The day had started off normally, or as normal as Camille's life had been since the stalker threats began. She was heading to a routine photoshoot for a high-fashion brand, one of the few commitments her dad had reluctantly allowed after the increased security measures. With Shawn, Josh, and the police on high alert, Camille had convinced herself that she was safe. They were closing in on the stalker, and it was only a matter of time before he was caught.

The studio was bustling with activity when she arrived—photographers adjusting their cameras, makeup artists flitting around models, and stylists prepping outfits. Camille had always loved the energy of the fashion world, the adrenaline of stepping in front of the camera. But today, an eerie sense of unease hung over her.

Her private security had accompanied her to the location, staying close, but not intruding. Shawn had insisted on them being there, and Josh had personally vouched for the firm. Still, as she got ready for the shoot, Camille couldn’t shake the lingering sense of dread that had followed her for weeks.

The first half of the photoshoot went off without a hitch. Camille was in the zone, her face calm and composed despite the storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. She glanced at her phone between shots, noticing a sweet message from Josh wishing her good luck. It was the little things like that that helped her feel grounded.

But then, during a break, everything shifted.

Camille was in the dressing room alone, freshening up between sets. She had told the security team she'd only be a minute and that she'd be fine. She needed a few moments to herself, away from the constant presence of guards and tension. But just as she finished fixing her hair, she heard a noise—a subtle click that sent a shiver down her spine.

She turned around, her heart skipping a beat, but saw nothing. Her phone buzzed again, and she picked it up absentmindedly, assuming it was Josh or her dad checking in. But the message made her blood run cold.

**Unknown Number**: You’re all alone now. Just like I planned.

Before she could react, the lights in the dressing room flickered, and the door behind her creaked open. Camille’s breath caught in her throat as she turned, her hands shaking. A figure emerged from the shadows, wearing a dark hoodie and gloves. The face was obscured, but there was no mistaking who it was.

Her stalker.

Panic surged through her body as she backed away, her heart hammering in her chest. She opened her mouth to scream, but the figure moved quickly, too quickly, grabbing her from behind and covering her mouth with a cloth. The scent of chemicals filled her senses, and everything around her started to blur. Her vision darkened, and her limbs felt heavy as she struggled in vain. The last thing she remembered was the terrifying feeling of being dragged into darkness.

---

When Camille woke, her head pounded, and her mouth was dry. Everything felt wrong. She was no longer in the dressing room, no longer surrounded by the bustling noise of the photoshoot. Instead, she found herself in a cold, dimly lit room. Her hands were tied to the back of a chair, and her ankles were bound to its legs.

Panic surged through her as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. The walls were bare, the room devoid of windows. It was some sort of abandoned building—run-down, isolated. She was utterly alone.

Except for him.

The stalker.

He stood a few feet away, watching her with an unsettling calmness, his face partially obscured by the shadow of his hood. Camille’s heart raced as the reality of her situation set in. She had been kidnapped.

“Waking up finally?” His voice was low, almost casual, like they were having a normal conversation. Camille's skin crawled at the sound of it.

“Wh-what do you want?” Camille’s voice trembled, but she forced herself to meet his gaze, refusing to let him see just how terrified she was.

The man tilted his head, almost as if he was amused by the question. “You’ve been avoiding me for too long, Camille. Ignoring my messages, hiding behind your security. But now, it’s just you and me. No one else to interfere.”

Her throat tightened as his words sank in. He had planned this for weeks, maybe months. He knew her schedule, knew her routines. She had been walking right into his trap.

Camille fought to keep her composure. “People are looking for me. They’ll find me. You can’t get away with this.”

The man’s smile twisted into something darker. “They’ll try. But we’ve got time. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”

---

Back at the photoshoot, chaos had erupted when Camille failed to return from the dressing room. The security team realized something was wrong when they found the room empty, and within minutes, Shawn and the police were alerted.

Josh was the first to arrive at the scene, his panic barely contained as he spoke with the authorities. “How could this happen? She was supposed to be protected!” His voice was strained, anger and fear boiling to the surface. Shawn was right there beside him, his face a mask of fury and desperation as he pushed the police for answers.

The entire city went on high alert. Amber alerts flashed across every screen. Detectives worked around the clock, piecing together the stalker’s movements, combing through surveillance footage from the studio and nearby streets. But so far, the trail was cold. Whoever had taken Camille knew exactly what they were doing.

---

Hours passed, and Camille’s hope began to fade. The man had barely spoken to her, his presence unnerving. He would pace the room, occasionally glancing her way as if deciding what to do next.

Camille’s wrists burned from trying to free herself from the ropes. She fought the urge to give in to her fear, trying to focus on one thing: Josh and her dad would find her. They *had* to.

Suddenly, the man’s phone rang. He stepped away to answer it, turning his back to her for the first time. Camille’s pulse quickened. She had to act now, or she might not get another chance.

With every ounce of strength she had, Camille worked at the ropes binding her wrists. Her hands were raw, the pain almost unbearable, but slowly, she felt the knot loosening. She kept her movements subtle, praying the man wouldn’t notice as he spoke in low tones on the phone.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her wrists came free. She stifled a gasp, her heart pounding in her ears. Now, she just needed to figure out how to get out of the room without alerting him.

But before she could move, the man turned around, his eyes narrowing. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Camille froze, her heart stopping.

Just then, the sound of distant sirens filled the air.

The stalker’s face twisted with rage as he realized what was happening. “They’re coming,” he muttered, his voice low and furious. “But it’s too late.”

With a sudden burst of adrenaline, Camille leaped from the chair, bolting toward the door. She didn’t care about the pain in her ankles or the fear gnawing at her heart—she just knew she had to get out.

---

Outside, Josh and the police were closing in on the location, Shawn right behind them. They had tracked the kidnapper’s phone signal to an old warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Every second felt like an eternity, but they were finally close.

“We’re going in!” Josh shouted, unable to hold back any longer.

As the police stormed the building, Josh and Shawn followed, their hearts in their throats. They raced through the corridors until finally, they heard her—Camille’s voice, calling out for help.

Bursting into the room, Josh’s eyes locked on her, and for a moment, nothing else mattered. Camille was there, alive, running toward him.

“Camille!” he yelled, his voice thick with emotion as he rushed forward, pulling her into his arms.

Shawn arrived moments later, wrapping his daughter in a protective hug. “You’re safe now,” he whispered, relief flooding his voice.

The stalker had been caught, subdued by the police before he could escape.

As they led her to safety, Camille clung to Josh, her body trembling with relief and exhaustion. The nightmare was over, but she knew the scars it left behind would take time to heal.

“I’ve got you,” Josh murmured, holding her tightly. “I’m not letting you go.”

And in that moment, Camille knew that no matter how dark things had gotten, she had her family, her friends—and most of all, Josh—who would always fight to protect her.