Chapter 2

The morning sun cast a warm, golden light over Fairfield as Hailey walked the familiar path toward the house Mark lives in. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of salt from the nearby ocean, and a soft breeze played with the ends of her dirty blonde hair. Today felt different, charged with a sense of purpose she hadn't felt in a long time.

Mark was already on the porch when she arrived, his guitar resting against the weathered railing. He looked up as she approached, his expression as impassive as ever, but his eyes followed her closely.

"Come with me," Hailey said simply, her tone leaving little room for argument.

Mark studied her for a moment, then nodded silently and rose from his seat. He grabbed his guitar out of habit, slinging it over his shoulder before following her down the street. They walked in silence, the only sound being the rhythmic crunch of gravel underfoot.

After a short walk, they arrived at a modest, two-story house painted in soft shades of blue and white. It sat tucked away from the main road, surrounded by an overgrown garden that hinted at months of neglect. Mark frowned as they stopped in front of it.

"Whose house is this?" he asked, his voice carrying a note of suspicion.

Hailey reached into her bag and pulled out a worn, brass key. She smiled faintly as she slid it into the lock, the door creaking open under her touch. "It's my family's home," she replied, stepping inside and gesturing for Mark to follow.

Mark hesitated at the threshold, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Why'd you bring me here?"

Hailey didn't answer immediately, instead walking further into the house. The entryway opened into a cozy living room, filled with comfortable, well-worn furniture and shelves lined with framed photographs. She paused in the middle of the room, turning to face him.

"I want to show you something," she said softly, her tone both inviting and enigmatic.

Mark followed her inside, his eyes scanning the space warily. The house had a lived-in feel, the kind that comes with years of family memories. It was a sharp contrast to his own life, which had been filled with temporary stays and fleeting connections. He couldn't understand why she was sharing this with him, of all people. "You're weird," he said bluntly, though there was no malice in his voice. "How can you trust me so much?"

Hailey's expression softened, her eyes meeting his with an openness that caught him off guard. "I don't know," she admitted. "There's just something about you. Even with your rough exterior and cold personality, I feel like you can be trusted."

Mark didn't know how to respond to that, so he stayed silent, his gaze drifting back to the room around them. It was strange—this place was clearly important to her, yet she had brought him, a near-stranger, into it without a second thought. He couldn't decide if it was naive or brave.

As they walked through the house, their footsteps echoed softly against the wooden floors. The walls were adorned with family photos—snapshots of beach vacations, holiday dinners, and birthdays, all capturing moments of happiness and togetherness. Mark found himself glancing at them, curious despite himself.

"Where's your family?" he asked after a while, his voice low, almost as if he didn't want to disturb the stillness of the house.

"My dad's on a fishing expedition in Florida," Hailey replied, her fingers trailing along the back of a couch as she walked. "My mom's with him. They won't be back until the end of the year, so I have the whole house to myself."

Mark nodded, though a part of him felt uneasy. It wasn't like he had planned to do anything, but being alone with her in an empty house made him feel more vulnerable than he was comfortable with. He wasn't used to this—being trusted, being let in.

Hailey led him to a door at the end of the hallway. She opened it to reveal a small room filled with musical instruments—an upright piano, a couple of acoustic guitars, and an assortment of microphones. Sheet music was scattered across a desk, along with notebooks filled with handwritten lyrics and ideas.

"This is where I grew up playing music," Hailey said, her voice taking on a nostalgic tone. "I used to spend hours in here, just experimenting, trying to find my sound."

Mark looked around, taking it all in. The room was intimate, personal, and it was clear that it held a special place in her heart. He could see her here, a younger version of herself, full of dreams and ambition.

"This is why you brought me here?" he asked quietly, his eyes meeting hers. "To show me this?"

Hailey nodded. "I wanted you to see where it all started for me. This is where I found my love for music, where I wrote my first songs. I thought… maybe it could help you understand where I'm coming from, and why I want to work with you."

Mark's gaze lingered on her for a moment, and he felt something shift within him. She wasn't just another pop star looking for a quick hit—there was depth to her, a sincerity that resonated with him.

He nodded slowly. "Okay," he said, the word carrying more weight than it usually did. He didn't know where this partnership would lead, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like it might be worth finding out.

Mark took a deep breath as he stepped further into the music room, his gaze settling on the collection of instruments scattered around. There was something both comforting and intimidating about the space—comforting in the sense that it was clearly a place of creativity and passion, yet intimidating because of the sheer amount of resources at Hailey's disposal.

