They called him The Watcher. He was the man no one was safe from. You could run from him, but you could never escape. Because he had eyes everywhere. Every street corner, every rooftop. His men were like ghosts. No, they were wraiths. You only ever saw them right before your death. No one from the common world had ever laid eyes on The Watcher himself, for he was more of a legend or a story, to the cities he had come in contact with. He was a tale tired mothers told their children to scare them into behaving.

“You better be good, or The Watcher will come and snatch you right up.”

If only he was just a story, and not a living, breathing, nightmare.

Most of his men hadn’t even seen him. He was a king who ruled from the shadows, dark strings of authority controlling his followers like puppets. The Watcher controlled everything. The outside world was a front for the things this man did in the dark. He was symbolic of everything wrong with society. A villain like no other.

His name is Elias Brekker.

But she had called him Eli.

A man of sins and brutality. Some said his eyes were crimson and his skin was pitch. They claimed he had no features at all, that he was just some faceless beast. Many liked to think he was Lucifer in the flesh. They were wrong. The devil was more moral than he.

He has pearly white teeth and a gun in his coat. He is a savagely beautiful monster wrapped up in a bloodstained bow. He’s a man who’s kill count could rival that of a war. He lives for the thrill of the fight, the satisfaction of the kill. He wants to watch the world burn at his feet and become the king of the ashes. Cross him, and you are better off tasting the lead of your own bullet than let him get to you. Brekker has no mercy.

Those who meet him expect to see something from another world. But he isn’t. He’s human and that’s what makes him scarier. Terrifying in the way a human could so brutally slaughter his own with no remorse. Brekker is just a man who clawed his way to the top and killed those who dared stand in his way. He is the definition of immoral.

But God how he loved her.

Dark, silky hair with an undercut and eyes the color of bitter coffee. A jawline so sharp it could cut diamonds. Brekker looks like he was cut out of stone, a statue chiseled out a mountain and brought to life. His face is hard and his eyes are cold, nobodies ever seen him smile. At this point, nobody believes he can. All but one.

They had been fire and ice. Opposites that had attracted and fit together so tragically well. A relationship that burned with white-hot passion, that got far too messy. Brekker hadn’t meant to get involved, too attached. She probably hadn’t either. They were more than just tangled up in each other's bodies. No, their feelings had gotten thrown into the fray. He had been greedy. Brekker had allowed himself to have her, taking feelings he had no right to. She had been his guilty pleasure and lord had he indulged.

Pleasure layered upon pleasure until your drowning in ecstasy.

Brekker had drowned. Drowned in his own version of twisted love for her. He had fallen so hard that he had never gone back to his own country. No, he hadn’t been able to leave her behind. But he would never admit that. Brekker would claim he was just “seizing opportunities” in America.

In some way, he had. Little did she know, he was sinking his claws into the world around her. He was turning her town into his. The Watcher had come to South Carolina, and he wasn’t leaving without his southern belle.

If only Em would have known that such a beautiful man likeEli would have broken her beyond repair. But she also knew that no one could fix her- not even him. Quitely, she entered the building and sat in her usual seat and began her studies, drowing herself in the words to distract herself from the sweet nothings he used to whisper to her.

-four hours later-

Emery sighed as she excited her last class of the day, stopping to look around the place before she moved towards her car. Her phone buzzed, a text from an unknown number causing a frown to etch its way into her face.

'Meet me, Lunch?'

Emery bit her lip, thinking of a reply before agreeing to join the person for lunch and started to head towards - well, the only cafe they had in Boones. It was a small place, not much to see or do but it was home. The place she had found love and lost it. Ger heart seemed to quiver in pain at the thought of her once happu life now miserable and dead. But how could she be happy? He was like her drug and she needed a fix. But she couldnt have it. She was an addict for him, always feining for him.

Pulling up to the cafe, Small posters were taped onto the glass for the small class of 2020 congratulating them on their achievement. Inside booths the color of red and orange were linef against the walls, other table littering the cafe neatly. Emery was grateful for the noise, and the chatter as she moved towards the table where a man sat patiently waiting for her.

