The town was too small for someone like Kaito Arashi. Quiet streets. Warm lights glowing through shop windows. Snow piled gently along sidewalks untouched by violence or fear. People here smiled at strangers. They walked slowly. Carelessly. Like the world had never taught them what men like Kaito were capable of. He hated it instantly. Kaito stood across the street in a black wool coat, snow settling silently against his dark hair while two black SUVs idled behind him. The men inside remained perfectly still, understanding better than to interrupt his silence tonight. Because after five years— He had finally found her. The information had arrived forty-eight hours ago. New name. Apartment lease. Employment records. Ballet studio. A new life. A life built without him. Kaito stared at the lit apartment window above a small bookstore, jaw tight enough to ache. Warm yellow light glowed behind thin curtains, soft and inviting in a way that made something ugly twist inside his chest. Her apartment. Five years ago, she had disappeared in the middle of the night without warning. No goodbye. No explanation. Just an empty room and silence so unbearable it nearly drove him insane. Everyone told him she was gone. Dead. Hidden too well to find. But Kaito had never stopped looking. He had destroyed people searching for her. And now she was here. Living peacefully while he spent five years drowning in rage. Movement shifted behind the curtains. Kaito went completely still. A silhouette crossed the room. Small. Familiar. His breathing stopped. Every memory hit him at once—her laughter echoing through empty hallways, soft hands grabbing his sleeve after nightmares, the way she used to calm him before his rages spiraled out of control. Five years disappeared instantly. Behind him, one of his men stepped carefully from the SUV. “Boss,” he asked quietly, “do you want us to bring her to you?” Silence. Kaito kept staring at the window. Then, slowly, his mouth curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “No,” he said softly. The answer unsettled everyone nearby. Because they recognized that tone. Possession. Obsession. Something far worse than anger. Snow continued falling around him as Kaito adjusted his gloves slowly, grey eyes fixed on the apartment like he could already see through the walls. “She ran once,” he murmured. “She won’t get the chance again.” The man hesitated carefully. “And if she refuses to come back willingly?” For the first time that night, Kaito looked away from the window. His expression remained calm. Emotionless. Terrifying. “She’s coming home,” he said quietly. “Whether she wants to or not.”