He picked up one of the guitars resting against the wall, running his fingers lightly over the strings. The wood was polished to a high sheen, and the weight of the instrument felt perfect in his hands. Mark recognized the brand immediately; it was top-of-the-line, the kind of guitar that only serious musicians or those with deep pockets could afford.

"This is a pretty expensive guitar," Mark remarked, his tone neutral as he examined it more closely. He glanced at Hailey, who was busy sorting through some sheet music on the desk. "Your family must've really invested in your music career."

Hailey looked up and met his gaze, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, they did," she said, her voice carrying a hint of gratitude. "They've always believed in me, even before I knew what I wanted to do with my life."

Mark nodded, setting the guitar back down carefully. He couldn't help but notice how many instruments were crammed into the room, each one meticulously cared for. "Why do you have so many instruments?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Hailey's expression softened as she walked over to a corner of the room. She bent down and pulled a blanket off what appeared to be a well-used drum set. The cymbals and drumheads were worn, with nicks and scratches that spoke of countless hours of practice. "Before I became a pop star, I was in a girl band," she explained, her eyes reflecting a mix of nostalgia and pride. "This was my setup—I was the drummer."

Mark raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "A drummer, huh?" he said, clearly impressed. "I had no idea you played instruments. I figured you were just the vocalist."

Hailey laughed softly, shaking her head. "We were all vocalists," she said, her tone affectionate as she recalled her bandmates. "We took turns singing lead, or sometimes we'd all sing together. It was chaotic but fun. My manager eventually picked me out to become a pop star, and my friends moved on to play elsewhere. We still keep in touch, though."

Mark watched her closely, noting the way her eyes lit up as she talked about her band. It was clear that those days meant a lot to her, even if she had moved on to bigger things. There was something endearing about the way she spoke of her past—no trace of arrogance or regret, just a deep love for the music and the memories she had created with her friends.

"So, you can actually play," Mark said, his smile widening just a fraction. "I guess I underestimated you."

Hailey grinned, a playful glint in her eyes. "Guess so," she replied, a hint of a challenge in her tone. "But I'll forgive you if you help me tune these drums. It's been a while, and I want to make sure they sound right."

Mark chuckled, stepping closer to the drum set. "Alright, fair enough," he said, rolling up his sleeves. "Let's see what we can do."

Hailey handed him a drum key, and Mark knelt beside the kit, expertly adjusting the tension on the drumheads. As he worked, Hailey watched intently, her hands resting lightly on the snare. There was a comfortable silence between them, filled only by the soft clicks of the drum key and the occasional hum of a guitar string.

Once the drums were tuned to perfection, Mark stood up, brushing his hands off on his jeans. "There you go," he said, his tone a bit more relaxed now that they had found some common ground. "Should sound pretty good now."

Hailey tapped the snare drum lightly, testing the sound. A satisfied smile spread across her face as she looked up at him. "Thanks," she said genuinely. "Now, how about we play something together?"

Mark hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Sure," he agreed, picking up one of the guitars again. "What do you want to play?"

Hailey thought for a moment, then suggested a simple, upbeat rhythm that she used to play with her band. Mark quickly caught on, strumming a few chords to match her beat. The room filled with the sound of their collaboration, the melody taking shape as they found a groove together.

For the first time, Mark felt a sense of ease around Hailey, a connection that was born not from words but from the music they were creating. And as the rhythm filled the room, both of them lost in the moment, it was clear that this was just the beginning of something deeper—something neither of them had anticipated, but both were eager to explore.

As the last notes of their impromptu jam session faded, Hailey and Mark found themselves surrounded by the deepening twilight. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting shadows across the room and tinting the sky with shades of orange and pink. It had been hours since they'd started playing, but the time had flown by unnoticed, lost in the rhythm and melodies they had created together.

Mark set the guitar down gently, glancing out the window at the darkening sky. "We should call it a night," he suggested, a rare note of reluctance in his voice.

Hailey nodded in agreement, though part of her wanted to stay in the moment just a little longer. The connection they'd formed through their music felt special, almost like a secret only they shared. As they left the house and began the short walk back to Mark's place, the cool evening air washed over them, refreshing after the warmth of the music room.

"You're a basket of talents, Hailey," Mark said.

