The Captain I Married by Chance novel Chapter 287

My name is Aidan Nash.

I am an author by trade.

Every day, when I am not chained to my keyboard, my favorite pastime is sitting out on my balcony, admiring the flowers my next-door neighbor grows.

She is a stunningly beautiful single woman, though I have seen a revolving door of different men stopping by her apartment.

My neighbor eventually noticed me. Whenever I went out to look at her garden, she would cheerfully introduce me to the different varieties of blooms she was cultivating.

She was incredibly tender with those plants.

Over time, a quiet familiarity blossomed between us.

She gifted me a small potted plant, and in return, I bought her a vibrantly colored dress. She absolutely adored it.

That very evening, a strange man knocked on her door and didn't emerge until the sun came up.

Suddenly, I found that I completely lost my taste for looking at flowers.

I avoided my balcony for several days, and as a result, I didn't see her either.

Then, one afternoon, the police knocked on my door. They informed me that my neighbor had officially been reported missing.

I feigned absolute shock. The performance was flawless, largely because right as I had opened the front door to greet the officers, I could see her standing perfectly still in the shadows just down the hall. She raised a single pale finger to her lips, gently whispering a quiet, 'Hush.'

A jarring vibration violently shattered the silence of the bedroom.

Having just finished the final line of the chapter, Nora flinched so hard that the phone slipped from her trembling fingers and wedged itself between her pillows.

She dragged a hand through her hair, taking a deep breath to steady the sudden, erratic hammering in her chest. Once the lingering wave of creepiness finally washed over her, she fished the phone out of the sheets.

"Hello?"

As she waited for the person on the other end to speak, Nora's mind kept drifting back to the plot she had just read.

She wasn't exactly a connoisseur of webnovels, but even she could tell the opening was heavily relying on psychological misdirection to hook the audience.

Aside from the eerie final visual, the prose itself wasn't anything groundbreaking.

Was the viral fame really just the result of a clever marketing gimmick in the author's notes?

It made sense—with how fast wild theories spread on social media these days, a solid gimmick could easily manufacture hype.

She just hadn't expected the hype to be this massive.

"Nora, are you asleep?"

The detective's grim voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Nora instinctively glanced at the wall clock.

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