I set down the horribly crushed cushion that had been trapped in my arms and sat up. As the illusion formed from memory faded away, what greeted me wasn’t the Upper East Side mansion where I’d grown up, but the little haven I’d made for myself in Chelsea.
Within the familiar scenery, I rubbed my dry face and forced myself to think rationally. I recalled the conversation I’d had with Eden at the donut shop.
“I’m a busy person. Today and tomorrow. Especially tomorrow—I’m meeting a man.”
“I doubt that. Unless Ms. Quinn secretly transitioned without me knowing. Haven’t seen any news about that.”
Which meant Eden already knew I’d made plans to meet my mother.
It couldn’t have been confusion with the meeting planned around Cedric Beaufort’s visit to New York—the days and dates were different. Besides, that had already been canceled long ago, and my appointment with Mom had only been arranged yesterday.
I asked myself again.
How does Eden know my schedule?
Even if he somehow understood me as though he could see right through me, this was different. It hadn’t even been a full day since the arrangement was made, and it wasn’t exactly the sort of thing I’d go around announcing. I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone else. More importantly, before even pinpointing my mother as the person I was meeting, how did he know I had plans at all?
The sheer breadth and accuracy of Eden’s information network was chillingly incomprehensible. The more I organized my thoughts, the more unpleasant it felt crawling against my skin. Scrubbing my forearm harshly with one hand, I hurriedly searched for my phone.
—Hello.
The man on the other end sounded calm.
Unlike me, whose breathing had already grown ragged.
“I’ve got something I want to ask. Just how the hell… no, forget it. I need to see with my own eyes whether you’re lying. Show up in front of me again. We need to talk.”
Even to me, I sounded absurdly forceful, but Eden didn’t hesitate.
He wasn’t the same man who used to refuse my invitations.
—Meet me in the parking garage in three minutes.
“What? It only takes you three minutes? You said you were leaving work, but were you wandering around near me the whole time? You crazy bastard!”
—Two minutes?
“You fucking stalker!”
The insults I spat out with emphasis were, in fact, nothing more than objective truth. I tossed my phone onto the sofa carelessly and hurried into some clothes. By the time I grabbed my car keys and headed to the garage, Eden was already standing in front of my green sedan, waiting.
“You’re late. It’s been five minutes.”
“You’re the one who’s too fast. Apartment security’s gone to shit. Random outsiders can just walk in now.”
Resolving to file a complaint soon, I gestured toward the sedan.
“Get in. This conversation’s too uncivilized to have outside.”
Eden opened the passenger door faster than I could unlock the car myself. While I was at it, I ought to find out where he’d learned that trick too.
The man who had absolutely no idea how many times I’d mentally stripped him bare sat there calmly with his arms crossed. I glared at him through the window before climbing into the driver’s seat.
It wasn’t a perfectly soundproof, sealed room, but as long as nobody started screaming at the top of their lungs, it’d be fine.
Which meant I was the only person who needed to be careful.
Messing up the hair flattened from lying around on the sofa, I spoke.
“I’m asking directly this time. Don’t even think about dodging the question again. If you do, I’ll erase you from my life. Think I can’t do it? Try avoiding me and see what happens if you’re curious. You’ll regret it so badly you’ll beat your chest over it. I’ll make damn sure of it.”
Faced with my rather long-winded threat, Eden only reacted by slightly lifting and lowering one eyebrow.
Honestly, a simple threat about smashing his glasses probably would’ve worked better. Fucking hell.
There was no way my declaration for him to disappear from my life meant nothing to him. He was certain I wouldn’t follow through.
Locking firmly onto the arrogant stalker’s gaze, I asked:
“How did you know I was meeting my mother tomorrow?”
I delivered the blow, but Eden didn’t budge. The eyes staring back at me insisted on innocence.
“A stalker knows everything.”
“That excuse doesn’t work. There are things even a stalker shouldn’t know.”
“If I keep following you around, I learn everything eventually.”
“You’re wrong.”
No matter how many weak answers he tossed out, he remained unshaken.
“Are you underestimating my information network?”
“The one being underestimated here is me. You’re looking down on me.”
“That’s a misunderstanding. More like self-deprecation.”
“Oh, hilarious. Fine then, tell me how you got all that incredible information.”
Go on then, let’s hear it!
“I went and asked Mrs. Quinn.”
“If you had, my mom would’ve contacted me.”
“I asked her to match stories…”
“A flying pig sounds more believable.”
My mother adapting herself to someone else was impossible.
“I could call her and check right now. Don’t try misleading me with lies that’ll get exposed immediately. I want the truth. Making things up is pointless, so convince me properly.”
“I feel like I’ve done enough already.”
“Not even close. None of it’s convincing at all!”
Trying to pressure a fortress-like Eden felt pointless, so I began reasoning it out myself. What sort of thing would a stalker do? Especially one skilled enough to break through apartment security in three minutes and unlock a car barehanded without blinking.
“I don’t know what you’re imagining, but…”
“If you’re not going to tell the truth, shut up.”
As if to demonstrate obedience, Eden closed his mouth.
This wasn’t like before, when I’d been too dazzled by his beauty to properly resent him. Now he looked beyond merely irritating—more like a cruel demon.
Narrowing my eyes, I rested my cheek against the steering wheel. One side of my face squished flat while my lips jutted out awkwardly as I stared at him. My gaze traced the artistic line of his nose while I thought furiously.