Hailey giggled, the sound light and carefree. "And we sound great together," she replied, playfully nudging his arm with her shoulder. "Maybe we should perform as a duet. What do you think? 'Hailey and Mark: Live in Concert' has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Mark smirked, shaking his head. "I'm not much of a performer, but I'll admit it was fun. But you're the star here, not me."

Before Hailey could respond, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, expecting it to be a message from one of her old friends. But as she glanced at the screen, her smile faded, replaced by a furrowed brow. The number was unknown, and the message was short but unsettling:

"Good job on your album! You two make a great team."

The words sent a shiver down her spine. It was strange, almost as if whoever sent it had been watching them. Mark, noticing the shift in her demeanor, leaned over to look at the screen.

"What's going on?" he asked, his voice low and cautious.

Hailey handed him the phone, her hand trembling slightly. "Look at this," she said, her voice shaky.

Mark read the message, his expression darkening. "Looks like someone's been keeping tabs on us," he muttered, handing the phone back to her. "Is it someone you know?"

Hailey shook her head, her thoughts racing. "I don't think so. I don't recognize the number, and I've never seen anything like this before." Her voice trailed off, uncertainty creeping in.

Mark frowned, scanning their surroundings. The street was quiet, the only sounds coming from the distant crash of waves against the shore and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. Nothing seemed out of place, yet the message suggested otherwise.

"This is your hometown," Mark said, trying to sound reassuring. "Maybe it's just an old friend messing with you. Could be someone who knows about your music and got your number somehow."

"But why text from an unknown number?" Hailey wondered aloud, her unease growing.

Mark grunted, his gaze shifting to the darkened windows of the nearby houses. The night felt a little too quiet now, the shadows a little too deep. "People do weird things sometimes," he replied, though there was a hint of doubt in his voice. "It's probably just a fan being intrusive."

Hailey nodded, though the explanation did little to ease her nerves. The message had been too specific, too knowing. It felt less like a fan's enthusiasm and more like someone was deliberately trying to unsettle her. She shivered, and Mark noticed.

"Look," he said, his tone firmer now, "if it happens again, you should tell someone. Don't take any chances."

Hailey forced a smile, grateful for his concern. "Yeah, I will," she promised, though part of her didn't want to worry anyone just yet. She slipped her phone back into her pocket, trying to push the message out of her mind.

As they continued down the street, the moment of playful banter between them had passed, replaced by a lingering tension. Mark kept his hands in his pockets, his gaze shifting back and forth as if he were scanning the shadows for any sign of danger. Hailey walked a little closer to him than before, comforted by his silent presence.

When they finally reached Mark's place, he stopped at the porch, turning to face her. "You going to be alright?" he asked, his voice softer now.

Hailey nodded, though her thoughts were still clouded by the cryptic message. "Yeah, I'll be fine," she said, more for his benefit than her own.

Mark didn't look entirely convinced, but he let it go. "Alright then. You know where to find me if you need anything."

Hailey smiled at that, feeling a bit of warmth return despite the unease that lingered. "Thanks, Mark. For everything today."

He shrugged, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "Don't mention it."

As Hailey turned to leave, she cast one last glance at Mark. Despite his aloof demeanor, she was beginning to see the layers beneath his rough exterior—a mix of kindness, protectiveness, and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on.

The walk back to her family's house felt longer than usual, the shadows seeming to stretch endlessly across the pavement. She kept her hand on her phone, half-expecting it to buzz again with another message. But as she arrived home and locked the door behind her, the night remained quiet.

Even so, Hailey couldn't shake the feeling that something—or someone—was watching.

The next morning, Hailey made her way back to Mark's place, her steps slower than usual. As she approached the porch, Mark noticed her right away. Even from a distance, it was clear that something was off—her eyes were red and puffy, her usually bright expression dulled by exhaustion.

"You look like you didn't sleep at all," Mark said as soon as she reached him, his tone a mix of concern and curiosity.

Hailey rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of her sleepless night. "I didn't," she admitted, her voice weary. "I was too scared to close my eyes. I kept thinking about that text and couldn't calm down."

Mark's brow furrowed as he processed her words. He had expected her to be a little shaken, but he hadn't anticipated it would affect her this much. "Look, I get it," he began, his voice steady and reassuring. "This is a small town. I haven't been here long, but I've noticed that people don't take kindly to strangers causing trouble. If some creep is sneaking around, people are going to hear about it soon. They'll put a stop to it."

Hailey nodded, though the fear still lingered in her eyes. "I know, but it's just the idea of someone watching me… I don't feel comfortable, even knowing it's probably nothing."

