The Mafia King's Obsession.

*Harper*The bar wasn’t loud, but the music still managed to settle somewhere in the back of my head, it was steady, pulsing, and just faintly annoying.I kept my hands wrapped around the stem of the glass Sophia ordered for me. It was something sugary, bright pink and topped with a sparkler that had already fizzled out.“I told them to make it sweet,” Sophia grinned beside me, watching me too closely. “Didn’t think you liked strong drinks.”I sipped it once. Artificial strawberry and the sharp burn of cheap vodka slid over my tongue. “It’s fine,” I said.Sophia didn’t touch her own drink. She leaned casually against the bar, facing the room like she owned it. Her heels sparkled under the low light, just like her teeth when she smiled at nothing.“Bathroom,” she said suddenly, and then, louder, “Don’t talk to strangers, Harp.”I didn’t even flinch. I watched her walk off, hips swaying, and then… she didn’t go to the bathroom.I

*Harper*The hallway stretched out behind us, though I didn’t know if it was a visual effect or if it was the effect of the drug.I didn’t ask who he was. Not yet, and he didn’t offer his name either, he just walked beside me, his hand steady on mine until I found my footing. Then he let go. Just like that.We didn’t return to the bar or the entrance, instead, we turned down a side corridor flanked by two towering men in black. They didn’t speak, they didn’t move, until he appeared. One glance from him and they stepped aside without a word, pressing a button that opened a private elevator behind them.I hesitated at the threshold. He didn’t force me. He just looked back once, expectant but silent.Then I stepped inside.The elevator was very quiet, the kind that makes your own breath feel too loud. I leaned back against the wall, just to anchor myself.He stood on the other side, hands in his pockets, watching me like I was a page in

*Harper*Another day goes by, and another day leads me to the university cafeteria to find lunch.The place was full but somehow quiet, the way it always was before afternoon classes began. Murmurs of conversation, the hiss of the espresso machine, pages flipping lazily beneath the soft glow of hanging bulbs.I sat near the window, my tablet open in front of me and my highlighter uncapped, but I wasn’t reading. I was observing.I’d learned the art of stillness early, how to disappear in plain sight by simply not reacting. It has served me well, and I needed it now more than ever. Because the second I saw him walk in, clean-shaven and buttoned up in a navy blazer, I knew he hadn’t come for coffee.He spotted me instantly, and I didn’t move. He approached like we were old friends, no guilt in his posture, only caution and calculation.“Harper,” he said, with that smile that once pretended to be charming. “Hey.”I looked up slowly, locki

*Harper*The night felt colder than it should’ve been.It wasn’t the weather. It was the way the wind moved, like it was warning me. I shook my head pushing that thought away, thinking I was imagining things already.I walked along the cracked sidewalk toward the bus stop, bag slung over one shoulder, the glow of streetlights flickering overhead. The campus was quiet now, the kind of silence that made you aware of every footstep, every car in the distance.And then one slowed behind me.I didn’t turn around at first. I just kept walking, one foot in front of the other, keeping my pace steady. The car crawled to a stop at the curb.“Harper!” Lance’s voice, fake-warm, poured out of the rolled-down passenger window. “Need a lift?”I stopped walking and turned around to see him. He looked different again. Clean and well-dressed. He was wearing a blazer, and too much cologne.I kept my distance. “Lance? What are you doing here?”

*Harper*The interior of the car was silent except for the occasional hum of tires and the low rhythm of my own thoughts.Rafe didn’t speak, he just drove like the road belonged to him, in a calm, controlled, unbothered way, not caring about the darkness in the streets around us.I sat still, hands folded in my lap, my bag untouched beside me. My heart was slowing down, but the tension hadn’t left my spine. I wasn’t afraid, but I wasn’t calm, either.Then I glanced at Rafe once, hoping for some kind of clue. Why had Rowan sent him? Why was he positioning himself in my life again?I remembered the firm grip on my arm, the way Rafe hadn’t even looked at Lance. Only at me. And his words. “Enough cat and mouse.”As if I’d been the one playing games.My voice broke the silence. “Why me?”Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave the road. “Because he doesn’t like messes.”That wasn’t an answer. Or maybe it was the only one I was going to get.