The city never slept, and neither could Mia Roselyn Hart.
Bills lay scattered across the kitchen counter like unspoken threats. Unpaid, overdue, impossible to ignore. Her brother's absence weighed heavier than the stack of notices—he was gone, vanished, leaving her alone to face the mounting debts and creditors. Three days. Three days of sleepless nights and frantic calculations. And yet, somehow, she survived. Barely.
She hadn't eaten properly in two days. Her shift at Eclipse had left bruises on her feet from the cheap heels, and her arms ached from balancing trays heavier than she thought possible. Every muscle in her body screamed for rest, but the world did not pause for her fatigue. It would not forgive weakness.
And in the back of her mind, a shadow lingered. A memory that refused to fade.
Asher Lucien Valerius.
She didn't know why he haunted her thoughts so vividly. He had smiled once—a subtle, knowing curve of his lips—and yet that single expression had left her trembling. She couldn't even describe why. It wasn't just fear. It was a pull, a magnetic force that drew her attention to him, no matter how hard she tried to resist. She shook her head, scolding herself. He was a rich, arrogant, untouchable man. Dangerous. She should forget him.
But she couldn't.
Somewhere far above the city, Asher stood in the private observation suite of Eclipse, reviewing the live feeds from the club below. Every camera, every corner of the VIP lounge, every movement of every guest was cataloged and analyzed. And there she was.
Mia Roselyn Hart.
The little human had no idea how carefully she was being studied. Her gait, her hands, the way she carried herself—trembling yet determined. The way her scent carried through the hallways, faint but intoxicating, tugging at something primal inside him. She did not know, could not possibly know, the effect she had on him. And that was exactly how he liked it.
Marriage.
The word tasted like ash on his tongue. A tradition, an obligation, a dull weight imposed by parents who still clung to outdated customs. He had endured it for centuries with disinterest. Countless women paraded before him, offering smiles, warmth, innocence, ambition—but none had stirred even a flicker of curiosity. None had drawn his attention.
Until her.
Her scent. Fragile, sweet, and yet sharp with a tension he could not ignore. She trembled under his invisible gaze, yet there was fire in her posture, a defiance buried under fear. She was a kitten before a predator—and he, Asher Lucien Valerius, was the devil in human form. She was perfect.
And the tradition would be observed. The marriage would happen.
But not yet. Not until he knew everything.
The next week was a careful, calculated observation.
Mia's life unfolded in fragments he studied relentlessly. The unpaid rent, the way she juggled shifts, the frantic searches for her brother, the late nights spent alone in a cramped apartment. Every detail was a thread he could pull when the time came.
He dispatched his aide with meticulous instructions: collect her full dossier—finances, personal history, habits, contacts. Every lie she told herself, every secret she hid, every vulnerability—cataloged and analyzed.
The humans around her were blind to him, but he watched, measured, recorded. Mia didn't know. She couldn't see him beyond fleeting shadows in the club, felt only the prickling of unease when his gaze lingered too long.
At Eclipse, she moved like a ghost, serving drinks, balancing trays, avoiding the VIP lounge whenever possible. But he was always there in some form—a shadow at the balcony, a whisper of attention, a flash of a dark suit in the crowd. Each encounter left her uneasy, her pulse spiking, though she tried desperately not to betray her fear.
It amused him.
Her terror, so carefully masked behind her trembling composure, was intoxicating. She had no idea he could smell it, read it like a map. And he could. He always could.
One evening, she slipped into the apartment after a twelve-hour shift, her body aching and her mind frayed. She sank onto the threadbare couch and let herself breathe, closing her eyes against the harsh neon glow outside. She had no parents, no one to care if she survived or not. Only her brother's recklessness and the weight of debt to remind her of her fragility.
And yet, in the darkness, she felt the lingering tension, the memory of him. The way he had studied her, smirked at her, and made her pulse hammer like a drum.
Across the city, Asher reviewed the dossier his aide had completed. Every transaction, every habit, every fear cataloged. He did not skim. He devoured the details with the precision of a predator mapping his prey. And when he finished, he leaned back in his chair, a predatory smile curling on his lips.
Perfect.
Perfect, fragile, unaware, irresistible.
He would marry because tradition demanded it. A bride was required, and she fulfilled every technical aspect of that obligation. But she—the girl who trembled yet refused to break entirely—was the only one who had drawn him in, the only one who could pierce the cold shield he carried like armor.
Nothing else ever moved him. Threats, rivals, even his parents' commands—they all bent before him. But her scent, her vulnerability, her presence… it called to him. Pulled him like no one else could.
And the thought made him smile.
She did not know it yet. But when the time came, she would have no choice.
The week passed, a slow, tense blur. Mia continued her life, surviving, working, worrying. She felt glimpses of him here and there—watching, present—but could never be certain. Each moment left her on edge, unsure, aware that something dangerous and irresistible was circling her world.
And Asher Lucien Valerius waited. Patient. Cold. Calculating.
Until the moment arrived when he would step forward, confident that he knew her entirely, and that she would have no escape from the storm he intended to unleash.