Twisted Control

Chapter Four

Not until my phone buzzes again.A message.From an unknown number. See you soon. My stomach drops.And I know—this isn't over. Not even close.

The past doesn't knock. It barges in, uninvited, settling into the corners of your mind like it never left.

See you soon.

The message burned into my brain, my fingers tightening around my phone until my knuckles go white. It's him. I know it's him.

My breath is too fast, my chest too tight. The walls of my apartment feel smaller, like they're closing in. The rational part of me wants to believe it's just a scare tactic. Just another way for Ethan to remind me that I'll never really be free of him.

But the other part—the part that remembers the feel of his fingers closing around my wrist this morning—knows better.

I need to tell someone. And I already know who. Adrian is waiting for me.

He doesn't even look surprised when I walk into his office without an appointment. He just leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers, watching me the way he always does—like he already knows what I'm about to say.

I shut the door behind me, the click of the lock sounding louder than it should."What happened?" His voice is calm. Controlled.Too controlled.

I hesitate, the weight of his gaze pressing against my skin. Then I take a slow breath and pull out my phone, turning the screen toward him.His jaw tightens.

"Ethan?" I nod.

For a second, he says nothing. Just stares at the message like he's trying to burn a hole through it. The silence stretches, thick with something I can't name.

Then, slowly, he reaches for my phone.I won't stop him.I should stop him.But I don't.Because when Adrian looks at me again, something in his expression changes. Something sharp and unreadable flickers in the depths of his dark eyes, and it's not a concern.

It's something else entirely."How did he find you?" His voice is too soft."I don't know," I whisper. "I haven't talked to him in a year."
A muscle in his jaw jumps.He leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk. "Mia, I want you to know that I care about your mental health more than my other patients. And," he says, slow and deliberate, "I need you to understand something."

I swallow hard."He's not going to stop."
The words settle in my chest like lead. I already know that. I've known it since the moment I saw Ethan's name on my phone. Since the moment I felt his eyes on me this morning.But hearing Adrian say it out loud makes it real.

A shiver ghosts down my spine."What do I do?" My voice is small.Adrian stands. Walk around the desk. Stop right in front of me.Too close.
He tilts my chin up with two fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze. "You let me handle it."
The air between us shifts. My pulse pounds against my ribs.

"I—I"

His thumb brushes over my jaw. "I won't let him touch you again." It's a promise.A dangerous one.And something inside me whispers that maybe—just maybe—I should be afraid of him, too.

That night.I didn't sleep.
Every shadow feels like a threat. Every creak of the apartment settles in my chest like a warning. I keep checking my phone, even though I know I shouldn't.

Nothing.No more messages. No more calls.Just silence.But silence doesn't mean safety.And when my phone finally does buzz—long past midnight—I nearly drop it.

A single message.
Come outside.

My stomach turns to ice.I scramble out of bed, my breath sharp and uneven. My feet move before my brain can catch up, pulling me toward the window, fingers shaking as I push the curtain aside.And then—A figure.Standing across the street.