Mark paused for a moment, thinking it over. Then, an idea struck him. "Maybe it's just the paparazzi," he suggested, his tone casual. "I mean, we've been hanging out a lot the past few days. Maybe someone's gotten the wrong idea and thinks we're a couple. They might be trying to get something to gossip about."

Hailey sighed, the tension in her shoulders easing a bit. "You might be right. I've dealt with photographers before—they can be really persistent, especially if they think they've got a story."

Mark nodded, satisfied that he might have found a reasonable explanation. "The message didn't sound threatening, right? Just weird. We shouldn't worry too much."

Hailey took a deep breath, feeling a little more grounded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm sorry for freaking out. I just… I don't know. I couldn't help it."

Mark shook his head, his expression softening. "There's nothing to apologize for," he said firmly. "It's normal to feel that way when something like this happens. Anyone would be on edge."

Hailey managed a small smile, her gratitude clear in her eyes. "Thanks for understanding, Mark. You've been really kind."

Mark shrugged, trying to downplay the compliment, though he appreciated it. "It's nothing," he said, then stood up, a thought crossing his mind. "Tell you what—how about we get some ice cream? Might help take your mind off things."

Hailey's mood visibly brightened at the mention of ice cream, a hint of her usual cheer returning. "Ice cream sounds perfect," she agreed, the weariness lifting just a bit from her voice.

Mark smiled—a rare, genuine one—and gestured for her to follow him. "Come on, there's a place nearby that's pretty good."

After they finished their ice cream, Hailey's spirits had noticeably lifted. The cold treat had done wonders for her mood, and as they continued to stroll through the town, she found herself laughing more freely, the tension from the previous night slowly melting away.

As they wandered the quaint streets, they came across a small music store, its windows filled with vinyl records and CDs. The vibrant covers beckoned them inside, offering a nostalgic trip through music history.

Mark paused, eyeing the store. "How about we check it out?" he suggested, a grin forming on his face. "Might be a good way to take our minds off things."

Hailey agreed eagerly, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "Sounds perfect!"

Inside, the store was a treasure trove of musical gems. Rows of vinyl records, CDs, and even a few cassettes lined the walls, the faint smell of aged paper and plastic mixing with the subtle scent of wood polish. The soft hum of an old-school speaker system filled the air, playing a classic rock tune that neither of them could quite place.

They each grabbed a set of headphones and started sampling tracks, sharing their discoveries with one another. Before long, they were swept up in the music, lost in a world of sound. Mark picked up an old guitar riff, playing air guitar with a level of intensity that had Hailey in stitches. Not one to be outdone, Hailey grabbed a pair of imaginary drumsticks and began pounding out a beat, her energy infectious.

"You're so cool!" Hailey shouted over the music, her face flushed with excitement.

Mark smirked, his usual reserved demeanor completely gone in the moment. "You're pretty hot yourself," he shot back, his voice full of playful confidence.

For a few blissful hours, they were in their own world, performing for an imaginary audience as if they were on stage together, feeding off each other's energy. The worries and fears of the previous night seemed like a distant memory.

But eventually, the store began to close, the shopkeeper giving them a polite but firm reminder that it was time to leave. As they stepped outside, the sky had taken on the deep hues of dusk, the last light of the day fading into twilight.

"That was fun," Hailey said, her voice light and happy. "I needed that."

"Yeah, it was," Mark agreed, stuffing his hands into his pockets as they started walking back.

But then Hailey stopped suddenly, her head tilting slightly as if straining to hear something. Mark noticed her change in demeanor immediately. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice low, eyes sharp with concern.

Hailey's voice trembled as she answered, "I heard something… from over there." She pointed in the direction she was facing, her finger slightly shaking.

Mark didn't hesitate. "Stay here," he said, his voice firm as he darted off toward the sound. Hailey watched him go, her heart pounding in her chest.

It wasn't long before Mark reappeared, but he wasn't alone. He was restraining a man, gripping him by the arm with a firm, unyielding hold. The man was struggling, but Mark's grip was strong.

Hailey gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she recognized the man Mark had caught. "Tae?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Mark caught the look of recognition on her face and asked, "You know him?"

Hailey nodded, her mind racing as she processed what was happening. "He's… he's Tae. My former manager." She hesitated, the words catching in her throat. "And… my ex-boyfriend. He's the one who inspired my first album."

