Bella sat at her window, rain dripping onto the glass. Her phone vibrated again — a new message. There was no name, no explanation, only an address and a time: 9 p.m., Velvet Hut.
The night was heavier than air. Rain had washed the city earlier, and the streets glistened under neon light.
Her breathing slowed. Each breath was deliberate, almost worshipful, as her fingers traced her skin. She wasn't nervous. Not exactly. She was aching for clarity.
The silk of her blouse felt like a promise against her skin. It clung to her body like it knew the weight of what she was about to do.
The leather of her pants stretched against her thighs, taut and demanding. Her heels clicked against the floor as she stepped toward the door.
She wasn't sure if she was walking toward the truth… or toward her own ruin.
The address the unknown number had sent her wasn't far from home.
She tucked her phone deeper into her bag, fingers curling around the strap. Her heart thrummed harder than her footsteps. She told herself she wasn't afraid. But her gut told her otherwise.
She arrived at a small, dim street café tucked between two closed shops. The neon sign above the door flickered: The Velvet Hut.
A man was waiting. Leaning against the doorframe, shoulders relaxed, hands deep in pockets. His dark shirt clung to his broad chest. Sleeves rolled up, forearms carved like stone. His grin was slow, dangerous — the kind that promised trouble.
"Bella?" His voice was silk and smoke. Low, warm, like the promise of sin.
She hesitated. "Who are you?"
He stepped closer. Too close. The scent hit her first — expensive cologne, hinting at something musky and wild. Her breath hitched. "Depends," he said. "Who's asking?"
Bella swallowed. "I want the woman who sent me the message."
He laughed — low, amused, like her words were a game. "Not a woman tonight, darling." He tilted his head. "I'm the man who knows exactly what's been happening between you and Chris. And trust me… You don't want to keep pretending you don't see it."
"Relax," a deep voice said, warm and teasing. "I'm not here to hurt you."
She stared. "Who are you?"
He smiled. "Call me Adrian."
The name was like a soft caress. Dangerous, knowing. She hated the way her lips curved despite herself.
His eyes didn't look away. They studied her like a lover sizing her up before claiming her. She could feel his gaze crawling over her skin, lingering on her lips, collarbone, and neck curve. Her pulse quickened.
"You know him?" Her voice was softer than she wanted it to be.
He smiled wider. "Oh, more than you think. But tonight, that doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm here to save you before you lose yourself completely."
There was something dangerous in that line. But also something seductive. Her throat went dry.
He stepped closer, until his chest brushed hers. The scent of him wrapped around her like a drug. "I can feel it," he murmured. "The way he drains you, Bella. Every kiss… every touch… it leaves you hungrier. But it's never enough. And you deserve more."
Bella's breath hitched. His fingers reached out, tracing her jaw and neck. She didn't pull away. She shouldn't want him to touch her. But her body betrayed her.
"Why are you here?" she whispered.
"Because I promised someone I'd warn you." His lips brushed her ear. "And because…" he pulled back enough to grin, "…I like you. And I don't like seeing a woman destroyed by a man who doesn't deserve her."
He took her hand and led her toward a secluded booth inside the café. Their steps were slow, deliberate. Every move was a tease, a test. The air between them thickened.
"Sit," he said, voice low. His eyes lingered on her lips again. "I promise you, Bella… what I tell you will change everything."
She sat, heart pounding, aware of his presence leaning toward her like a predator and a lover all at once.
His hand found hers, fingers brushing against her skin with a deliberate gentleness. "Chris isn't what you think. And what he is… you'd wish you never found out. But you will."
She tried to pull her hand back. But he held it. "Bella," he said softly, "You're already too deep to turn back. But tonight… I'll give you a choice." His voice dropped, almost a whisper. "Meet me again. And I'll tell you what Chris is and why he can't be yours."
His eyes glinted with something she couldn't name: desire, danger, and truth.
She shivered. "Why me?"
"Because you're already mine," he said, leaning closer. His lips brushed the shell of her ear, warm and dangerous. "And I want to ensure you survive what he's about to do to you."
He pulled back with a slow smile equal to seduction and warning. "Midnight. Same place. Come alone."
Bella's lips parted, her heart pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it. Her phone buzzed. A message flashed:
"Don't say no."
She looked up at him. His smile widened. "That's the right answer."
He stepped into the shadows. She stood alone — with racing thoughts, burning skin, and the pull of something she could not name.
Somewhere in her chest, a spark ignited. Something dangerous. Something she couldn't — wouldn't — ignore.
Because deep down… she knew. She should have said no.
But she wouldn't.