I made a promise to a dying man. Watch Hana. When my friend was murdered in prison, serving a sentence I should have been doing with him, I vowed I’d look out for his little sister. I kept my word.
Hunted her down. Watched her 24/7. It’s been six years of watching her from a distance, but now she’s here, standing in front of me. My obsession spirals, and I lose control.
I break all the rules to make her mine. But the closer I get to Hana Monroe, the more I wonder if I misheard my friend. Maybe he didn’t say, ‘watch Hana’.
Maybe he actually said, ‘watch out for Hana,’ because I’m starting to feel less like the protector and more like her prey.
