The next morning, I woke in Luke’s bed with my face mashed into the pillow and a thin stream of drool pooling beneath my lips. The smell of frying bacon wafted through the house, making my stomach rumble. I threw off the bedsheets and stretched my arms over my head, my tank top riding up.

In this gorgeous apartment, I actually liked waking up in the morning. Granite countertops, sun streaming through the bay windows, hardwood floors; a black walnut headboard with a bookcase built into it, crammed half with my favorite crime novels and half with Luke’s medical school textbooks.

I rose and pulled on a pair of skin-tight jeans that lay crumpled on the floor. Braless, I walked into the kitchen. Milky sunlight slanted into the room, electrifying the steam that rose from the frying pan. Luke stood over the stove, scrambling some eggs. Two hot cups of coffee sat on the kitchen table. How could Holly honestly think I should break up with this man? Everything here was perfect. Just the way I liked it.

Luke turned when he saw me, his cheek dimpling with a smile. His gray T-shirt hugged his athletic body. “I have to go in a minute, but I wanted to make sure you had something to eat.”

“Thank you, my dear.”

He nodded at the table. “Have a seat. It’s almost done.”

I sat at the table, wrapping my hands around one of the cups of coffee, a smile curling my lips. I might not have a great job, or money of my own; I might have a dysfunctional family and a mom who got arrested more than I cared to admit. But my life wasn’t that bad.

I took a sip of my coffee. “My first day at work went well.”

“Of course it did. They’re lucky to have you.” He crossed to me, sliding a plate of bacon and eggs across the table. “But you really don’t need to work there. It’s a minimum wage job, and I don’t need the extra money.”

“Okay, you don’t need it. But what harm is it?”

Leaning against the countertop, he ran a hand through his blond hair. “You could stay here. I could spend more time at home. You could work on your dresses.”

I scooped up a forkful of eggs. “You’re busy with medical school. I need something to do.”

He bit into a crispy piece of bacon. “It’s just… a woman as pretty as you… men will try to take advantage. You’ve read the news recently, haven’t you? It’s chaos out there. I’ve read studies that say violence feeds violence. Copycat killings. Violent rapists. Abductions. And it’s all over right now.”

Irritation simmered. This was the part of Luke that frustrated me. “You can’t just keep me in your apartment.” I glanced out the window idly. From here, I had a view of the Lord of Cambridge getting out of his Porsche, his dark hair rustling in the breeze. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would tell his girlfriend she couldn’t have a job…

Luke’s face reddened, and he yanked the curtains closed. “You’re staring at him again. We’re going to have to move if you keep obsessing over him.”

I stared at Luke, wondering if Holly was right about him. Ever since the Lord of Cambridge had moved in across the street, Luke had become more and more paranoid and controlling. “I was just looking out the window. Do you have any idea how you sound?”

He slammed his coffee cup down on the granite counter so hard it chipped the bottom, and I jumped. “Look, Dawn. If you want me to look after you and pay for your rent and your food—if you want to be the wife of a doctor—all I ask is that you do what I say.” Something dark and forbidding flashed in his eyes, and I shrank away from him.

My jaw clenched, and rage began to simmer deep in my chest. “Do what you say? Have you lost your mind?”

His eyes looked cold—no trace of the warmth that had been there earlier. “I’m the one looking after you, aren’t I?”

“That’s why I want a job, Luke. I don’t want you looking after me or telling me what to do. I want to be my own person.”

“Why?” he barked, getting in my face. He gripped my wrist hard, squeezing until I felt like he might crush it. Something like shadows slid through his eyes. “You want to sneak across the street and lift your dress for that professor, don’t you?”

His words and actions hit me like a punch to the gut. He’d always been protective, but now he was starting to act like a monster.

I tried yanking my wrist from his grip, knocking over my coffee in the process. “Let go of my arm!”

He stared at me for a long, tense moment. Then, with a final, brutal squeeze, he released my wrist and crossed to the window, tugging aside the curtain. “We can’t stay in this apartment,” he rasped. “We can’t stay near him.”

Adrenalin raced through my body, making me shake. “You’re freaking me out, Luke.”

“You should be scared. Men like him are predators. All the men like him. We’ll move out west, somewhere far away from here. And I want you to stay away from Holly.”

My chest flamed with fury. “Why are you scared of Holly now? Is she a predator too?”

A long silence reigned over us. His mouth opened and closed again. Then he tightened his fists. “She’s never liked me. She’s trying to turn you against me. She wants you to break up with me, wants you to be with one of them.” He gestured at the window.

“One of who?” I closed my eyes, trying to marshal my patience, but inside it felt like my heart was breaking. I didn’t want to be here anymore. Never before had I felt such a desperate need to break free. “You know what? Never mind.”

Luke took another step closer, his eyes intent. “We’re going to be moving out of here, Dawn. We’re getting out of the city.”

Not a request. Not a discussion. An order. And this was why I wanted my own job, my own life.

Rage quickly overtook my sorrow, and I ground out, “Go. To. Class.”

His fists tightened in front of his chest, face red with rage. Then he seemed to master himself, his features relaxing into a smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. In fact, his smile didn’t fool me anymore. Today, Luke had given me a glimpse of the real monster underneath his charming surface.

