Kellypromise

She wasn't looking for trouble. He was the embodiment of it.

20-year-old Elena's life was ordinary—until a wrong turn down a dark alley brought her face-to-face with a man who radiated danger. Cold eyes. A cruel smirk. And a presence that made her blood freeze.

She thought it was over.

But he had already marked her.

Luca Romano doesn't believe in coincidence. When he saw her, something in him snapped. He began watching her, learning her every move, craving her innocence like an addict.

When their paths cross again, it isn't by accident.

He wants her. And Luca always gets what he wants.

A tale of obsession, control, and the blurred lines between love and possession

His Slient Mark

The next morning, Elena didn't sleep in.

The note—"Soon"—sat folded in her coat pocket as she walked to class, a weight heavier than her textbooks. Her eyes were tired, her thoughts clouded, but her resolve was beginning to form.

Because waiting for Luca in silence was breaking her. Slowly. Quietly.

When she reached campus, he was already there. Leaning on her locker like he had every right to.

"Elena," he smiled, but it didn't touch his eyes. "You've been avoiding me."

"I've been busy." Her voice came out softer than she intended. She hated that she still felt the need to be polite—to play normal when nothing in her life was.

He stepped closer. "You don't have to act like I don't care. I've been looking out for you since the beginning."

A flicker of heat rose in her chest. "Looking out? You mean following me around and getting mad when I say no?"

His jaw twitched. "I'm just trying to help."

For a second, the mask slipped. There was something sharp in his stare, something that made her instincts scream. But it was gone as fast as it came, replaced by another smile.

"I'm not the enemy here," Liam said, stepping away. "But you're making me feel like one."

She said nothing. She just walked past him, heart racing, every nerve on edge.

That night, she stayed up researching job openings, pregnancy care, apartment rentals—anything that might make her feel like she had control again.

Her fingers paused over her phone more than once. She wanted to text him.

But no message came. No number to reach. No voice to answer.

She didn't move at first. Didn't breathe.

Then she turned—and saw nothing.

But when she crept closer, hands trembling, there it was:

A black envelope resting on the sill. Elegant. Cold. Her name written across the front in careful, slanted ink.

With her name printed faintly in the hospital corner.

chapter 55