Lena tried to ignore the uneasy feeling in her gut, but it followed her everywhere - like a shadow she couldn't shake.
Elias was perfect in every way, yet something about him felt… wrong.
It wasn't just how he always knew where she was. It was the way he looked at her, like she was a fragile piece of glass he was terrified of losing. It was the way his grip lingered when he held her, just a little too firm, just a little too possessive.
Still, she convinced herself she was imagining things. After all, wasn't this what she wanted? Someone who loved her deeply? Someone who cared?
Then came the weekend at his house.
Elias had invited her to stay over for a few days. His home was a massive, sleek estate on the outskirts of town, modern yet strangely cold. The kind of place that felt like it belonged in a magazine, not in real life.
"Make yourself at home," he said, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
Lena tried to relax. She wandered through the house, admiring the expensive paintings, the pristine furniture - until she noticed one door that was locked.
It wasn't just locked. It had three deadbolts on it.
Her chest tightened. She stared at the door for a long moment before calling out.
"Elias?"
He appeared behind her so quickly, it made her jump.
"You shouldn't be in this part of the house." His voice was gentle, but there was something sharp underneath.
Lena forced a smile. "I just got lost. What's in there?"
His expression didn't change. "Storage."
She swallowed. "Why does it have three locks?"
Elias tilted his head, studying her. Then he smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Some things are better left alone, love."
The way he said it made her stomach twist.
That night, she couldn't sleep. The house was too quiet. The shadows too deep. And somewhere down the hall, behind that locked door…
She swore she heard something move.
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