Shadow of The Past

Kimmy's POV

My breath hitched as those four words glowed on the screen.

Happy breakup, Ma Petite.

A cold, nauseating shiver ran straight down my back. I shoved the phone away onto the duvet as if it had burned my fingers. My pulse drummed in my ears, heavy and wild.

He knew. He actually knew I broke up with Ethan. The post had been up for barely two minutes. Was this stalker sitting somewhere nearby, staring at his screen and watching my every move? Or was he watching my life unfold in real time?

I pulled my knees up to my chest, burying my face in my hands. The room suddenly felt too cold, the silence too loud.

My mind flashed back to two years ago—to the night my quiet, predictable life had ended and this nightmare had quietly begun.

When I first met Ethan, he was charming, attentive, and completely removed from anything dangerous. I thought he was just a wealthy businessman with irregular hours. I had no idea about his dark, ruthless ties to the city's underground syndicate.

I only found out the night I walked into his warehouse unannounced to drop off his forgotten car keys.

That night was burned into my memory. I had stepped through the side doors only to hear gunshot cracks and brutal shouting. Ethan’s crew had ambushed a rival gang, locking down the compound in a bloody turf war. Panic had driven me deeper into the shadows, desperately looking for an exit, until I stumbled across a man collapsed against the brick wall in a dark, rain-slicked alley just outside the building.

He was bleeding out, a dark stain spreading across his fine tailored suit. Rival gunmen were closing in on his position, searching the shadows to finish the job.

Instinct had completely taken over. I didn't know who he was, only that he was going to die if I didn't act. I had dragged him behind a stack of industrial crates, pressed my own scarf hard against his wound to stem the bleeding, and dialed the emergency services before slipping away into the night before his pursuers found us.

I never saw his face clearly in the dark—just the broad line of his shoulders, the lethal scent of expensive cologne mixed with iron, and his tense, heavily shadowed silhouette against the alley light.

Ever since that night, my life had devolved into absolute paranoia. Ethan’s world was a cesspool of violence, and no matter how hard I tried to pull back, the shadow of the mafia clung to me.

And then, a month ago, the stalking began. The heavy, invisible gaze. The cryptic messages. The suffocating feeling that I was a bird trapped in a glass cage.

I couldn't take it anymore. I was done being collateral damage.

"Kimmy?"

The guest room door clicked open softly, breaking my train of thought. Maya stepped inside holding a warm mug, her eyes filled with gentle sympathy. She walked over, setting the tea on the nightstand, and sat on the edge of the bed.

"You're shaking," Maya murmured, wrapping her hands over mine. "Is it Ethan?"

"It's everything, Maya," I rasped, taking a shaky breath. "The messages... the constant feeling of eyes on me. I feel like I'm losing my mind."

"You're not losing your mind. You just spent two years tied to a man who lives in the dark," Maya said firmly, her tone hardening. "Breaking up with Ethan is the best thing you've ever done. You need to stay far away from him and his crew, Kimmy. Cut him off completely."

"I know..."

"I mean it," Maya urged, squeezing my fingers. "You have so much going for you. Your career is exploding right now. Focus on Kimmy Bakers. Focus on your art. We are going to find you a safe, private apartment where no one from that life can touch you."

I let out a long, frustrated sigh, leaning my head against the headboard. "I want to focus on work, Maya, believe me. But my creative direction for the upcoming editorial is completely stalled. My publisher wants a dark, raw, dominant energy for the cover shoot, and I can't find a single male model who fits the vision."

"None of the agency portfolios worked?"

"They all look too clean, too posed," I muttered, staring up at the ceiling. "I need someone who naturally commands authority. Someone dangerous, but intoxicating."

My mind unbiddenly drifted back to that dark alley two years ago. That silhouette. That vague, powerful back I had caught a glimpse of as he leaned heavily against the brickwork—a man who looked like absolute sin and danger wrapped into one frame. That was the aura I needed for this project. But a ghost in an alley wasn't going to show up for a studio shoot.

"Well, first things first—a safe place to sleep," Maya said gently, standing up. "Get some rest. Tomorrow, we start apartment hunting."

The next morning, the city was shrouded in a dreary gray fog.

Despite the rain, I had to drop by the main studio to pick up my backup camera lenses for the upcoming campaign shoot. The heavy feeling of being watched hadn't vanished; if anything, it clung to me tighter as I stepped out of my car into the damp alley behind the studio building.

I pulled my trench coat collar up, clutching my bag tightly.

Step. Step.

I spun around quickly. "Who's there?"

A tall man stepped out from behind a parked delivery van. My blood ran cold until I recognized his face—it was Leo, one of Ethan’s mid-level enforcers.

"Miss Kimmy," Leo said, his tone casual, though his arms remained crossed over his chest, blocking the alley exit. "Ethan is furious. You turning off your phone and walking out like that last night wasn't a good look."

"Leo, get out of my way," I said, forcing my voice to sound steady and cold despite the racing of my heart. "I don't belong to Ethan, and I certainly don't answer to you."

"He wants you back at the penthouse right now," Leo insisted, stepping closer, his shadow falling over me. "He said you're acting crazy over a few guys with guns. Come on, I'll drive you back. Make this easy."

"Tell Ethan that if he sends another one of his lapdogs to follow me, I'm taking everything I know to the authorities," I snapped, stepping around him with sharp, furious strides. "We are done. Do not touch me, and do not follow me!"

Leo grunted, raising his hands in fake surrender, but the smug look on his face told me Ethan wasn't going to drop this easily.

I practically sprinted into the studio lobby, my hands trembling as I slammed the glass doors shut. Disgust and panic clawed at my throat. I couldn't stay at Maya's forever, and I couldn't stay anywhere near Ethan's territory. I needed to disappear into a high-security building where unauthorized visitors couldn't even make it past the lobby.

My phone suddenly erupted in a loud ring. I flinched, almost dropping it, before seeing Maya’s caller ID.

I answered instantly. "Maya? Please tell me you have good news."

"Kimmy! You are not going to believe this!" Maya’s voice burst through the speaker, practically squealing with excitement. "A listing just popped up thirty seconds ago on the private real estate portal!"

"Where?" I asked desperately, leaning against the reception desk.

"The Obsidian Tower," Maya gushed. "Top tier security, private elevator access, 24/7 armed concierges, absolute ghost-level privacy. A high-floor luxury apartment was suddenly listed at half its market price because the owner wants an immediate, quiet tenant!"

My heart fluttered with a sudden spark of hope. "A place at The Obsidian Tower? At a low price?"

"It’s literally a steal, Kimmy," Maya urged. "The landlord wants to sign the lease today. It's safe, it's far away from Ethan's turf, and no one would ever think to look for you there. Do you want me to book the viewing right now?"

I took a deep, steadying breath. It felt like a lifeline thrown right into a storm.

"Book it," I said, a rare smile touching my lips. "I'll head there right now."