"Emmie." The man greeted with such politeness and happinnes to his words it was almost cute. Emery force a smile, hugging him back as he got up from the table and wrapped his arms tightly around her. Some people looking at them, and then going back to minding their business. The two sat in the booth, the window creating the perfect lighting to show case the two and for other tourists or just regualrs to come in and enjoy a meal- or two.

Emery focused on Travis who was eagerly talking about his new job here and how much he enjoyed his time with her the preveous night. "I would really love to take you out again." He added lastly, smiling. "I mean technically this is our second date." He mused, grabbing her hand from across the table.

"Sure. Though tonight i have work." She replied quitely, "And i have to go. Text me yea?" She murmured drawing her hand away from his to stand along with Travis. The pair hugged before going their separate ways- Emery back to her apartment and Travis back to doing whatever the hell he was doing before he bothered her. Granted, Travis was the single-handingly the best thing that could happen to her, being the sweet and caring guy he was; but her heart? It only belonged to one man.

{Another time change xP 9:30 P.M}

The water stung as it hit her bare shoulders, her eyes closed as she grapsed onto the wall for support. The tears couldnt be seen mixed with the water running down her face. It had been 30 minutes since she had started her shower, and the water was now stsrting to run cold. A shiver ran down her spine and she was forced to leave the shower which dreadfully reminded her of that night her life changed. She wrapped a towel around her body, another one around her red hair- once short now reaching her mid-back. Within minutes, she was dressed in her usual for work; ripped skinny jeans and a plain red t-shirt. She applied little makeup- sticking to her usual mascara and foundation before heading out her apartment.

Reaching her car, she drove for five minutes until she reached 'The place'. Emery locked up her car and headed inside the dark building where people were already sitting and drinking their booze. She slipped behind the counter, placing her jeys in her pocket and begining her night shift at the bar. Soon enough a short elderly woman came walking into the bar smiling as she headed towards Em. "Emery. Im glad your here." The woman spoke, her voice sweet yet ancient with a twang. Darlene was the bar owner, and quite frankly one of Emery's favorite people- the only one who understood her grief and pain. "I've sold the place!" Darlene yipped excitedly, "Now i can travel. Like me and my Ben always wanted." Emery smiled, "Well, not gonna lie im gonna miss this place. But im happy for you Mrs. Darlene. Who's the new owner? Anyone from around here?" Emery asked while cleaning a glass and setting the it where it belongs on the self. "Oh. Apprently this man owns several businesses here, inclueding the apartment buildings you stay in. Not sure who he is though- said he would rather it that way. He sent some lawyer to do the work." She huffed, "But i think i caught his name on the paperwork, Elvis? Maybe. Oh. I know. Elias Brekker."

Emery froze, the glass slipping from her hand and falling to the ground shattering on the cold floor. Her body went numb, and she stumbled back quickly trying to find an escape from her reality. No way in hell did he own the place. He was gone. He left. The air seemed go sucked out the room as she started to gasp for air; quickly rushing out into the back of the building; the ally empty, yet well lit from a lamp post.

Brekker. Brekker. Brekker. It sounded like “Breaker” if you repeated it enough. It was fitting, for a man who destroyed everything and left nothing. With dirty hands and a handsome face, he was a creature of havoc and misfortune.

Darlene. The woman had uttered his name. She had unknowingly put a target on her back by simply carrying on a conversation. The name Elias Brekker was a name that was never to be spoken. Word of her mistake would no doubt soon reach him and there would soon come a time where she would never speak again.

Brekker hated the color black as much as he hated disloyalty, yet now, as he stood out in the rainy streets, he was clad in it. Black coat, black slacks, and black shoes. It was easier to blend into the shadows when you looked like one. He was standing beneath an awning, a cigarette held between his fingers as he took a drawl. Brekker exhaled with a puff of smoke, the flickering lights above him casting an eerie glow on his form.