He leaned down and kissed my forehead as I sat there frozen, too shocked to move. “Sorry, buttercup. Of course you’re right. I just want to keep you safe. Like you said, we can talk about this later. I’ll take you out to Vialé. Cocktails, oysters. We’ll figure out a plan that makes us both happy.”

The speed with which his mood had changed unnerved me deeply—swinging from angry to joyful within moments. I didn’t believe the charm for a second.

On his way out the door, he flashed me a brilliant, dimpled smile—so dazzling I nearly forgot the bruises blossoming on my wrist. He was out the door before I could say another word.

A hollow had opened in my chest, a sort of gnawing void between my ribs. Right now, I felt completely alone. I blinked, trying to shove back the tears.

With a sense of dread tightening my throat, I finished up my breakfast and loaded the dishwasher. Then I crossed into the living room. Pale linen curtains flitted in the breeze, streaming over the mahogany desk, and the wooden floor felt cool beneath my bare feet. Tears stung my eyes and I sniffled, trying to forget what had just happened. Why on Earth was Luke so threatened by this stranger? I’d never even spoken to the man. I wiped my sleeve across my face, drying my tears.

So I liked to look across the street at the Lord of Cambridge. Maybe I liked to spy on his house just a little, imagining what his life was like. Somehow, watching him made me forget all the chaos in my own life. In fact, for a few minutes, it almost filled that hollow void in my chest…

I paused in the center of the room, peering out the window at the row of mansions across the street. Then, hating myself just a little, I pulled a pair of binoculars from under Luke’s sofa. I crossed to the window and looked at the dark, gothic mansion that belonged to the ‘Lord.’

There—through one of the windows on the top floor, I caught a glimpse of him in his bedroom. When he pulled off his T-shirt, my breath caught in my throat. Faintly, I could see tattoos on his broad, chiseled torso, and my skin began to heat. I’d never seen him without his shirt before, I’d never seen the thickly corded muscle…

Then he turned his head, and I could have sworn he was looking directly at me, arching an eyebrow. My heart skipped a beat, and I dropped the binoculars.

A sharp stab of guilt pierced my gut. Son of a gun. I’m some kind of Peeping Tom pervert. How would I feel if some guy were spying into my bedroom window?

A thin sheen of sweat had risen on my neck, and I could feel my cheeks burning. I swallowed hard, crossing the living room to the desktop computer, trying to act normal. Maybe it was time for me to end things with Luke, to find some way out of here. A cheap—practically free—apartment where I could stay on my own. Or maybe a better job to pay for rent.

Still sniffling, I dropped down in a chair in front of the desk to use Luke’s computer. He’d left it on, and I jostled the mouse to wake it up. I scanned the screen, looking for my job application folder.

When the screen popped on, I cocked my head at a thumbnail in the corner of the screen, nearly lost under my mess of Word documents and resumes. I narrowed my eyes at it, pulling it out from under the .docx files. Was that a picture of… me?

I double-clicked it, and my pulse sped up. It was a picture of me, walking on the sidewalk in Central Square. Taken from behind. When had that photo been taken? And who’d taken it?

An uneasy feeling began to rise in my gut. I opened a search window to look for .jpg. And when I did, my hands began to shake.

What. The. Cuss.

There, buried in a series of inauspiciously named folders, were hundreds of photos of me. Walking around Cambridge, lying in the cemetery grass with Holly—pulling off my shirt while the spider crawled on me. Bile rose in my throat. There were pictures from yesterday—me working in the cafe. Had Luke taken these, or had he paid someone to follow me?

Neither answer was good.

I’d been living with a psycho.

I ran into the bedroom on shaking legs, tearing apart the bed until I found my phone embedded in the sheets. My hands were trembling so hard I could hardly navigate to Luke’s phone number.

It took three rings before he actually picked up, his voice sounding annoyed. “Yeah? I’m on the bus.”

“Why are there hundreds of photos of me on your computer? Have you had me followed?”

A long pause greeted me from the other end of the line. Then he cleared his throat. “Why are you searching through the computer? Stop invading my privacy.”

“Invading your privacy? Are you kidding?” I yelled into the phone.

He loosed a long sigh. “Dawn. Relax. I was just making sure you’re not in any danger.”

Hot fury overtook me, so intense I could hardly put a sentence together. For a moment, I just spluttered. “You’re the danger, Luke. You are the predator.”

“Look, Dawn. You’re hysterical. You need to calm down.”

Rage burned through my nerve endings until—at last—fiery fury gave way to an icy clarity. I didn’t need to be angry. It was just over, simple as that. Luke wasn’t who I thought he was, and it was over. “Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re done.” And with that, I hung up my phone. I understood clearly what had to happen next.

My body trembled as I shoved my clothes into a duffel bag, clenching my jaw tight. I’d take my handmade dresses with me, the discount shoes I’d saved for. I didn’t have much else anymore.

No boyfriend, no place to live. All I had now was a job in a coffee shop, working for a man who liked to fondle the biscotti.

I wasn’t sure things could get much worse.