“Your behavior is irrational, and you should stop immediately.”At two o’clock in the morning, as I stepped out the front door of my studio, Julian’s voice echoed out from the darkness. He was leaning against his black Maybach, the cigarette between his fingers burned to the end.For the past seven days, he had been like a ghost, appearing right on schedule everywhere I went. He didn’t make a scene or cause a fuss. He simply stared at me intently with bloodshot eyes.“Tracking someone is illegal, Mr. Stewart,” I said, pulling my shawl tighter around my shoulders. I didn’t even glance at him as I walked straight toward the cab waiting at the curb.“You’ve stayed up late for three nights in a row, and your daily caloric intake is double the recommended limit,” Julian said as he strode over in front of the car. “Your body is deteriorating rapidly. You need to go to sleep immediately.”He was trying to use his twisted logic to control me again, and there was a trace of panic in his
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