I corrected. "There's a difference."
Her eyes flashed. "You're controlling."
"Yes."
She opened her mouth to argue.
"And you're still standing here," I added quietly.
That stopped her.
I led her outside, not touching her, letting her follow at her own pace. Control wasn't about force. It was about certainty.
Inside the car, tension thickened the air.
"You scare me," she said finally.
I turned to face her fully.
"Good," I said. "Fear keeps you alive."
"That's not comforting."
"It's honest."
She studied me. "What aren't you telling me?"
I hesitated.
The truth was heavy. Dangerous.
"There are people," I said slowly, "who notice valuable things."
Her brow furrowed. "You're talking about me like I'm an object."
"I'm talking about you like you're rare."
Silence fell.
"I won't cage you," I continued. "But I will not let anyone touch what's mine."
She shivered.
"That's obsession," she whispered.
I met her gaze, unblinking.
"Yes."
HER
We stopped at a rooftop café overlooking the city.
He didn't ask what I wanted. He remembered.
The wind tugged at my hair as he stood beside me, close enough that I could feel his warmth without contact.
"You're everywhere," I said.
"I'm where you are."
I turned to face him. "What happens if I walk away?"
He considered that.
"Then I let you," he said finally. "And I watch the world punish you for it."
"That's cruel."
"That's reality."
His hand lifted slowly, giving me time to step back.
I didn't.
He brushed his thumb along my wrist, where my pulse raced.
"You feel it," he murmured. "This pull. This safety. This fire."
"I feel trapped."
"You feel chosen."
My breath shook.
"And if I choose someone else?"
His jaw tightened—not with anger, but something colder.
"Then I'll destroy the space between you," he said quietly. "And remind you who you belong with."
The possessiveness should have terrified me.
Instead, it wrapped around my heart like a vow.
HIM
She didn't know it yet, but the game had already begun.
A message buzzed on my phone.
Security: He's made contact.
I slipped the phone away before she could see.
"You're thinking too hard," I told her.
"You do that when you're worried."
Her eyes narrowed. "About what?"
"About how deeply this will change you."
I stepped closer, lowering my voice.
"This is your last chance to walk away," I said. "Once others know you're under my protection… there's no pretending."
She searched my face.
"And if I stay?"
I leaned in, my lips just brushing her ear.
"Then I burn the world for you."
HER
That night, alone in my apartment, my phone buzzed again.
Unknown Number: You don't know who you're dealing with.
My heart dropped.
Before I could reply, another message came—from him.
Him: Don't be afraid.
Me: Someone just texted me.
The response was instant.
Him: I know.
Fear curled in my stomach.
Me: How?
Three dots. Then—
Him: Because I'm already handling it.
A chill ran through me.
As I stared at the screen, I realized something terrifying and intoxicating all at once:
Whatever storm was coming…
He was the only one standing between me and it.