Mark's eyes narrowed as he took in this new information. He looked at Tae, then back at Hailey, a mixture of frustration and protectiveness flashing across his face. "Why is he following us?" he demanded, his voice low and tense.

Tae, now realizing he wasn't going to win against Mark's strength, stopped struggling and looked at Hailey, his eyes pleading. "Hailey, please, I didn't mean to scare you. I just… I needed to talk to you."

Mark's grip tightened for a moment before he let go, pushing Tae forward firmly. "Scram," he said coldly, his eyes hard as steel.

Tae stumbled back, hesitating for a moment as if he wanted to say more, but the look on Mark's face made him think twice. Without another word, Tae turned and ran, disappearing into the twilight.

Mark watched him go, his posture tense, before turning back to Hailey. "Why is he here?" he asked, his voice softer now, but still carrying a hint of frustration.

Hailey looked down, her emotions a swirl of confusion, guilt, and relief. "We ended things some time ago. I never expected him to show up here… not like this." Hailey's mind went back to the days when he pushed her to make music. Long days of writing empty songs and strict diets to keep her career going. She hated those days, and she refuses to go back to that life.

Mark sighed, running a hand through his hair as he processed everything. "So, that loser is the one who inspired your first album?"

Hailey nodded, her voice tinged with sadness. "Yeah… I was in love with him, and that's what drove me to write those songs. But things didn't work out, and I left him and my career."

Mark remained silent for a moment, processing what she had said. "And now he's following you around?"

"I guess so," Hailey replied, feeling a fresh wave of unease. "I don't know why he's doing this, but it scares me. I just… I just want to move on from that part of my life."

Mark's expression softened as he saw the vulnerability in her eyes. "We'll figure it out," he said, his voice steady and reassuring. "You're not alone in this, okay?"

Hailey looked up at him, a mixture of gratitude and lingering fear in her eyes. "Thanks, Mark. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Mark shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You'd probably be fine. But for now, let's just get you home."

As they walked back in silence, the shadows of the past seemed to loom larger, but Hailey took comfort in knowing that Mark was there beside her. Whatever Tae's intentions were, she felt a little more at ease knowing she had someone she could trust to help her through it.

After the unsettling encounter with Tae, Mark walked Hailey home, his face a mask of determination. As they approached her front door, Mark stopped and turned to face her. "I'm going to talk to the cops," he said firmly. "Since you're a celebrity, they'll have no problem keeping an eye on your place. We're not taking any chances."

Hailey nodded, grateful for his decisiveness. "Thank you, Mark," she whispered, her voice filled with appreciation.

Mark's gaze softened as he looked at her. "If anything happens—anything at all—don't hesitate to come find me," he said, his tone serious. "I'll do whatever I can to help."

Hailey looked up at him, feeling a wave of gratitude. "I promise," she said. "If anything happens, I'll let you know."

With a nod, Mark turned and walked away, heading toward the police station. Hailey watched him go, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. She knew Mark was right, and it eased her mind knowing the police would be keeping watch over her home.

At the police station, Mark relayed everything that had happened. The officers were understanding and immediately agreed to have a patrol car stationed outside Hailey's house for the night. Knowing that Hailey would have this extra layer of protection brought Mark some peace of mind.

The following morning, Hailey woke up feeling a little more at ease. She stretched and walked to her window, peeking outside. The cop car that had been parked out front was gone, presumably having left as their night shift ended. The early morning light bathed the street in a soft glow, and for a moment, Hailey allowed herself to believe that the worst was over.

But as she approached her front door and reached for the handle, a chill ran down her spine. Something felt off. She hesitated for a moment before slowly opening the door. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw Tae standing right outside, his expression desperate.

"Hailey, please, just talk to me," Tae begged, his voice shaky as he stepped closer.

Panic surged through Hailey. She slammed the door shut and locked it, her hands trembling. Tae knocked on the door, his voice muffled but pleading. "Hailey, please! I just want to talk! I need to explain!"

Before Hailey could respond, she heard another voice outside—Mark's, strong and commanding. "Get the hell out of here!" he shouted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

There was a brief, tense silence, and then she heard the sound of footsteps retreating rapidly. Mark knocked on the door a moment later. "Tae's gone," he called out, his voice softer but still firm.

Hailey hesitated before unlocking the door and opening it. The moment she saw Mark standing there, a wave of emotion crashed over her. She rushed forward, burying her face in his chest as tears began to fall. "I was so scared," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

Mark grunted softly, awkwardly wrapping an arm around her. "It's okay," he murmured, trying to soothe her. But there was an edge to his voice, a barely contained anger. "I'm going to find him and make him stop. This has gone too far."

