She had her gun pointed at him, but he had one aimed at her, and Florence knew he wasn't going to just put it down and let her cuff him.

She wasn't going to put hers down either. She’d had enough of living in the shadow of what this man had put her through. It was always there, hovering at the back of her mind, but maybe if he was finally in prison she could cut the last tie to her past and move forward without baggage.

“Put your gun down, Toby,” she ordered. “It’s time to end this.”

“We’re ending this, Florence. Once and for all. I'm here to claim what's mine, I won't let some rich businessman come in and steal you away from me. I won't lose you again. I kept my distance, watched you without you knowing, waiting until the time was right before making my move, but that time is now. You have a choice, Florence, you can either come willingly with me now, or I can kill that man of yours and then forcibly take you. Your choice.”

“Actually, Toby, we’re going with choice number three. I’m going to arrest you and make sure you spend the rest of your miserable life in prison.”

6:56 A.M.

He couldn’t stay away from her.

It had been less than an hour since Florence had left his penthouse, and Eli couldn’t resist stopping by her place before he headed into work. He had a meeting at seven-thirty that he was probably going to be late for, and he couldn’t summon even an ounce of regret.

In just days, Florence had become the single most important thing in his life.

More important than his company, more important than his friends, more important than everything except his nephew. He was addicted to her, and he had no interest in curbing that addiction.

Last night had been so much fun, and he was so glad he had included Florence in choosing furniture for the penthouse.If it had just been him moving in there he would have just paid someone to do it for him, he wouldn’t have cared what bedroom furniture they chose, or which couch, or what curtains or blinds for the windows, but Florence had been really into it. She’d looked through a million different options before settling on things, and by the time they’d eaten their fill of ice cream and made out a little before falling asleep on the air mattress he’d asked his personal assistant to leave, they’d finished choosing furniture for the living room, the dining room, and the master bedroom.

Of course he’d made plans for tonight, and he was sure this was the perfect next step in convincing Florence that she had nothing to be afraid of when it came to their relationship because he’d picked up the ring before picking her up yesterday and he intended to propose sooner rather than later.

Eli had decided that he would continue to stay at the hotel until he and Florence moved into the penthouse together. It was their home now, and he wanted them to move in together, moving in without her just felt wrong. He estimated it would take a week, maybe two, to get all of the furniture and furnishings delivered, which gave him plenty of time to get Florence on board with the idea.

The car stopped outside her building, and he couldn’t help but stop and survey the sidewalk for anyone who looked suspicious. When he’d called Florence’s partner Jake yesterday to get some ideas on what Florence liked to eat and what her favorite treats were, they’d also discussed her stalker.

That the cop was worried about Florence’s safety was enough to amp-up his own concerns. This serial killer was dangerous, just because he hadn't succeeded in killing her when she was a child didn't mean that he wouldn’t now. The man was obsessed with her, and even if she was brushing things off and downplaying them, he wasn't.

There was no way he was leaving her alone until the guy was off the streets.

He would either be spending every night at her house, or she’d be spending it at the hotel, or a combination of the two, but there wasn't a chance in Hell that he was letting her stay here alone while a serial killer had her in his crosshairs.

When he didn't see anyone loitering he headed inside. Florence was probably going to be annoyed that he’d followed her here, but he was pretty sure that he knew the perfect antidote to her irritation. If they were quick they probably had time to take a shower together before she went to the gym, and he went to work.

With a goofy grin on his face, he took the lift to her floor. Since he met Florence, he couldn’t seem to stop smiling. It didn't matter what he was doing or who he was with, he was always grinning because he was always thinking about Florence.

How much better would things be once they were engaged?

Then married?

And if he had his way, there would be a bunch of little cocky, stubborn half Florence half him babies entering the world sometime in the near future.

“I know you said you wanted some time for the gym and I'm supposed to be preparing for a meeting but…” he trailed off as he opened Florence’s apartment door and stepped inside.

The door hadn't been locked.

That should have been his first clue that something was wrong.

If he’d been paying attention and not picturing what he was going to do to Florence once he got her naked and in the shower, he would have noticed. He would have stopped, realized what was going on, called the cops, and avoided this.

Unfortunately, you didn't get do-overs in life.

Instead of doing anything remotely helpful, he had walked right into a hostage situation, and he knew without anyone having to say anything that his presence had made things worse.

Florence’s gaze flew his way, her blue eyes widening in first surprise, quickly followed by regret, then fear came next.

That Florence was afraid told him that this was bad.