Elena woke up with the sharp taste of regret on her tongue.
Sunlight streamed through the thin curtains of her tiny apartment, casting golden streaks across the floor. She groaned, stretching out on her mattress, only to feel a sharp ache in her arms.
Right. She had dragged a half-dead man into her home last night.
Her eyes snapped open.
The couch.
It was empty.
The blanket she had thrown over him was neatly folded on the armrest. There was no sign of blood on the floor. No trace that a dangerous man had been bleeding out in her living room just hours ago.
Had she imagined it?
Elena sat up, rubbing her face. No—she remembered too much. The heat of his body against hers. The slow, dangerous smirk before he passed out. The way his steel-gray eyes had burned into her like he was memorizing her face.
A part of her had hoped he would be gone.
But another part of her… wasn't so sure.
A chill crept down her spine.
She felt she was being watched.
The feeling was instant. Prickling at her skin, setting every nerve on edge. She twisted toward the window, her heart pounding. The street below was quiet, but she could have sworn she saw a dark figure lingering by a black car before it pulled away. Sheremembered:
A warning.
A promise.
Her stomach twisted.
She had saved a man's life, and now she might be caught in his world.
That night, she found out just how deep she had fallen.
Elena had just locked up the café after another exhausting shift, the warm scent of coffee clinging to her clothes. The streets were quieter than usual. Too quiet.
She turned a corner and stopped dead.
A black Maserati was parked by the curb.
A man leaned against it, waiting.
Not just any man. Him.
The man she had saved. Adrian Moretti.
Fullyhealed. Dressedinacrisp black suit. The night's blood and weakness were gone, replaced by something colder, sharper.
His silver gaze met hers.
And he smirked.
"I told you, sweetheart. You owe me."
Elena's pulse pounded.
She should run. Should turn around and walk the other way.
But something about the way he was watching her, like a predator toying with his prey, held her in place.
Adrian pushed off the car, moving toward her with a lazy, confident stride. Like he already owned her.
"What do you want?" she demanded, her voice steadier than she felt.
He stopped just close enough that she could smell him, something dark and rich, a mix of expensive cologne and something like danger.
"A debt must be paid," he murmured.
Elena crossed her arms. "I don't owe you anything."
A low chuckle. "You saved my life." His fingers brushed her chin, tilting her face up until their eyes met. "That makes you mine now."
Her breath hitched. "Excuse me?"
"Mine, Elena." His voice was silk and steel, curling around her name like a claim. "And I always take what's mine."
Elena was surprised he knew her name, she didn't remember telling him. How do you-?
Shh! Adrian stopped her, smirked, and hisfingerscurledaroundherwrist.
"You don't understand, sweetheart," he murmured, his grip firm but almost… gentle. "This isn't a game. You saved my life, and in my world, that comes with a price."
Her pulse pounded. "And what exactly is that price?"
His lips curved into something dark. "Me."