Enticing 55 (Patreon)

"Alright. You are right on track," the obstetrician said, his voice calm and reassuring as he wiped the gel off Y/N's tummy. The room was filled with the gentle hum of the ultrasound machine, and the soft glow of the screen illuminated the space.

"How are you feeling?" the doctor inquired, glancing between Y/N and Harry. It had been a few moments of utter silence since the scan had started, and he was keen on checking in.

"Fine," Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes remained fixed on the screen, where they had just seen their baby's tiny form moving about.

"We've been going through a difficult situation at home," Harry explained, his hand reaching out to gently caress the side of Y/N's face. The weight of recent events hung heavy in the air, and it was a relief to finally be in the presence of a medical professional.

“I understand. As long as you are taking time for yourself and your mental health. I am sure things will be fine. The baby seems to not be affected. Are you ready for her?”

"As ready as we can be," Harry added, his voice filled with a mix of determination and worry. He helped Y/N sit up, pulling her shirt down gently as the doctor finished up his notes.

The doctor chuckled softly, a warm smile on his face. "It's understandable to feel a bit overwhelmed, especially with everything going on. But you're doing great, both of you."

Y/N nodded, her eyes flickering between Harry and the doctor. She couldn't shake the worry that had settled in her chest, the fear of the unknown. But in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of Harry's touch and the reassurance of the doctor's words, she felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, everything would turn out alright.

"Are you taking the rest of the day off?" Harry asked Y/N, concern evident in his eyes as they stood in the lobby of the medical center, waiting for their ride to pick them up.

"No," she shook her head, her voice firm with determination. Despite the stress and anxiety weighing heavily on her, Y/N was resolute in her decision to work until the very last day of her pregnancy. "I have a few things to take care of."

Harry frowned, his heart aching at the sight of her burdened with worries. He gently wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her close against his chest, offering what comfort he could. His hand moved in soothing circles on her lower back, trying to ease the tension that knotted her muscles.

"I'm sorry, darlin'. I wish I could do more," he whispered softly, his voice filled with regret. Y/N rested her head against his chest, finding solace in the steady beat of his heart. Harry had been working tirelessly with his security team, trying to ensure that James would never have the chance to harm her again. But the fear lingered, a constant shadow in the back of their minds. James had proven to be elusive, always finding a way to slip past their defenses.

Their two cars pulled up, the drivers waiting to take them to their respective offices.

"I love you," Harry murmured as they stepped outside, their arms still wrapped around each other. He held her close for a moment longer, his gaze searching her face with concern. "Please be careful," he added, his voice filled with worry as her door was opened by one of her two bodyguards. Harry had recently hired them, hoping to increase her safety and minimize any potential threats.

"I will. I'll call you when I get to the office," Y/N reassured him, her eyes meeting his with a soft smile. Harry nodded, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her lips before reluctantly letting her go and watching as she got into the car.

As they drove through the city streets, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered within her. The events of the past weeks had left her on edge, constantly watching over her shoulder. She knew Harry was doing everything he could to keep her safe, but the fear of James finding her again loomed over her like a dark cloud.

Arriving at her office building, Y/N thanked her bodyguards and stepped out onto the bustling sidewalk. The familiar sights and sounds of the city did little to ease her nerves today. She made her way through the lobby, exchanging brief greetings with her coworkers as she headed to her office.

Once inside, Y/N tried to focus on her work, burying herself in spreadsheets and reports. But the ominous message from earlier kept creeping into her mind, unsettling her. She couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, of being hunted.

After what felt like an eternity, Y/N decided to take a break and stepped out onto the balcony of her office. The fresh air helped clear her mind momentarily, but the sense of unease persisted. She glanced around, half-expecting to see James lurking in the shadows.

"Get it together, Y/N," she muttered to herself, shaking her head as if to dispel the dark thoughts. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart.

Just then, her phone buzzed in her pocket, startling her. She pulled it out to see a text from Harry.

"Made it to the office, okay?" the message read.

Y/N quickly typed out a reply, "Yes, everything's fine. Just taking a break on the balcony."

Almost immediately, her phone buzzed again with another message from Harry.

"Good. I love you. I made a reservation for you at the spa and for you to get your nails and hair done" He wanted for her to have a day for herself. “It’s at seven”

The words brought a small smile to Y/N's lips, a flicker of warmth amidst the fear. She typed back a quick "Thank you and I love you too" before slipping her phone back into her pocket.