He flicked the ashes off the end of his cigarette, letting out a quiet sigh. Brekker had a detached look to him as he watched the rain. Thunder boomed overhead, following with a crackle of lightning. Another drawl, another forlorn sigh. Dark eyes met a dark night and it seemed like the ebony sky was the only thing darker than his heart.

He put out the cigarette with his boot, shoved his hands in his pockets, and began to walk. Click. Click. Click. The click of his boots echoed off the empty streets, unsettling in the way seemed like the sound of impending doom, and perhaps they were.

Brekker walked by the bar he had recently purchased. It was nothing too expensive, nor was it too high class. It was just a joint occupied mainly locals, nothing to bat an eye at. It was the perfect front. The lower floor would be your average bar, but as for the basement and second story, let's just say there would be nothing average, or legal about them.

Heavy breathing. Brekker’s head swiveled in an almost feral manner, one of his hands flying to the pistol in his coat. His eyes narrowed, the safety clicked off. He found confidence in the way the steel seemed to meld with his fingers, the weapon like an extension of himself. He gazed into the alley, his figure looming at its entrance, somewhat concealed by the only shadows the passageway offered.

As his eyes adjusted, straight brows furrowing as his eyes fell over the woman gasping for air. He relaxed, but only for a moment. As Brekker’s gaze danced over her form, recognition flashed in his dark orbs. He flinched and abruptly straightened. Then, for once in his life, The Watcher ran.

Emery. There was not a doubt in his mind that the woman in the alley was her. The one woman who continued to plague his mind, whose voice he could never forget. A low curse in Irish escaped his lips as he flew around the street corner, rain pounding against his shoulders. Brekker didn’t care, he couldn’t care. He needed to get away from her.

She wasn’t supposed to see him. She couldn’t see him. Brekker was a best-kept secret, something that was meant to be hidden from the world. He wasn’t the type of man you took home to meet your parents, the type you befriended, the type you married. Brekker was lethal in his toxicity, and boy did he know it.

The rain started to fall once again, leaving her standing in the rain, trying to grasp onto anything that wasnt spinning. She stepped forward, before she stumbled back and fell onto her arse with a string of curse words. A shadow danced across the wall, making her jump and almost scream out in horror, till she turned her head just a little- abd whst little light was there; she saw the man who once loved her beyond imagination. But he was gone within the blink of an eye. This had her scrambling up in fear, hope, but most importantly anger.

Emery stood there frozen in her place; the shadows creating images in her head. That couldn't have been him...yet something in her heart was screaming. So she did the only rational thing "Eli?.." She called, voice broken yet hopeful for him. Yearning. Moments that seemed like hours passed, until finally Darlene came rushing out into the back looking for her. "Emery?" She called into the ally. Pushing her fears and hopes away and headed back towards the bar; only hoping that this night would end soon. "Panic attack. Im fine." Was all she murmured to the elderly lady before following Em into the bar again.

Finally, the bar came to its closing time, only few men had hit in her tonight- souring her already bad mood. Ever since the ally way, she hadnt spoken a word unless it was about booze. What could she say though? Darlene had no idea who he was, hell it was even him. The world had a funny way of making things coincidental. Heading back towards her car, Emery wasnt really focused on much other then getting home.

Then...

-wack-

And everything went black, her lean body falling to the ground with a thud. And then two men started to work on getting her into their van. The streets empty and quite.

A kidnapping. One he had no involvement in. Word had reached his ears as soon as he had returned home. He was, after all, called The Watcher for a reason. “Who was it?” Brekker’s voice was rough over the phone as he peeled off his soaked clothes, “Did you get an ID on the victim?”

“Redheaded girl, slender figure, too dark to get anything else. It was near the bar you acquired. Probably just some sickos looking for a good time.”

Brekker’s knuckles turned white as he held the device with a death grip. His eyes narrowed to dark slits, and he ran a hand angrily through his hair. “Fuck…” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his heartbeat growing rapid. Brekker knew he shouldn’t get involved. He would be better off without her. But with a sharp inhale, he had already made up his mind.

“Tell me everything you know, we find that girl now.”

