Prologue

I wrote about monsters for a living.

Unmasked them. Hunted them with my words. Exposed their names, dragged them into the light. But the worst monsters don’t hide in alleyways or basements.

They wear masks of protection. They watch you sleep.

I didn’t know he’d been reading everything I wrote. That each article was a breadcrumb, leading him straight to me.

And I didn’t know…

That when he finally found me, I wouldn’t run.

Chapter 1: The Man in the Wires

I had been getting the emails for weeks. Untraceable. Encrypted. Always one line.

> “You're not safe, Riven.”

“They’re watching you now.”

“Let me help you before they take you.”

I ignored them. Paranoia came with the territory. When you write about human trafficking networks, corrupt politicians, and black-market deals, you attract lunatics.

But this one was different. The way he knew things no one else could—like the coffee stain on my second-hand sofa, or the fact that I never use the front door. It was invasive. Intricate. Personal.

And then one night, the power went out.

No storm. No warning. Just silence.

My laptop flickered back on seconds later—no WiFi, no apps. Just a black screen with three words in white text:

> “I’m here, Riven.”

I stumbled back, my pulse hammering. I reached for my phone, but the signal was dead.

A knock on the door.

Soft. Deliberate.

He stepped inside like he owned the silence. Dressed in black from collar to boots. Sharp jaw, colder eyes. A storm in human skin.

He didn’t smile when he spoke.

> “I told you they’d come for you. But now they won’t. Because I did first.”

I should’ve screamed. Fought. I didn’t.

Because something inside me recognized him.

Not as a savior.

But as the next cage I was going to live in.

---

Chapter 2: The Cage with a Voice

He didn’t touch me. Not yet. He just watched. As if waiting for me to understand something I hadn’t yet put together.

"Who are you?" I demanded. My voice cracked, but I kept my eyes on his.

"Kael," he said. Just that. No last name. No explanation. Like he thought that was enough.

It wasn’t.

"What do you want from me?"

He tilted his head. "To keep you breathing. That’s step one."

He walked past me, fingers brushing the dusty windowsill. "They were planning to take you tonight. In a van. Blacked out. You wouldn’t have seen it coming."

I stared at him. My chest tightened.

"How do you know this?"

He met my gaze again. "Because I used to work with them. Before I turned them into prey."

---

Chapter 3: The Safehouse

Kael's so-called safehouse was a fortress disguised as a warehouse. Cold steel doors, coded locks, cameras at every angle.

He didn’t restrain me. Didn’t lock me in a room. But the unspoken message was clear:

I wasn’t going anywhere.

I spent the first night on a stiff leather couch, listening to every footstep. Kael worked in the shadows, typing lines of code like he was orchestrating a digital war.

"What do you even do?"

"I tear apart the people who sell others. One hard drive at a time."

He looked up, and for a second, the darkness in him seemed... righteous.

"Why me?" I asked.

Kael didn’t hesitate. "Because you wrote about them. And they never forget who exposes them."

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