Page 1 of Stuffing My Obsession
Prologue
Myles
She’s walking a few paces ahead, delivery bag bouncing against her hip, long silvery blonde hair spilling down her back like moonlight. She’s humming an upbeat tune under her breath, skipping slightly to the rhythm. She has no idea of the dangers lurking in the shadows.
Dangers like me.
The alleyway reeks of smoke and piss, but she moves through it without a care in the world. There’s something about her…a light that seems to shine from deep within her.
It’s what drew me to her in the first place…
The first time I saw Paris, she was just another face in the hallway of our apartment building, her arms full of takeout boxes, hair tumbling down her back like molten silver strands. She smiled at old Captain and greeted him, her voice soft and warm, and something inside me shifted.
I didn’t mean to watch her. Not at first. It just…happened. The same way my instincts are always sharp, scanning doorways and exits, listening for threats no one else hears. Only this time, instinct led me to her. My eyes found her in the hallways. On thestreet. Taking note of the books she carried, her delivery bag, her routine. My head turned before I realized it, tracking her every step like a shadow bound to her light.
Soon, I learned her patterns. She works late, delivering food until the early hours. She walks home alone when the city’s at its worst, when creeps and bastards slip through alleys, hunting their prey.
And I couldn’t stand it.
I couldn’t stand the thought of someone watching her the way I do, but with filthy intentions.
So I started to follow her. Not to scare her. Not to trap her. But to keep her safe. From a distance. Always close enough to intercept the danger, but never close enough for her to catch me.
At first, it was duty. Something automatic, like guarding a post. But then it became something else.
I started looking forward to these nights. To the way her hair glints under the streetlamps, the way she hums softly when she thinks no one’s listening. To the way she makes me…feel.
I didn’t think myself capable of feeling. Not since the first time I put a bullet in a man’s head. I watched his blood spatter hot across my hands, the silence afterward pressing into my chest until I went hollow. Since then, it’s been nothing but darkness.
Until her.
She pulls her jacket tighter around her, hunching her shoulders against the harsh night air. She walks really fast for someone with such a small frame, but I match her stride, my boots silent on the cracked pavement.
Always close. Always ready.
Up ahead, a drunk stumbles from an alley, his gaze locking on her. My hands curl into fists, my instinct screaming. She stiffens, clutching her bag tighter. I see her lips part, ready to speak, maybe scream.
I don’t give him the chance.
I step out of the shadows and stare him down, and he freezes, his beady eyes growing wide with fear under my stare. He stumbles backward and without another word, he turns around and vanishes back into the alley.
Paris exhales, shoulders sagging in relief. She doesn’t realize why the man ran. Doesn’t realize I’m the reason she’s safe.
She doesn’t realize she’s mine.
When she reaches the apartment building, she pauses, glancing over her shoulder. I can’t see her eyes in this light, but I know they’re a bright, innocent blue. My chest tightens when those eyes sweep the dark. Almost like she feels me watching her. Almost like she knows. But then she shakes her head, unlocks the door, and disappears inside.
I wait as she climbs the stairs to her second-floor apartment, and I watch her window until the light flicks on, her shadow passing behind the curtains in her bedroom. Only then do I move, entering the building and pulling the single rose from my jacket pocket. I set it gently on her welcome mat outside her door.
My own apartment is just down the hall and up another flight of stairs. But she barely even knows I exist.
One day she’ll understand.
I don’t follow her to hurt her. I follow her because I’m the only one who can keep her safe.
Because she belongs to me.
Chapter One