Around five o'clock, Y/N shut down her computer and gathered her things, ready to leave for the day. Chuck, her personal bodyguard, was waiting for her as usual.

"How was your day, Ms. Y/L/N?" Chuck asked politely as they walked towards the elevator.

"Good, thank you," she replied with a smile, stepping into the elevator beside him. "Are you married, Chuck?" Y/N inquired, attempting to strike up a conversation.

"No, ma'am. Divorced," Chuck replied succinctly, his expression remaining professional as always.

Y/N nodded in understanding, the brief conversation filling the otherwise silent elevator ride. When the doors opened to the lobby, they stepped out into the bustling building.

As Chuck guided Y/N towards the waiting car outside, her eyes fell upon him standing by the couches in the lobby's visiting area. It was James. His dark smile sent a chill down her spine, and he waved at her with a sickening familiarity. Instantly, Y/N's body tensed, her heart racing at the sight of him. She was thankful that the lobby was bustling with people, though they seemed oblivious to the sinister figure.

“Ma’am?” Chuck noticed her sudden halt and discomfort, following her gaze to the man standing there. “Come on. Let’s go. Don’t pay any attention to him,” he urged, his grip firm on her arm as he led her swiftly towards the main entrance. Chuck knew the protocol well; Harry had made it clear, and their lawyers had reiterated. They couldn't act against him without evidence, despite Y/N's fear and the clear signs of stalking and harassment. For now, all they could do was keep her safe and away from him.

As they reached the safety of the car, Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. Chuck opened the door for her, and she quickly slid into the backseat followed by him, her eyes still darting back to the man in the lobby. He was now talking to one of the receptionists, but his eyes never left her.

“Let’s go,” she said urgently, her voice betraying her anxiety to her drive.

“Yes, ma’am,” He replied, as they pulled away from the office, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. She kept glancing out the window, half-expecting to see him following them.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” Chuck asked, concern evident in his voice.

“I'm fine,” Y/N replied, though her voice trembled slightly. “It's just… he's everywhere. I can't escape him.”

“Nothing will happen to you” Chuck reassured as he quickly texted the rest of security team and Harry too about what had just happened.

Unbeknownst to the couple, across from the serene expanse of Central Park, events had taken a turn far more sinister and dark than they could have ever imagined. James stood before another brownstone house, a residence that seemed to have been lifted straight from the pages of an interior design magazine. Like every other house he had visited recently, this one was fortified with security measures.

However, James had not left anything to chance. He had meticulously studied the house for months, memorizing everyone's schedules, observing from the shadows with a meticulous patience. His mind was set on a singular, obsessive purpose, and nothing would deter him from it.

As the evening sky darkened, James slipped silently through the shadows, blending seamlessly with the cloak of nightfall. He knew the routines, the patterns of the security guards, and the vulnerabilities of the premises. With a chilling determination, he made his way towards the house, his mind consumed with a singular thought: revenge. Revenge for the perceived wrongs, revenge for the lost love, and revenge for the life that had slipped through his fingers.

As he approached the house, a malevolent gleam flickered in his eyes, hidden in the darkness. The time for patience was over; tonight, he would make his presence known. The security cameras, meant to deter intruders, only served to taunt him as he expertly avoided their gaze.

With a swift, almost effortless motion, James slipped through a partially open window on the ground floor. The interior of the house was a stark contrast to the elegance of its exterior. It was quiet, save for the occasional creak of floorboards under his weight.

Moving with the stealth of a predator, James made his way through the house, his footsteps barely making a sound. He was fueled by a dark determination, his mind focused on the target that awaited him.

Finally, he reached the room he sought.

Tonight, the world would know his wrath. Tonight, he would ensure that no one stood in the way of his vengeance. With a chilling resolve, James brought the knife down, the sound of the blade slicing through the air echoing through the bedroom.

Pushing the door open slowly, James stepped into the room. His target lay asleep in bed, their form illuminated by the soft glow of a bedside lamp.

Without a moment's hesitation, James moved towards the bed. He could feel the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins, the thrill of the hunt consuming him.

With a swift, fluid motion, James raised the knife he had brought with him and plunged it into their chest.  The sound of flesh tearing and the gurgle of blood filled the room, mingling with their shocked gasp of pain.

James said nothing, his eyes filled with a cold, unfathomable rage as he watched the life drain from their eyes. He twisted the knife, ensuring that the deed was done, before withdrawing it with a wet, sickening sound. He didn’t stop because the abuse on the body continued until he felt satisfied and he grew tired.