I run my hands over my face, trying to push the frustration and confusion away. It’s stupid. He’s a stranger. I don’t even know him. But there’s something about the way he makes me feel—something that both terrifies and excites me all at once.
I don’t even know his name!
In the next second, the atmosphere in the alley changes again. It happens so quickly, so silently, that I almost don’t realize it until it’s late. One moment, I’m alone, my back pressed against the brick wall, trying to catch my breath. The next, his presence is there, heavy and consuming, filling up the space between us with a force that makes my chest tighten. He hasn’t said a word, but I feel his eyes on me, and I feel it all—the intensity, the silence, the electricity that crackles between us.
I can’t breathe.
My body reacts before my mind can catch up, and before I know it, I’m standing frozen, my gaze locked on him. His eyes—dark, cold, unfeeling—hold me in place, and I can’t move, not even when my instincts scream at me to run.
He doesn’t ask for my name. Doesn’t need to. The way he looks at me is enough, as if everything he needs to knowis written in the way I stand, the way I breathe, the way I’m reacting to him. It’s not a question—it’s a command.
Up close, he’s handsome—not in the way of a gentleman, but in an icy way that has me trembling down to my feet. He’s tall, as I already figured from the last time. So tall, I have to tilt my neck back to look at him.
His gaze is a steely blue, and as it locks on to mine, I hold my breath.
And then, without another word, his lips barely move when he says, “Follow me.”
I don’t even think. I don’t even hesitate. I’m already moving before the words have fully sunk in, my feet carrying me forward, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. I don’t know what’s happening, why I’m doing this, but all I can think about is the heat that pulses between us, the tension in the air, the way I’m pulled toward him as if there’s no other choice.
He turns, his broad shoulders cutting through the darkness, and without looking back, he starts walking. I follow. It’s automatic. The desire to obey, to get closer to him, is stronger than anything I’ve felt in a long time.
Whatever happens tonight, I may regret it in the morning, but for now, I will bask in the pleasure.
Chapter Four - Lukin
I never should’ve gone near her.
It’s a simple truth, one I tell myself a hundred times as I followed her into the alley, but when I saw her—when she looked at me with those wide, hazel eyes—it shattered every bit of control I’ve spent years building.
The moment she met my gaze, I saw it—the subtle shift in her expression, the way her breath caught, the way her body tensed. It’s like she wanted to be wanted. I don’t know why it affected me the way it did. In that split second, I knew that she had been thinking about me the way I’ve been thinking about her.
Most women like to play the coquette. They like to act like they’re not interested, or make outrageous requests before they finally give in. But this beautiful woman wears her wants and needs on her face. That second, she didn’t look away, didn’t try to hide. Instead, she held my gaze, and there was a spark between us—something raw, something dangerous.
When she followed me—without hesitation, without even knowing my name—I felt something stir inside me. It was dark, unsettling, but I couldn’t stop it. Trust or foolishness? I don’t care. I know what I want. And right now, I want her. She’s like glass and I won’t hesitate to shatter her.
I lead her through the back door, not saying a word. She’s quiet behind me, her footsteps following me like she’s tethered to me by some invisible force. I don’t glance back, don’t need to. I can feel her presence, feel the weight of her curiosity pressing against me, pulling me in deeper.
When we reach the elevator, I swipe the keycard, the doors sliding open with a soft chime. She steps in behind me,her eyes still uncertain but not backing away. That’s the thing about her—I can see the fear in her eyes, but she doesn’t run. She doesn’t retreat. I don’t know if it’s because she’s intrigued or because something inside her is drawn to me, but she’s still here.
I press the button for the top floor, the elevator ascending slowly, the silence between us thick with tension. I don’t break it. She won’t either. The air feels charged, electric, and I’m beginning to wonder if this is a mistake. But I’ve never been one to back down from something I want, and right now, I want her more than anything.
The elevator stops, and I lead her down the long hallway to my suite. We reach the suite, and I unlock the door with a smooth motion, pushing it open. The moment she steps inside, she hesitates in the doorway, her hand resting lightly on the frame as if finally realizing that this is a mistake.
I don’t rush her. I don’t have to. I stand there, leaning against the doorframe, watching her. She’s nervous, I can see it in the way her shoulders are slightly hunched, the way she fidgets with her hands, but she doesn’t turn back. She doesn’t run.
That’s what pulls me in deeper. There’s fear in her eyes, but it’s not enough to make her step away. She’s standing on the edge of something unknown, and yet, she’s still here. She’s still with me.
Her breath is unsteady, like she’s unsure of what comes next, but I can see it in the way she holds herself—her body is tense, yes, but there’s something else, something that draws me to her. It’s the quiet way she waits, the vulnerability in her eyes, but more than that—it’s the fact that she wants to be here. She’s afraid, but she’s not leaving.
I take a step closer, and she doesn’t pull away. That small moment of hesitation tells me everything I need to know.
She doesn’t know what this means, but she’s here. And that’s enough for now.
I’m not sure what to do with the feeling building inside me. It’s something darker than I care to admit, something possessive that makes my chest tighten. I’m used to control, used to being the one who decides when, where, and how. But with her? It’s different. I want to take my time with her, watch her, let the tension grow until it’s unbearable.
But I don’t make a move. Not yet. I let her breathe, let her decide what comes next, even if it’s just a few seconds longer.
Her eyes flicker to me and finally, she steps in.
