Page 12 of The Bratva Stalker's Ruthless Claim

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I slow slightly.

Probably nothing.

Delivery driver.

Uber waiting for someone.

Campus security patrol.

I keep walking.

My car chirps when I unlock it, the sound unusually loud in the quiet lot.

I slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine.

The black sedan doesn’t move.

I pull out of my space and head toward the exit.

Still nothing.

See?

Paranoia.

I roll onto the main road that leads out of campus.

And then—

Headlights flick on behind me.

The sedan pulls out of its spot.

My stomach tightens.

Coincidence.

Probably coincidence.

I drive another block.

The car stays behind me.

I make a sudden right turn onto a side street I never take.

The sedan turns too.

My pulse begins to spike.

Okay.

Still coincidence.

Maybe they’re going the same direction.

I switch lanes abruptly.

The sedan mirrors the movement almost instantly.

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