Eden pushed his glasses up by gripping both sides of the frame with his thumb and middle finger. He was only adjusting his glasses, yet the veins along the back of his hand pulsed threateningly.
“I don’t think this is an issue serious enough to start discussing life itself. And besides, treating sex as a means of communication doesn’t strike me as particularly simple either.”
Unlike him, who spoke dryly as though reading from a book, I was highly emotional and my voice kept rising at every turn.
“I don’t care what you think!”
“You wanted to.”
I was the one acting like a finely sharpened blade, yet somehow I was the one getting stabbed. No matter what more I tried, only the frustration of futility waited for me. It mocked me the same way Eden mocked my nickname.
I forced air through my rough throat and spoke.
“Not anymore. Get out! Get out of my car right now!”
He’d practically threatened me for the keys earlier, yet now Eden immediately turned off the engine and handed them back.
“Somerset.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Quinn. Mr. Quinn.”
So now he suddenly listens the second I tell him not to? Since when had he ever obeyed me that well?
“What now?!”
“It’s dangerous wandering around alone late at night. Since you live in such a nice apartment, go home on time for once.”
I scrubbed a hand down my face and glared at him. Absurdly enough, his eyes looked gentle. If my resolve weakened even slightly, I might’ve mistaken him for someone genuinely worried about me.
That would never happen unless the world split in half.
I bit down hard on my lip.
Get a grip. Trusting this traitor is idiotic. Don’t get fooled.
I scolded myself internally while gripping the car key tightly in my hand.
“Being alone is less dangerous than having a stalker attached to me. Don’t think you know everything about me. Do you know what it feels like to be harassed by a stalker? No, you don’t. You don’t know anything.”
But frustratingly enough, Eden knew me well.
He knew I wanted to be alone, while simultaneously not wanting to be alone.
After I kicked him out of the car in the alley and drove home myself, Eden followed right behind me. I had no idea when or where he’d gotten another car from one of his coworkers, but there he was, tailing me closely.
The glow of his headlights illuminating the road behind me looked unbearably warm, and that irritated me.
***
It had been nearly a month since I got a stalker, yet I still hadn’t asked anyone for help.
They call it Stockholm Syndrome when a hostage becomes emotionally attached to their captor. Was there a term for someone manipulated by a stalker too? If not, maybe they should name it after me—the Somerset-Quinn Syndrome.
I stopped spiraling into thoughts that painted me as pathetic and entered the pub.
The stalker had arrived before me and was already seated at the bar.
I’d assumed he was hiding in the darkness of the late evening, following after me like always, but somehow he’d beaten me here.
Had I told him in advance where I was going?
The swollen lump of suspicion rising in me was crushed by Eden’s gaze.
Whether he reacted to the bell above the door ringing as it shut or sensed my presence specifically, he turned around at that exact moment.
There was something in his eyes capable of paralyzing a person’s mind. Maybe he secretly injected some dangerous drug directly into people’s veins from a distance.
Distracted by this new curiosity, I continued walking. Unfortunately, entering further inside required passing directly by the bar.
Eden quietly watched me approach.
Without even the slightest movement, he looked like a perfectly carved statue.
“Whenever I see something beautiful, I can’t rest until I possess it. Aren’t you the same, Mr. Quinn?”
The words of the client who’d visited the exhibition hall earlier today for an inspection resurfaced in my mind.
If Eden wanted to avoid becoming someone’s collectible, he should probably be careful around that person.
Sweeping back his silky blond hair, he suddenly narrowed his eyes. Catching the tiny movement visible behind his lenses, I frowned right back.
A stalker daring to look at his victim with such sacrilegious eyes. Truly a complete bastard.
While I silently cursed him out, Eden pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and stood up.
As he passed by me, he murmured quietly,
“I’ll be right back.”
Without realizing it, my head turned after him, catching the side of his face—and the faint smile lingering there.
“Okay.”
Fuck.
I’d just responded to my stalker’s casual remark.
Pretending afterward that I hadn’t noticed him, I quickly looked away and strode deeper inside. After searching the restaurant for Susan, I was guided by an employee to a seat near the window.
By then, Eden had disappeared.
He returned about five minutes later.
Sitting with his back to the bar, he cleaned his glasses with his necktie. The bartender spoke to him, and he appeared to order something.
I pretended to be absorbed in the view beyond the terrace while secretly shifting only my eyes to steal glances at him.
Not because I was interested in him, obviously. I was just staying vigilant in case the stalker tried anything dangerous.
The second he pulls something, I’ll resist immediately.
I clenched and unclenched my fist while drinking my bottled beer.
The pub had a great location and sophisticated atmosphere, yet remained oddly quiet. The alcohol was expensive and the food tasted awful, so most customers never visited more than once.
But the people who did come back kept returning.
There wasn’t a better place along busy Fifth Avenue to quietly relax with a drink.
That was why Susan was a regular here, and since I’d visited multiple times with her, I wisely ordered beer. I already knew the bartender’s “special cocktails,” despite looking expertly made, were just as disastrous as the food. Factory-made beer was the safer option.
Lacking that kind of experience, Eden must’ve accepted the bartender’s recommendation. The moment he brought the glass to his lips, he frowned.
Serves him right.
I pressed the beer bottle to my mouth to hide my sinister grin. Somehow I felt thirsty, so I chugged nearly half the bottle at once.
