Chapter Two: The File

**Amelia’s POV**

The folder was heavier than it should have been. It shook in my hands. Knuckles white, my hands clenched tighter.

 “I shouldn’t be seeing this… but why? Why are my photographs here? And that note. What does it mean? My voice broke in dread silence. The words slammed off the walls like ghosts.

I glanced through the pictures again, my lungs shallows. Park benches. Cafes. My college. Photographs of private times taken from afar.

 Could Nico have been there. Watching me from afar ?

The thought hung to me like smoke. However, if he had been watching me all along, why did he behave as though I were a stranger earlier? Or was that part of the game as well?

 Signed: V.

I looked at the name until the ink smudged. My skin crawled. My pulse sped.

 Who is V?

The question echoed in my head again. Until a gentle click brought me back to reality. My back stiffened. I discarded the folder immediately. Like a hot coal, it slid out of my grasp and softly fell on the table. A photograph slid onto the floor.

I fell backwards, squeezing my chest. It felt like my lungs stopped functioning.

 “Amelia, when did breathing get so difficult?” I whispered, placing a palm to my chest as if I might quiet the storm within.

 The lock rotated.

 My feet wouldn’t budge.

 Slow, thoughtful opening of the door.

Nico walked inside.

His black suit had stopped being sharp. His hair looked unkempt, as though he had furiously run his fingers through it. And his knuckles crimson, raw.

Blood.

Like a predator looking over his domain, his eyes swept the room. Then they came across me. I averted my gaze, my heart pounding.

Still, he looked to the folder.

Though his expression didn’t alter, I felt the air me move. Cold. Intense. Suffocating.

“You touched something,” he stated bluntly.

 I made myself speak, my voice trembling. “It fell.”

 And then… click.

 He closed the door.

 The sound cut through the stillness. My abdomen twisted.

 He crouched, grabbed the fallen picture from the floor, then straightened. His face was not crimson. Not now. Simply managed.

 He sauntered past me deliberately, set the folder quietly on the table, and turned to face me.

 “I warned you not to touch anything,” he replied with a chilling tone now. “Didn’t I?” He asked.

“And what will you do about it?” “Punish me? Lock me in a cage?”

 Fists clenched, I stood erect even though my legs trembled under me.

 He made no response. Just looked and stared.

 “You’ve been watching me,” I said, the accusation flowing out. “For how long? Months? Years? That’s not protective, that’s psychotic.”

 His mouth shuddered. He nodded his head. “I am not indebted to give you answers.”

 I let out a bitter laugh, one that sounded far too loud for the room. “You don’t owe me answers? You believe you may possess me, cage me, control me, and just walk away without giving me any explanation?”

Like he was fighting the impulse to smash something possibly me, his hand flexed by his side.

 “I’ve been watching you,” he said at last, voice subdued.

 “Why?” My voice sunk to a whisper. “Why me?”

 For the first time, he averted his gaze as though the floor contained answers. “Your father swore you to me. Five years back.

 I blinks. “What?”

 “You were sixteen; I said no. Too young.” His voice did not mellow. “But just in case, I kept tabs on you.”

 I retreated. My skin crawled. “Just in case of what?”

 “Should I change my mind.”

 My knees nearly gave way. “You’re insane.”

 Once, he leaned forward deliberately. “No, Amelia. I am patient.”

 The thunder in my brain was almost deafening. The pictures. The arrangements my dad.

 “You told me that I was not a prisoner…” My voice trembled.

 “But I am precisely that.”

 The understanding cut deeply. He had been examining my life rather than only regulating it now. From the shadows.

Nico's eyes squeezed little. "No, Amelia. You're a riddler. One work I have been wanting to figure out.

 I narrowed my back. “You consider this fate?”

 He walked closer. Too close.

 He responded, voice cutting like cracked glass: "No." Fate doesn't unite people like us." Revenge does.”

I hardened. “Revenge?”

 Like a wolf circling its prey, his next moves were methodical and measured.

 "I let your father walk free once," he said in a low tone. "That was my mistake."

 He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from off my shoulder. He touched disturbingly gently.

 “But you….” His fingers rested on my shoulder. “You were the thing he concealed best. His most priceless secret.”

 His eyes turned black. "Now, you belong to me."

 Tears burned my eyes. Not from fear, but from something far more terrible. A stark reality. I wasn't just a girl stuck in a violent man's home.

 I was a weapon.

 One molded from secrets I never realized existed.

 Then his phone buzzed.

 He removed his hands from my shoulder to his pant suit. Checking his phone . His face flickered.

 He put it back without saying anything, looking at me once more, and he bent near.

 "Stay here," he whispered, his voice like smoke, "and don't even consider opening that folder again."

His eyes sharpened and he stopped for a moment. "If you do, I will see you never read anything ever again."

 Then he turned and left.

 SL AM.

 The door closed behind him. But…he did not lock it.

 Silence came back. I fixed my gaze on the doorknob.

 Open.

 My pulse raced. I dropped to the floor with my knees tucked toward my chest. My arms wrapped around myself like armor.

 My gaze then returned to the folder. Still here. Still risky.

 I long and shaky exhaled.

 I heard it then...faint, far away.

 One voice.

 One female's.

 shouting my name.

 “Amelia!” I stopped.

 I closed an eye. "Wait... I am not sure that voice is familiar." I said aloud, "I don't think I have ever heard a voice like that."

 Would someone else been watching me?

The voice became sharper; it was younger. Familiar in a manner that made my stomach flip.

 My back shivered.

 Another person was here.

 And somehow, I already knew she wasn't somebody I would like.