(Mafia/ stalker × Dark romance author/ stalker) Alison Greenfield doesn't write love stories. She writes fixation, grief, and the kind of devotion that rots from the inside out. At 27, she's a bestselling dark romance author celebrating her tenth book when a casual night out leads her to something she shouldn't have found: an underground boxing match. She tells herself she goes because of her father-once a boxing coach, now a ghost in her memory. But that's not the truth. The truth is him. "Saint." Kiar Madrid. The undefeated fighter. The crowd's religion. Her new obsession. For four years, Alice builds a life around watching him without being seen-every fight, every appearance, every breath he takes in public becoming something she memorises like scripture. She thinks she's careful. She thinks she's the only one who turned obsession into routine. Until he walks into her book signing. And says something she never wrote down. Never posted. Never told a soul. A sentence from her first ever signing. Spoken exactly as she said it-years before he should've ever known her. That's when Alice realizes the sickest part of the story: She wasn't the only one learning how to love from a distance. She was just the one who started first.