By the time the person I was meeting finally arrived, I’d already ordered a second beer.
In the quiet pub, Susan spotted me immediately and greeted me with a light wave.
She was a model who delighted paparazzi by effortlessly shifting between classic femininity and niche goth aesthetics. Today leaned toward the former—her timeless tailored jacket fluttered elegantly with each step she took.
The narrow walkway between the tables and chairs looked like a runway beneath her.
Crossing her long legs as she sat opposite me, Susan widened her eyes dramatically.
“You saw him, right? You did, didn’t you?”
“What?”
I immediately understood what—or rather, who—Susan’s rolling black eyes were indicating, but I pretended ignorance.
Annoyed by my indifferent response, she blatantly jerked her chin toward Eden.
“That guy over there. Since I don’t recognize him, he’s probably not a model. An aspiring actor? No… if that were the case, there’s no way he’d still be aspiring. Some agency would’ve snatched him up ages ago.”
She sounded like a teenage girl giggling over a cute boy at school.
Her feet swung around beneath the table so wildly I nearly got stabbed by one of her pointed heels. I tried to cool her down by pouring cold water on the excitement.
“You’re exaggerating. He’s not that—”
“Was he in an art film? He looks artistic.”
“Your wordplay sucks. And he’s not just ‘artistic-looking.’”
“What are you talking about? You think I wouldn’t know your type?”
Susan probed me with a mischievous grin.
It was obvious bait meant to stir up my interest. It wouldn’t have been difficult to react the way she wanted, but I didn’t feel like indulging her.
I firmly shook my head.
“I don’t have a type. I don’t really have any desire for relationships. You know I’m kind of defective in that area.”
To me, romance was something close to an illusion.
I was exceptionally talented at connecting physically, but hopeless when it came to interacting emotionally.
“Really? Then maybe I should make a move myself.”
Susan rummaged through her bag, pulled out a receipt, and borrowed a pen from a nearby employee.
“This is the only paper I’ve got.”
Sounding disappointed, she scribbled her name and phone number on the corner of the receipt.
I ordered beer on her behalf and let out a sigh.
Because Eden’s indifferent face had resurfaced in my mind.
As my stalker, there was no way he’d be shaken by attention from some random woman.
“Susan. I admire your bold initiative, but I really don’t think this is the time.”
“I respect your opinion. I just respect myself more.”
Trying to stop her politely accomplished nothing.
Susan brushed back her shimmering hair with her fingers and stood up. Watching her stride confidently away, I silently mourned in advance.
Her pride was obviously about to be crushed.
But things unfolded completely differently from what I expected.
Instead of getting rejected immediately and returning, Susan casually settled into the seat beside Eden. The way she leaned slightly toward him made her attraction unmistakably clear.
Far from embarrassing her, Eden calmly carried on a conversation.
Seen beyond Susan’s silhouette, the side of his face belonged to a mature man. The relaxed composure he carried left me deeply unsettled.
The shock of seeing such an unfamiliar side of him was almost uncomfortable.
I struggled even with the simple act of processing what I was seeing.
I couldn’t understand Eden Reed’s behavior, and somehow my inability to understand him felt even stranger.
It was like being trapped in a dizzying maze.
I barely suppressed the urge to run straight outside.
A short while later, Susan got up and returned to our table.
Left behind alone, Eden drank his terrible cocktail while flipping the slip of paper in his hand over and over. Then, instead of throwing it away, he neatly folded it and tucked it into his jacket pocket.
I doubted both his actions and my own eyesight simultaneously.
Scratching absently at the tension building around my brow bone, I turned my head away. Veins bulged in the hand gripping my beer bottle.
My throat burned.
Pointing at the beer an employee had brought over in the meantime, Susan asked,
“Is this mine?”
“If you don’t want it, I’ll drink it. Apparently it’s the last bottle left.”
“Then I definitely can’t pass that up.”
Taking an elegant sip of beer, Susan smiled brightly.
She looked like she was dying to share every detail of what had happened. Sitting across from her, I lifted my bottle to my mouth instead. I’d already drunk enough—if I kept going at this rate, I’d end up with alcohol poisoning.
Oddly enough, Susan had gone quiet now despite being desperate to talk moments earlier.
Keeping her lips shut while lifting only the corners into a charming eye-smile, she brushed her hair behind her shoulder.
Apparently Eden was looking this way.
There was a determined air in the long line of her exposed neck, displayed almost proudly.
Watching clueless Susan get toyed with made me feel guilty.
Because of that bastard, I was the one left feeling unpleasant. Fuck.
The thirst drying out my throat was probably coming from that irritation.
I lowered my hand beneath the table and raised my middle finger.
Turning around while glaring intensely, I waved it toward Eden. He slowly averted his gaze.
Unaware that I’d just “defeated” him, Susan finally began talking.
“His name’s Alex. Alex Howard.”
“Alex Howard? He seriously told you that name?”
“He acted like he didn’t know who I was, so I introduced myself first. Then he said it wouldn’t be fair if only he knew me, so he politely gave me his name too.”
A hollow laugh escaped me at the realization that Eden—who even knew about rumors involving Susan and me—had pretended not to know her.
“Politely? Sure.”
“He really was gentlemanly. That only made him more attractive. I told him to contact me.”
“And will he?”
“Fifty-fifty.”
