Stalking Mr. Angelic Face

Airen had always been followed. By admirers, by enemies, by those who wanted a piece of the Voronezhsyk fortune. But this time, something was different. The presence watching him was not just lurking-it was breathing down his neck, a shadow woven into his daily life.

It started with little things. His favorite coffee, already paid for before he even reached the counter. A note slipped under his penthouse door, written in a messy scrawl:
"You look beautiful today, Angel."

He didn't scare easily, but he wasn't amused either. He didn't need another obsessive fool trying to win his attention. He crushed the note and tossed it away.

But the stranger didn't stop.

Airen could feel it-the gaze that never left him, even in the most private moments. Walking through his family's towering estate, he sensed someone lingering just beyond his reach. A car with tinted windows parked outside his favorite bar. The faint scent of expensive cologne clinging to places it shouldn't be.

And then, one night, he caught a glimpse of him.

A figure stood beneath the dim glow of a streetlight, dressed in black, head tilted slightly as if admiring a masterpiece. Airen's heartbeat slowed, then quickened. He couldn't make out the man's face, but the intensity of the stare sent a thrill down his spine.

He should have called security. He should have turned away.

But he didn't.

Instead, Airen smirked.

"Are you that desperate to have me?" he whispered to himself, stepping back into the shadows. "Let's see how far you'll go."

He didn't know then that the game had already begun. And in this twisted game of hunter and prey-Airen wasn't sure if he was truly the one being hunted.