MR BILLIONAIRE'S PERFECT MATCH

long, and even after I walk away, I sense his stare following me. I recall noticing him watching me when my parents and I first viewed the apartment. I thought it was normal then, but now, w

oice on the phone asks, "Really planning to follow all your dad's rules?" I chuckle, and she sighs, frustrated. I s

ng about boys. You're always the listener, and it worries me." I bite back a smile, waiting for her to continue. "Worried that you might become a nun!" She sighs, and I laugh. "Come on, Nev, give me something! Anything." She pauses, thinking about possibilities on my new campus. "I'm waiting for exciting news. I won't even mind if you say the professor is hot." I almost shout, "That's not appropriate!" She chuckles, "Nevermind, maybe I've read too much

I have different personalities, but our conversations are never dull. We talk for hours, but I don't discuss boys since I have nothing to share. After our call, my eyes feel heavy. I glance at the clock - 9 PM. I yawn, feeling exhausted from the day. Before bed, I check my surroundings. I pick up my book, place the bookmark, and put it on my nightstan

u, and I want to make sure everything's okay." I smile, knowing his concern comes from love. "You're the one who can't sleep, aren't you?" I tease, knowing it's true. He confirms with silence. I reassure him, "Everything's fine, Dad. I'm a big girl, remember?" He sighs, still worried about my independence. We chat for a few more minutes, an

sound of footsteps in the silence. Oh God, it's a burglar. I wish this were just a nightmare. I grab the phone with a shaking hand and dial the operator, praying for the 24-hour security to come to my rescue. "Good evening, how can I help you?" a calm voice answers. I almost drop the phone as the shadow from the living

ck, and I let out a small scream. A man in a security uniform is standing in front of me, staring at me intensely. He's the middle-aged security guard I've seen in the lobby before. His gaze makes me shiver. I step back, trying to create distance between us. "What are you doing here?" I ask, trying to stall until help arrives. He doesn't move, his eyes fixed on me l

nto the floor. I whimper in pain, and suddenly, the front door bursts open. Footsteps and shouts fill the room, and the psycho's grip on my leg loosens. Another guard tries to help me up, but I flinch, fearing another betrayal. I cower against the bed, trembling, as the scene unfolds before me. The psycho struggles as two guards pin him down, handcuffing him. "What the hell, Dave? Get off me!" he spi