Chapter 183 – Marcus POV
The sound of silence was what woke him.
It was too quiet.
Marcus slowly sat up in bed, dragging a hand through his tousled dark hair, the faint morning light slipping in through the curtains. For a moment, he thought she might still be here — curled up on the couch, where she'd fallen asleep in his oversized shirt.
But the silence told him otherwise.
He rose, bare feet padding across the marble floor. His eyes landed on the couch. Empty.
She was gone.
A small, mocking chuckle left his throat as he leaned against the frame of the open balcony door. Of course she'd left. Smart girl. He wasn't exactly the safest man to fall asleep around — not with the kind of secrets he carried, or the reputation that trailed him like smoke.
But last night… something had shifted.
He didn't like it.
Marcus had been with women — all kinds. Some shallow, some clever, some twisted enough to play games even he found amusing. But none of them had ever made him pause. None of them had that damn look in their eyes — like they could read past the charm and the sharp edges.
Alina had green eyes.
Striking. Not the kind of soft green you forgot easily. No, hers were vivid, alert — like they were cataloging everything. Reading him. Challenging him.
And he didn't like that.
She was supposed to be another distraction. Another night. Another conquest.
Instead, he'd given her his pajamas. He'd turned off the lights and let her fall asleep on his couch like some sort of... gentleman.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Marcus clenched his jaw and turned from the view. She had pulled something — intentional or not — and it worked. Her walk, the dress, that bold little smile like she knew exactly what effect she had.
And still... she left before he could make his move.
"Clever girl," he muttered, though the compliment tasted like a bruise on his tongue.
She was playing him. He knew it. Felt it.
Maybe she worked for someone — one of his rivals, or worse, someone who wanted to get close enough to slit his throat while he was vulnerable.
The thought should have made him angry. Should've made him order his men to track her down and find out exactly who she was and why she came.
But instead, it intrigued him.
Marcus wasn't the kind of man to let a game go unfinished.
He strode toward his desk, flipping open the small drawer where he kept a hidden device — a discreet tracker, usually planted on unsuspecting visitors. But when he checked the app on his phone, the screen blinked back at him, empty.
She found it. And she removed it.
Marcus stared at the blank screen for a long second, then gave a low whistle, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Now that," he whispered, "is impressive."
Alina wasn't just a pretty face or a seductive body. She was sharp. Calculated.
And dangerous.
A dangerous woman playing a dangerous game.
He leaned back in the leather chair, tapping his fingers against the armrest as he stared at the ceiling, the green of her eyes flashing in his memory. She'd made a choice last night — not just to leave, but to not sleep with him. And that meant something. She was either holding onto control… or saving herself for another play.
Marcus hated being played.
But even more than that… he hated being intrigued.
And Alina? She had just become the most interesting part of his week.
He stood again, grabbing his shirt off the back of the chair and shrugging it on with practiced ease. His silver eyes narrowed as he walked back to the couch and looked down at the spot where she'd been curled just hours ago.
She hadn't even left a scent behind. No perfume. No strand of hair.
Only the echo of something that shouldn't have mattered — but did.
"I'll find you again," he murmured, reaching down to fold the pajama shirt she left behind. "And this time, you won't be the one walking away."
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End of Chapter 183
(Marcus POV – 1000 words)