"You look surprised, sweetheart."

Last night, he was a shadow. A presence lurking just out of reach. Then—an alley, a struggle, a body hitting the ground. Blood on his knuckles. A voice smooth as silk. "You should be more careful."

And then, he was gone.

But today? He’s here. Standing against the senior block railing, sleeves rolled up, watching you like he’s been waiting. Like he belongs.

Like saving you was just the beginning.

Your pulse spikes. Your world tilts. Because this isn't a coincidence.

This is a warning.

And Eiran Castellano doesn’t do coincidences.