Chapter 1Taming the Obsessive Vampire Next Door

I have a severe, uncompromising obsession with emotional exclusivity.

Whoever I date has to give me every single first: first handhold, first kiss, first love. They aren’t allowed to look at anyone else, talk to anyone else, or entertain a passing thought that doesn’t revolve around me. Once they choose me, they are mine forever.

People on the internet used to joke that with standards like mine, I’d have to stake out a hospital maternity ward and wait eighteen years.

Then, one evening, translucent lines of text—like a live video chat stream—began flickering across my field of vision:

[Does this disposable side character seriously not realize her new neighbor across the hall is a brooding, damp vampire?]

[That unhinged villain’s possessiveness is completely lethal. Once he sinks his claws into someone, they’re finished!]

So when that dark, obscenely gorgeous man knocked on my front door later that night, a quiet thrill coursed through my veins.

Unhinged? Possessive? Perfect.

If you step across my threshold and ever try to walk away, darling, you’re dead.

* * *

Thunder cracked directly overhead, rattling the windowpanes as the sky opened into a torrential downpour.

In the dead quiet of my apartment, the doorbell chimed once, then twice.

I peeked through the brass peephole. A face of absolute, breathtaking perfection filled my view.

I tightened my grip on the heavy canvas duffel bag in my hands, quietly calculating the best angle to drop it over his head.

[Is this girl brain-dead?] the floating text scrolled across my vision.

[She’s facing the villainous vampire and she brings a canvas sack instead of a crucifix and garlic???]

I rolled my eyes in the dark. Staking him would be a waste of good art; I had every intention of playing the long game of domestic captivity.

From the hallway, a low, velvety voice filtered through the wood. "Hello? Is anyone home? Could you open up?" A pause, carefully laced with vulnerability. "My power blew out... and I’m a little freaked out being alone in the dark."

[Do NOT open that door!] the comments panicked. [He’s just starving and looking for a convenient juice box! If she opens up, she’s getting drained dry on the welcome mat!]

I reached out, unlatched the deadbolt, and pulled the door wide open.

"Don't be scared," I said softly. "I'll protect you."

The man froze. Clearly, he hadn't anticipated zero resistance.

Our eyes locked. Looking into those captivating, slightly upturned dark eyes framed by long lashes, my pulse gave an involuntary kick. Even toxic obsession requires aesthetic standards, and this man cleared the bar with room to spare.

"Hi," he said, regaining his composure. "I'm Damian. Damian Cross. The lightning blew my circuit breaker, and the heat's out. Could I warm up inside for a minute? It’s freezing out here."

Look at that face, I thought. He could read the phone book and I'd listen.

"I'm Penny," I replied, stepping aside. "Penny Brooks. You just moved in across the hall, right? I know who you are. Come on in before you catch a cold."

Damian stepped inside, slipping into the guest slippers I offered. His gaze dropped to the heavy sack still clutched in my left hand.

"...What's that for?" he asked, tilting his head.

I gave an easy laugh. "For a pet."

He glanced around my minimalist, empty living room. "I don't see any pets."

"Not yet," I murmured, locking the front door behind him. "But I will soon."

Damian settled onto my sofa, his long legs stretched out with feline grace. I walked into the kitchen to slice some apples, performing the role of the polite, unsuspecting hostess.

With deliberate carelessness, I angled the paring knife and nicked the fleshy side of my index finger.

The floating text went ballistic:

[What an absolute moron! She’s practically begging for a Darwin Award!]

[First she invites the apex predator in, now she cuts herself!]

[Doesn't she know he’s a vampire? The smell of fresh blood is going to send him feral!]

Of course I knew.

Letting the crimson droplet bead and drip down my finger, I walked back into the living room and stopped beside the sofa.

"The first-aid kit is in the bottom drawer by your knee," I said softly, holding up my hand. "Would you mind grabbing it for me?"

Damian's expression shifted instantly. His pupils dilated, his chest heaving as his breathing turned shallow and ragged. His Adam's apple bobbed. Fighting a losing battle against his predatory instincts, he leaned forward, turning his back to reach for the drawer.

The second his spine curved away from me, I picked up the solid aluminum baseball bat resting behind the armchair.

With clean, practiced precision, I swung.

Crack.

Damian crumpled onto the rug without a sound.

I dragged him down the hallway and into the soundproofed basement I had spent the past week preparing.

By the time he stirred awake, four hours had passed. During that window, I had watched three terribly written horror movies out of sheer boredom, which only made me more restless.

Seeing his eyelids flutter open, a spark of excitement reignited in my chest.

"Sorry about earlier," I said pleasantly. "I wanted to stuff you into the sack, but you're too tall. You wouldn't fit."

Damian glared up at me, his handsome features twisting in fury. "Is that supposed to be a regret?! Untie me right now! Do you have any idea what I am?!"

I rested my chin in my hands, sitting on a wooden stool. "I know. You're a vampire."

He went rigid.

"Which means," I smiled, "I definitely can't let you go."

I unknotted the temporary ropes around his wrists and replaced them with heavy-duty, industrial-grade steel shackles anchored to the floor.