Stalker

Sera's POV

The black limousine pulled up to our second destination, it was an exclusive, private café, but it had an open space for people to sit out and relax.

According to Adrian, the aim was to show the world that even as a wealthy couple, we were capable of having a casual breakfast in a simple cafe.

The PR team had booked out the entire space though. There were small round tables and velvet chairs, and a breathtaking view of the sparkling river.

A handful of photographers were already set up nearby, snapping photos of us as Adrian stepped out of the car and reached back to offer me his hand.

I swallowed down the knot of nerves in my throat and placed my hand in his. His grip was firm and surprisingly reassuring, despite my raging nerves.

“Just a quick photo session here, then we're done for the day,” Adrian murmured as we walked towards our reserved table. His fingers lightly rested on the small of my back. “Try to act like you're actually enjoying my company.”

“I think that's something I can manage, Mr. Adrian Kingsley,” I fired back, maintaining a bright, radiant smile.

We sat together on the table, sipping coffee while the photographers took shots from a respectful distance. For a few minutes, everything went smoothly. I posed, leaned towards Adrian, laughed softly, and played the role of the glowing new bride perfectly. I was starting to relax, telling myself the worst was behind us.

Then, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

It was a strange, sudden chill—a heavy feeling that someone’s gaze was burning right through me. And it wasn't coming from the photographers, or from Adrian.

My eyes slowly drifted away from the camera lens and scanned the busy street across the river. Pedestrians were walking by, couples were holding hands, tourists were taking pictures. Everything seemed normal…

And then I saw him.

A tall figure dressed in a dark jacket stood completely still by the bridge railing across the street. He wasn't looking at the river. He wasn't taking photos. He was staring directly at me.

His face was hidden beneath a dark fez cap, but my breath caught violently in my throat when I looked at his hands.

He was holding an envelope.

It was cream-colored, thick, and folded in the exact same rectangular shape as the threatening letter currently sitting in the inner pocket of my purse.

My heart slammed against my ribs so hard it felt like a physical punch.

‘Getting married won't give you the peace you think you deserve... Watch your back, Seraphina.’

He knew. Whoever was standing across that river knew I was fake. They had tracked me all the way to Paris, and now they were standing right there, watching my every move.

Panic seized my body. Without thinking, I shot out my hand and gripped Adrian’s forearm, my fingers digging desperately into his sleeve.

Adrian froze.

He felt the violent tremor running through my body. The sudden, rigid tightness in my posture was impossible to ignore. He shifted slightly, turning his eyes to me.

‘Victoria?” he called.

I couldn't speak. My mouth was completely dry. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the man across the street, who slowly lifted the envelope slightly higher in his hand before turning his body and disappearing into the crowd.

“Victoria, look at me,” Adrian commanded, his tone becoming deeply serious.

When I didn't move, he reached up with his free hand and gently cupped the side of my face, turning my head back towards him.

I saw in his eyes as he realized in an instant that this wasn't an act. The fear radiating off me was genuine, raw, and deep.

A tiny frown formed between his dark brows. Instead of brushing off my reaction or getting pissed that I dropped my guard in front of the photographers, the expression on his face changed, becoming more soothing and welcoming.

“Hey,” he whispered softly, his thumb lightly stroking my cheekbone in a movement that felt so gentle it completely caught me off guard. “Breathe, Victoria.”

I drew in a shaky gasp of air, my chest heaving. “I…I …I'm sorry.”

“Look at me, not them,” he instructed quietly. Trying to distract me and break the suffocating tension, he leaned in even closer. His lips brushed right against my ear, his breath warm against my skin.

“If you keep squeezing my arm that hard,” he murmured with a playful voice, “you're going to tear my suit. Now, you're not a dragon, are you?”

The absolute absurdity of what he said sounded so funny.

A sudden, breathless laugh burst out of my throat, real and genuine, completely free of the polished, fake heiress giggles I had been displaying since morning.

My shoulders dropped instantly and my lips curled into a bright, breathless smile as I looked back up into his eyes.

Click. Click. Click.

The photographers leaned in, capturing the raw, electric spark between us, the undeniable chemistry of a husband making his wife laugh from the bottom of her heart.

For three long seconds, our eyes locked and his hand remained resting warm on my face.

“Better?” he asked softly, his eyes searching mine.

“Better,” I whispered, my heart fluttering for a completely different reason now.

“Good. Let's finish up here and get into the car.”

Ten minutes later, the photo session wrapped up.

Adrian guided me back to the waiting car, holding the door open until I was safely inside. He climbed in next to me, and the door slammed shut.

The second the public eyes were gone, the heavy silence returned. But this time, it was different.

My pulse was still racing, and my mind was an absolute mess. I was completely shaken. The memory of that man standing across the river with the folded envelope made ice run through my veins.

Even after I'd done all of Richard's bidding and escaped poverty, I was still not safe. Whoever was monitoring me just proved that they could get me at any time.

I stared out the window, wrapping my arms tightly around myself, my mind spinning out of control.

Next to me, Adrian was unusually quiet. He was sitting back against the leather seat, staring at me with a heavy, piercing gaze that felt like it was stripping away every single layer of my secrets.

“Victoria,” he spoke up finally.

I turned my head slowly to face him, trying to keep my expression completely blank. “What?”

Adrian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, bringing his face closer to mine. His dark eyes locked on mine with stark concentration.

“You weren't acting back there in that cafe,” he said flatly, leaving no room for excuses. “Your heart was beating like a trapped bird, and you looked like you were staring at a killer across that river.”

He narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping into a sharp, demanding tone.

“What was that all about?”