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Trapped By The Phantom: His Little Lamb Novel Cover

Trapped By The Phantom: His Little Lamb

I woke up to the screech of a megaphone and realized I had transmigrated into a YA novel called *Roses Under Thorns*. I wasn't the beloved heroine. I was Chloe Carrillo, a disposable scholarship student whose only purpose was to die in a tragic car crash to advance the plot. Desperate to survive, I tried to become invisible. But fate played a sick joke, making me the roommate of the female lead and drawing the suffocating, obsessive attention of her powerful brother, Dean Gibbs. While desperately avoiding Dean's controlling grasp, my nightmare worsened. An untraceable cyberstalker began hunting me. He called me "Little Lamb." He left a burner phone in my secret library hideout, sent photos of me taken from ceiling vents, and texted me the moment I stepped out of the dorm shower. "The water looks warm. Enjoy your shower." The police couldn't help, and asking Dean meant trading one terrifying cage for another. I didn't understand why this was happening. I was supposed to be a nobody, yet I was trapped in an invisible web, monitored every second of my life. Refusing to be a victim, I tracked down the university's legendary phantom hacker, Ashton Bridges. I handed him my devices, begging him to trace the stalker, thinking I had finally found a safe ally. I didn't know that as soon as the lab door closed behind me, he pulled up a live camera feed of my bedroom, his lips curving into a predatory smile. "Little Lamb, you walked right into my arms."
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Chapter 11

Back in the dorm room, the door clicked shut behind them, and the sound was like a starting pistol.

Chloe felt a surge of adrenaline, a feeling she hadn't recognized in days: hope. It was a fragile, unfamiliar thing, but it was there, warming the pit of her stomach. She held the small, black flash drive in her palm. It felt heavy, solid. A weapon.

"I feel like I can finally breathe," Chloe said, the words coming out on a shaky exhale. She walked over to her desk, her movements deliberate.

Hannah watched her, a genuine smile spreading across her face. "He seemed really smart. Like, scary smart."

"He is," Chloe agreed. She looked at the flash drive, then at Hannah. "This is going to work. I can feel it."

She sat down and opened her laptop. The screen flickered to life, and for the first time in a week, she didn't flinch at the sight of the small, dark circle of the webcam. It was just a piece of hardware. Soon, it would be a blind eye.

With a sense of ceremony, she slid the USB drive into the port. The click was satisfyingly firm.

A simple installation window popped up on the screen. The program was called "Aegis Protocol." A shield.

Chloe's finger hovered over the trackpad. This was it. This was the moment she took back control. She clicked "Install."

A blue progress bar appeared and began to crawl steadily across the screen. Chloe watched it, her breath held tight in her chest. It was more than just software; it was a digital wall being built around her, brick by invisible brick.

Hannah came and stood behind her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Is it working?"

"I think so," Chloe whispered.

The progress bar reached the end. A small, cheerful chime sounded from the laptop's speakers. Installation Complete.

The relief that washed over Chloe was so intense it made her dizzy. The tension in her shoulders, a constant companion for days, finally released. The air in the room felt lighter, cleaner. She had done it. She had found a way.

She was safe.

Just as a real, genuine smile touched her lips, her phone, lying face-up on the desk, lit up.

Ding.

The sound, so similar to the one from the laptop, made her heart stutter. She glanced at it, a flicker of the old fear returning, but she pushed it down. It was probably the Aegis program, blocking some spam message. It was a sign that it was working.

She reached for the phone, her movements confident again. She unlocked the screen.

The message was from an Unknown Number.

Her blood went cold.

"Cute little program. Did the Phantom tell you it would protect you?"

Chloe's breath hitched. The screen seemed to blur. He knew. He knew she had installed a program. And he knew Ashton's nickname. A name only a handful of people on campus even whispered.

Before she could process it, a second message buzzed through.

"You shouldn't have dragged your friend into this, Little Lamb."

A wave of nausea rolled through her. Her friend. He meant Hannah.

Then came the third message. It wasn't text. It was a picture.

Chloe's vision tunneled. The photo was of Hannah's profile. She was standing by the mini-fridge, a bottle of water in her hand, a look of concern on her face as she watched Chloe at the desk. It had been taken seconds ago.

The angle was unmistakable. It was from the laptop. From the webcam.

Chloe's head snapped up. She stared at the tiny black dot above her screen. It wasn't a blind eye. It was a gaping maw. A black hole that had just swallowed her last shred of hope.

He was watching them. Right now. Through her computer.

She hadn't installed a shield. She had opened the gates and welcomed in the Trojan horse.

Hannah was in danger. Because of her. The thought was a physical blow, knocking the air from her lungs more violently than any threat against herself.

"Chloe? What is it?" Hannah asked, her voice laced with worry. She had seen the color drain from Chloe's face. "You look like you're going to be sick."

Chloe couldn't speak. Her throat was closed tight with terror. She shakily turned the phone and held it out for Hannah to see.

Hannah's eyes scanned the messages, then landed on the photo of herself. A small gasp escaped her lips, and she slapped a hand over her mouth, her own face turning pale.

Something inside Chloe snapped. The fear, the helplessness, it all curdled into a hot, violent rage. She reached out and slammed the laptop shut with a loud crack. It wasn't enough. She wanted to smash it, to grind it into dust.

She snatched her phone, her fingers fumbling on the screen, slick with a cold sweat. She found Ashton's number in her recent calls. She didn't hesitate.

The phone on the other end rang once.

"I need a video call," she hissed into the phone, a raw, ragged thing torn from her throat. "Now!"

There was a beat of silence from the other end. Then, his voice, as calm and steady as ever, replied.

"Okay. I'm connecting."

The calm in his voice was the most terrifying thing she had ever heard. Her only hope was now the source of her deepest fear.

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