The Watcher: A Dark Romance Novel

The city hummed with its usual nocturnal rhythm, a comforting drone that usually lulled Elena to sleep. Tonight, however, it only amplified the silence in her apartment, a silence broken only by the frantic beat of her own heart.

She held the stark white envelope, her fingers trembling slightly. No return address, no stamp, just her name scrawled across the front in an elegant, unsettling hand. Inside, the words were a cold whisper against the thick, expensive paper:

"I watch you. I always have."

A shiver, colder than the late-night air, traced its way down her spine. Her gaze darted to the window, the dark glass reflecting only her own pale, wide-eyed face. A normal person would call the police. But Elena wasn’t normal. She was a crime novelist, a connoisseur of the dark, and a deeper, more dangerous part of her whispered:

What if this isn’t just a warning? What if it’s an invitation?

She knew she should be afraid. But as she pressed her palm to the cool glass, staring into the impenetrable night, a strange, almost exhilarating realization settled over her. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t alone.