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I exchange a glance with Axel, seeing my own unease reflected in his eyes. Something's wrong, I can feel it in my gut.
When Simon returns, his face is ashen, his eyes haunted.
"Sasha..." he begins, his voice trembling slightly. "The stalker, they've... they've sent a package. To your home address."
The words hit me like a punch to the stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I feel the color drain from my face as my hands start to shake.
I close my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, but it's no use. The fear is back, the same icy terror that gripped me the first time this happened, when I still lived in Miami. The memories come flooding back—the endless messages, the threats, the constant feeling of being watched, of being hunted.
I thought I'd escaped that nightmare. But now, it's back, and it's worse than ever.
"What... what was in the package?" I manage to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Simon hesitates, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and concern. "It's... a broken piece of jewelry, Sasha. A necklace. And there was a note..."
He pauses, as if gathering the strength to continue. "It said, 'I'm always watching, and I'm closer than you think.' And… there was a bullet, too."
My blood runs cold, a wave of nausea washing over me. This isn't just some overzealous fan or a harmless admirer. This is someone dangerous, someone who has been watching me, someone who wants me to know that they're close, too close for comfort.
Axel's voice cuts through the haze of my panic, steady and strong. "Sasha, look at me."
I force my eyes open, meeting his gaze. There's a fierceness there, a determination that takes my breath away.
"We're going to handle this," he says, his voice low and intense. "I promise you, I won't let anything happen to you."
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. I want to believe him, to trust in his strength and his protection. But the fear is still there, lurking in the shadows of my mind.
Simon clears his throat, breaking the tension. "I think we need to discuss this further, in private."
Axel nods, his jaw clenched tight. "Agreed. Sasha, why don't you head back to your dressing room? We'll meet you there in a few minutes."
I stand on shaky legs, my heart pounding in my chest. Tessa moves to follow me, but I shake my head. "I need a moment—alone."
She hesitates, but nods, understanding in her eyes. I turn and walk out of the room, feeling the weight of Axel's gaze on my back.
The hallway is empty, the silence oppressive. I can’t outrun my unease as I move on autopilot towards my dressing room. Once inside, I lean against the wall, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.
I can't shake the feeling of dread that's settled in the pit of my stomach. The package, delivered to my home... it's a violation, an invasion of my privacy and my sense of safety. It's a reminder that nowhere is truly safe, that the stalker is always watching, always waiting.
And then there's Axel. Having him back in my life, so close and yet so far, is like reopening an old wound. The attraction between us is still there, simmering beneath the surface. But it's complicated now, tangled up in a web of history and hurt.
I don't know how to untangle it, how to separate the past from the present. All I know is that right now, at this moment, I need him. I need his help and reassurance.
A knock on the door startles me out of my thoughts. I take a deep breath, straightening my spine and squaring my shoulders. I can't let them see me like this—see the cracks in my armor.
I open the door, expecting to see Tessa or Simon. But it's Axel who stands before me, his blue eyes intense and searching.
"Sasha, are you okay?" he asks, his voice low and gentle.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. But he sees through the lie, sees the fear and the vulnerability that I'm trying so hard to hide.
"Hey," he says, stepping closer. "We're going to get through this. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
He reaches out, his hand brushing against my arm. It's a simple gesture, but it's enough to break through the walls I've built around myself. I feel the tears welling up in my eyes, the sob catching in my throat.
And then, before I can stop myself, I'm in his arms, my face buried against his chest. He holds me tight, his chin resting on the top of my head.
"I've got you," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against my ear. "I've got you, Sasha."
