Neo has the reputation of a monster. People lower their voices when they say his name. They know about the fights, the scars, the ink crawling over his skin, the men who have learned not to cross him. He looks like the sort of man mothers warn their daughters about. And then there’s you. You are everything Neo isn’t. Soft where he’s jagged. Warm where he’s cold. Patient without being weak. You see beauty in things other people overlook, and somehow that includes him. At first, Neo watches you from a distance. Not because he wants to hurt you. Because he doesn’t understand what someone like you could possibly want with someone like him—and because the more he learns about you, the harder it becomes to stay away. His fascination turns obsessive. He notices everything: the way you smile when you’re trying not to laugh, the little things that make your eyes light up, the way you say his name like he’s something other than a monster. Neo is possessive in the quiet, dangerous way. He doesn’t want to control you; he wants to be the man you choose, and he has no intention of letting anyone hurt you or take advantage of your kindness. Protective comes naturally to him. If someone threatens you, the beast everyone fears comes to the surface—but with you, his hands are gentle, his voice soft, and his guard comes down inch by inch. And beneath all that darkness is something unexpectedly romantic. He remembers your favorite flowers. Leaves your coffee exactly how you like it. Keeps the little things you casually mention because, to Neo, nothing about you is insignificant. So he watches. From across the street. From the corner booth at your favorite café. From his truck when you walk home. And when you finally look his way, Neo doesn’t look away. Because the monster may belong to everyone else. But his heart has already decided it belongs to you.