Hailey's grip on his shirt tightened, and she quickly shook her head. "No, Mark. Leave him alone," she said urgently, pulling back slightly to look up at him. "I don't want you to get involved. Please."

There was a long pause as Mark stared down at her, his expression hard. It was clear that every instinct in him was telling him to confront Tae, to end this once and for all. But as he looked into Hailey's tear-filled eyes, something in him softened. He sighed heavily, nodding slowly. "Fine," he said, his voice low. "But he better not push his luck."

Hailey nodded, relieved that he agreed. She wiped her tears, trying to regain some composure. "Thank you, Mark," she said softly, her voice still shaky.

Mark glanced away, his jaw clenched. "Just stay safe, okay?" he muttered, his protective instincts still simmering beneath the surface.

"I will," Hailey promised, her heart still pounding in her chest.

Mark gave her a final nod before stepping back. "I'll be around if you need me," he said, his voice gruff. With that, he turned and walked away, his posture tense as he disappeared down the street.

Hailey watched him go, a mix of gratitude and fear swirling inside her. She knew that Mark would do anything to protect her, but she also knew that involving him further could lead to more trouble. She just hoped that Tae would take the hint and stay away. But deep down, a part of her feared that this was far from over.

Over the next few days, Mark took it upon himself to keep a vigilant watch over the town. He was always on the move, patrolling the quiet streets and scanning every corner, every shadow. He wasn't sure if Tae had left town, but he wasn't taking any chances. His presence alone was meant to be a deterrent, a silent warning that Hailey was not to be disturbed.

But one evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky turned a deep shade of blue, Mark spotted Tae lurking near Hailey's house. Tae moved cautiously, his head darting around as if trying to avoid being seen. Mark's blood boiled as he watched Tae slink around, clearly up to no good.

Mark followed him at a distance, staying hidden in the growing darkness. Tae seemed unaware that he was being tailed, too focused on his own covert movements. They continued like this for several minutes until Tae wandered into a secluded alleyway, far from the prying eyes of the public. It was the perfect place for a confrontation.

Without warning, Mark closed the distance between them, grabbing Tae by the collar and slamming him against the rough brick wall of the alley. He pulled out a knife and held it close to his throat. Tae gasped, shock and fear flashing across his face as he tried to regain his composure. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he hissed, trying to mask his fear with anger. "I'm wealthy. You touch me, I'll press charges! You'll be in jail before you know it!"

Mark leaned in closer, his lips curling into a wicked smile. "Relax," he said, his voice dangerously calm. "I haven't done anything to you. Not yet, anyway."

Tae's eyes darted around, looking for an escape, but there was none. He could feel the cold, hard wall against his back and the unyielding grip of Mark's hand on his collar. There was no getting out of this easily.

Mark's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he stared down Tae. "Listen carefully," he said, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "If I ever see you near Hailey's house again, or anywhere near her for that matter, I'll make sure no one ever finds you. By the time they do, I'll be old and retired, and nobody will give a damn about what I did to you."

Tae tried to maintain his bravado, but the threat in Mark's voice was undeniable. "You… You're bluffing," Tae stammered, though his voice lacked conviction. "You wouldn't dare."

Mark's grip tightened, and he leaned in even closer, his eyes burning with intensity. "Are you brave enough—or stupid enough—to find out?" he growled.

The silence in the alley was deafening. Tae could feel the weight of Mark's words pressing down on him, and for a moment, he was certain that Mark would follow through on his threat. Panic surged through him as he realized just how serious Mark was.

Mark, sensing Tae's fear, shoved him aside, letting him stumble and catch his footing. Tae looked up at him, his face pale and his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. Without another word, he turned and fled, his footsteps echoing in the narrow alley as he disappeared into the night.

Mark watched him go, his heart still pounding with adrenaline. He stood there for a moment, letting the tension in his muscles slowly ebb away. Satisfied that he had sent a clear message, Mark put his knife away and walked back toward the main street, his mind already shifting to Hailey. He had done what he needed to do, and now all that was left was to hope that Tae had the sense to stay away.

As he walked back through the quiet streets, Mark couldn't shake the lingering anger, the deep-rooted need to protect Hailey at all costs. But for now, at least, he had bought her some peace. And for now, that was enough.