The heart is difficult. It brash and stupid, run by emotions that inhibit your decisions. It makes you messy. You lose all calculation as you become a slave to the feelings that wash over you in brutal waves. Brekker was a man who never, ever lost control. He always had his center, calm and collected in all situations. He was the epitome of a perfect savage. It seemed like there were no chinks in his armor. But there was. There was one, huge, gaping hole in the armor he wore.

Emery.

When it came to Emery, he became unpredictable. Brekker became raw with emotion and instinctive like an animal. He had no inhibitions. His only want, his only need, was her. Perhaps he was addicted, or even obsessed. No one could ever lay a hand on his lover and walk away alive.

The man spoke into the phone, relaying any information he could acquire. Security cameras were hacked into, every rooftop spy was questioned. But it didn’t make sense. These men had wanted Emery. They had been casing her apartment, the bar, and the college. Brekker cursed. How could his men have been so blind?

As the grunt ran over the description of the car again, Brekker had him pause. “The rims. What color were they?” I swear to God…

“The car's rims?”

“Yes,” He was growing impatient, “What color?”

“They look to be some sort of white gold sir.”

There was the horrific cracking sound as Brekker’s phone made contact with the wall. The man sputtered on the other line. Miraculously, the phone hadn’t completely broken. “I want Damocles contacted. Ask him what he wants for the girl.”

Tires squealed as Brekker’s car flew around a corner, his hands twisting the wheel with admirable skill. Rain spattered his windshield and thunder crashed rolled above. The car was silent, but his mind was not. It ran rampant, fearful and angry. Afraid of what they might do to her, furious with himself. He should have paid closer attention to her complex. The vans were a dead giveaway.

“The things you do to me, Emery… It drives me mad”

“Oh really?”

Brekker gritted his teeth, taking another sharp turn, nearly overcorrecting the vehicle and causing an accident. He pulled up to the house, sliding into a driveway that was kept conveniently clear. He slid his pistol into his pocket, slamming the car door shut with an echoing sound. The vehicle shuddered at the force of his gesture. He stalked up to the house, his clothes immaculate, but his hair was tousled from running his fingers through it far too many times. It was the only indicator of his stress. Although his face was unreadable, his heart was thumping against his chest. It was strong and loud, like a war drum. And perhaps, just perhaps, Elias Brekker was going to war.

“Let’s play a game.”

“What do I get if I win?”

“Me.”

Brekker let out a quiet growl as he knocked on the door, his hand thumping a steady staccato against the weathered oak. The door opened, and the man who greeted him shot him a crooked smile. “The Watcher…” The man trailed, “Tonight is the night you die.”

Brekker rolled his eyes, stepping inside, shoving his hands in his pockets. One hand gripped his gun, a finger patiently hovering above the trigger, waiting for the time to strike. Unfortunately, he was in no position to be killing tonight. Not when they had the only woman he had ever loved in their possession.

“Welcome, Mr. Watcher.” Someone purred, but Brekker knew better. He whipped around, eyes narrowing. Damocles. “Or should I say, Elias Brekker.” A grin of Cheshire danced across his face. This man knew he had the upper hand. He had discovered the one weakness of the infamous Watcher and exploited it.

It took all Brekker’s willpower not to crack. How did this man know his name? Had Emery given him up? No, she would never do such a thing. Unless she had. After all, what reason did she have for keeping Brekker’s identity a secret? She should fear for her life. I kill all who even consider betraying me. Then again, he would have never laid a hand on Emery, she had never had any reason to fear him.

“Damocles. I want the girl. What do you want?” He asked, his accent slightly thicker due to his heightened stress.

“You killed my brother”

“I’m aware.”

Damocles let out an animalistic snarl, pinning him to the wall with a loud thump. Brekker made no move to resist, his straight brows only furrowing on impact. “I’m going to take my time with you. I’m going to beat you till you beg for mercy…”

The man continued to list everything he would do to Brekker, from tearing off his fingernails to pulling teeth. None of it phased the younger mobster. Even when the other's grip on his bicep grew painfully tight, he did not flinch.

“Then I’m going to kill your girl, and make you watch.”