“Did you hack my phone?”
“That’s a crime.”
“You’re in no position to lecture anyone about crimes. If not hacking, then what?”
The only time I’d mentioned the appointment was during my call with Mom, so how else could he know?
I couldn’t find the slightest clue, and frustration churned in my stomach. It wasn’t until nausea welled up that I realized how pathetic my meals had been today—the only thing I’d eaten was a single bite stolen from Eden’s donut.
At least there wasn’t enough in my stomach to throw up.
What had I eaten last night again? A bunch of Chinese takeout. Noodles, dumplings, stir-fried vegetables.
As my thoughts followed the timeline backward, I revisited myself from last night, lying around lazily after stuffing myself full.
Then I found the clue.
“Ah!”
Yesterday, I’d been too lazy even to hold my phone to my ear, so I’d talked to Mom on speakerphone.
Which meant someone inside the house could’ve overheard the conversation.
“You—you! You were in my apartment?”
Horrified, I plastered myself against the car door. If it turned out Eden Reed was the kind of lunatic who broke into people’s homes, I planned to run immediately.
“I swear I wasn’t.”
So not that. Relief washed through me for barely a moment before another sharp suspicion struck.
“Don’t tell me you bugged the place…”
I didn’t miss the instant Eden flinched.
“You really planted a listening device?”
He’d denied hacking and breaking in immediately, but at the accusation of bugging my apartment, he bit down on his lower lip and dropped his gaze.
That reaction confirmed my suspicions.
I’d finally found the answer.
Bugging.
“You fucking psycho pervert!”
“As you know, I’m actually quite a pure person, so being misunderstood as a pervert is a little…”
I leapt out of the car and frantically brushed at my clothes, running my hands from my hair down to the back of my neck. I had to find the bug that might’ve been attached somewhere. My rational thinking completely gone, I searched my body in a panic while Eden climbed out after me and generously offered:
“I’ll tell you. Come here.”
Would you go if it were you? Would you walk right up to a stalker who’d secretly bugged you?
No normal person would ever do that.
The problem was that I didn’t exactly fit the definition of normal.
Standing there quietly waiting, Eden looked like an enormous puppy. Though given the situation, I was probably the puppy, and he was closer to the owner holding the leash. He wasn’t tugging the leash or luring me with treats, yet I still stepped forward.
Warily guarding against his sinister intentions, I crept toward him little by little.
When I stopped at a reasonable distance, he gestured for me to come closer. Imagining myself biting down hard on those casually beckoning fingers, I took another step forward.
Barely half a step.
A timid little resistance.
Eden closed the remaining distance himself.
He came close enough to touch me—then actually did.
His hand toyed with my shirt collar. Since I’d thrown clothes on in a rush before coming out, my appearance was a mess.
“Here?”
Without answering, he folded my shirt collar neatly into place, then slowly lowered his gaze. Following his line of sight, I shoved my hand into my pants pocket and searched around.
“Here?”
But there wasn’t even a speck of dust. Thinking maybe it was attached near my waistband, I lifted the hem of my shirt slightly—then unconsciously flinched.
Not because I cared about showing bare skin to Eden.
It was because the fingertips that slipped inside my collar brushed against my skin.
Watching my startled reaction to the sudden contact, Eden withdrew his hand.
“I never attached anything directly to you. That’d be impossible without touching you.”
That was true enough. You couldn’t remotely install a bug onto someone’s body.
“With how violently you jump whenever I so much as touch you, what could I possibly do?”
The way he spoke made it sound like he was shifting the blame onto me, which was absurd. I adjusted my now perfectly straightened collar and scoffed.
“Don’t act like you’ve never touched me before.”
What I should’ve said was: Don’t blame other people for your difficulties committing crimes.
That was a mistake.
Even though Eden’s hand had already left me, the warmth he’d left behind still seemed embedded in my skin.
I barely resisted the urge to scratch it out with my nails. I didn’t want anyone—not even myself—to notice how conscious I was of him.
“Then what is it? Where is it? Is it gone now?”
Returning to the original point, I asked the question again. I had no interest in any more games.
“I haven’t moved it since installing it. It’s been in the same place since two days after I first appeared in front of you.”
Brazenly confessing, Eden finally told me where he’d installed the listening device.
“Your home.”
“My home? The apartment where I was just now? The place where I eat, sleep, and rest?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
I was utterly horrified.
The decisive factor was how shamelessly confident Eden remained despite committing something so vile.
“Wait, ah—I think I’m gonna throw up. Ugh.”
As I bent over dry-heaving, Eden gently patted my back. It was like holding fire in one hand and water in the other. He’d caused my distress in the first place, yet here he was acting kind.
Ridiculous.
Coldly shrugging off his help, I straightened up and backed away. The man still standing calmly in place could no longer be compared to a puppy.
Much less the owner expertly handling one.
A fucking crazy stalker.
I firmly defined Eden that way and raised my middle finger at him. At the vulgar gesture, he merely tilted his head slightly. His overflowing composure felt like gasoline.
Fuel that made the fire called me blaze even hotter.
I’d never imagined that, on top of being constantly watched by a stalker, my daily life would now include hidden surveillance devices too.
Now it finally explained why Eden was always waiting outside my apartment whenever I left.
Since he knew everything happening inside my home, of course he knew exactly when I went out. I’d simply assumed he woke earlier than me and slept later than me. In reality, he’d just been using his time efficiently without wasting his stamina.
