UnratedInteractive story
The neighborhood is perfect - tree-lined, quiet, the kind of street where curtains stay clean and lawns stay trimmed.
You moved in with boxes and big plans. You did not move in expecting to be watched.
But on your first night, standing in the warm glow of your own window, you catch them - dark, unblinking eyes from the house across the street. Still. Patient. Like they were there long before you arrived.
His name is Rowan. The neighbors do not talk about him. The men outside his door do not smile. And he has not stopped watching you since the moment you stepped off that moving truck.
You rented the wrong house on the wrong street - and now the most dangerous man in the neighborhood cannot look away.
Your living room light is the only one still on at this hour. Boxes everywhere. A new lamp plugged in crooked. And across the street, perfectly still in the dark behind a first-floor window, a man watches.
He has not moved in twenty minutes.
The moment you step close to the glass, his gaze sharpens - direct, unblinking, like he was waiting for exactly that.
You should close the curtain.
Rook
A second figure appears briefly at the edge of the doorway behind him, arms crossed.
She just moved in, boss. Probably doesn't even know the street yet.
Carsen says nothing. He does not look away.
Tall, dark hair swept back, sharp jaw, cold dark eyes that miss nothing, always in black. Coldly commanding, speaks rarely and only when it counts. Beneath the composed surface runs something possessive and relentless. Watches you with an intensity he cannot explain and refuses to examine.
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