Brekker’s breath caught, and it didn’t go without being noticed. Damocles laughed, low and sick. “That struck a chord, didn’t it? The Watcher’s gone soft, how sad.“ Brekker’s lips twitched, and a gunshot rattled the walls of the house.

He had just shot Damocles in the foot. The man barrelled backward, and Brekker surged forward, pinning him on the couch, pistol pressed to his temple. It all happened so fast, none of his men could react. “You. Do not. Touch me.” He snarled, pressing the muzzle harder into the side of the man's head. It all happened so fast, by the time the other men came up the stairs, Brekker already had Damocles in his possession.

“You will all listen very carefully to my next words.” Brekker spoke, his voice colder than ice, “There is an ignition bomb fitted in my vehicle, if I trigger it, the car accelerates forward and explodes. It will kill all of us.” He announced, waving the remote with his free hand. Wide eyes connected with the device, and The Watcher already knew he had won. Damocles hadn’t brought enough men. Then again, there were never enough men to take down Elias Brekker.

“So, you’re going to bring me the girl.”

They hesitated. Another gunshot sounded and one of them slumped, blood oozing from his chest. The gun was pressed back to Damocles in flash, so fast no one could even process Brekker's deed.

“I SAID BRING ME THE GIRL!”

The man left the room shortly after, having knocked the now screaming Emery out with his pistil. It was time for Elias Brekker to die. Hours passed and finally the squeal of tires had everyone in the house armed and ready for the great Witcher.

When Emery awoke, blood stuck to her head from the gun that had knocked her out. And two men came bursting into the room frantically. They hurriedly unlocked the door to the cage and dragged her out by her arm. Hallways and hallways full of paintings lined the walls, but none stuck out like the one of Shawn. The dead brother. She closed her eyes, a tear slipping free as flashbacks hit her her all at once.

Coming into a large room, the only thing she heard was the sound of Eli yelling. She froze, her eyes going wide as she locked eyes with the person she once thought was a ghost. But now was now pinning the one who kidnapped her with a gun cocked and pressed to his head. "Elias.." She whispered, though she was sure he heard her after all it was pin drop silent, the only sound was his shouting and her thudding heart.

“Elias.”

Brekker’s eyes flickered to her. She was hurt. His dark gaze flashed as he saw the blood on her head. His nostrils flared as he contemplated shooting Damocles. He shook his head softly. No, that would make the war the man was already sure to declare bloodier. Killing a leader was a bold move that came with consequences. If you weren’t prepared for them, you and your empire would crumble.

Brekker beckoned her, escorting her to the door as he still held Damocles hostage. Once they were outside, no move would be made. More gunshots would attract more attention, and a body in a driveway came with a price they wouldn’t be willing to pay.

As soon as the pair slipped outside, Brekker thrust Damocles forward with a kick to his backside, and sprinted for the car. Snatching Emery’s hand, he thrust her inside the vehicle before promptly tearing out of the driveway.

Brekker’s brow was slick with sweat as he white-knuckled the wheel, navigating the city streets as best he could. Facade crumbling, his shoulders were so tense it seemed painful, and his face was fraught with indescribable emotions. He licked his lips, as they were dry and cracked. It took all the willpower he had left not to tremble.

Fear. Brekker had never known it. Not until tonight. Emery could have been further hurt or killed. He had thought by disappearing she would be safe. That she would just become another citizen in the lineup, not some target on the mobsters radar. Just being with him had put her in danger. Brekker knew that, but at the time, he had been too selfish to acknowledge it.

Even though Elias Brekker was a monster of a human, he had loved Emery. It was unconventional, yet undeniable. A man like him should have never fallen in love, but he had, and he fell hard. He regretted it. But the only reason he had his regrets was because in sharing his heart, he had caused her destruction.

Brekker pulled into his apartment complex, pulling the keys from the ignition and resting his head on the wheel for a few moments, gathering himself. “You’ll stay with me for tonight, they know where you live.” He raised his head, not meeting her gaze as he exited the car, beginning to lead the way up to his apartment.