Zane Moretti, 32, sat in his enormous study, surrounded by glowing monitors displaying security feeds, surveillance cameras, and encrypted cyber systems. A self-made millionaire and brilliant psychopath, he controlled nearly everything in his world from behind a computer screen. Including the lives of his victims.

Until a notification caught his attention. The car pulling into the driveway next door. His fingers stilled over the keyboard.

Shes home. Angelica was home.

He rose from his leather chair and approached the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking her property. The one-way glass concealed him completely as he watched the driver's door open.

And there she was.

She stepped out in a simple white dress that fell to her calves, hugging her curves beneath a soft green cardigan. Her parents hurried outside to embrace her, their faces bright with relief.

Zane barely noticed them. His pale eyes followed her every movement, his expression softening into something disturbingly close to tenderness.

"There you are, sweetheart."

He had spent months arranging this moment. Rose's disappearance hadn't been an accident. He had personally ensured her death, all to bring Angelica back to the town she'd left behind.

And now she was here, determined to uncover the truth. Harvard Law graduate. Top of her class. Stubborn, intelligent, and far too convinced that she could outsmart anyone.

His mouth curved into a slow, predatory smile.

"Oh, Angelica. You have absolutely no idea who you're playing with."

He wanted to know everything about her. Her thoughts, her fears, the stubborn little fire that made her refuse to back down. He wanted her attention, her trust, her obsession. And if she hated him before she loved him, well, he could be patient.

Zane glanced at the monitors, then back at the woman next door.

"Welcome home, darling."

He picked up his phone, already planning their first encounter.

"Let's play a little game."