Elle
Rain always made the city smell like gasoline and secrets. The sidewalks glistened under flickering streetlights, slick with oil and shadow. I pulled my coat tighter and kept moving, head down, steps quick. Nights like this weren't made for good girls.
They belonged to men who ruled the streets. Men like Daniel Romano.
Not that I expected to actually run into him.
The first sign of trouble was the voice.
"Watch where you're going."
It wasn't loud, but it cut through the city noise like a blade. Deep. Controlled. The kind of voice that made you freeze before your brain caught up.
I looked up—and instantly wished I hadn't.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a black tailored suit that clung to him like it had been stitched directly onto his frame. Dark hair slicked back, cheekbones sharp enough to wound, and those eyes… cold, steel gray, assessing me as though I were something he might buy—or break.
My stomach dropped. Daniel Romano.
I didn't need an introduction. Everyone knew his name. Heir to the Romano family. A man whispered about in bars and boardrooms alike. A man mothers warned their daughters about.
And now, a man standing directly in front of me.
"I—I'm sorry," I stammered, stepping back. My heel caught on a crack in the pavement and I stumbled.
Before I could fall, a strong hand caught my waist.
The heat of his grip seared through my coat, pinning me upright. My breath faltered. His touch wasn't gentle—it was steady, commanding, as though he wasn't just holding me up but holding me in place.
"Careful, bella." His mouth curved into a smirk, slow and deliberate. His voice was smooth smoke, curling around me, inescapable. "The city will eat you alive if you're not paying attention."
My pulse thundered in my ears. I should've pulled away immediately, should've mumbled a thank you and fled. But his gaze locked onto mine, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the street disappeared.
Daniel Romano wasn't supposed to look at me this way—like I was something delicate, something he'd already claimed without asking.
"Thank you," I whispered, finally stepping back. My skin tingled where his hand had been, as if his touch branded me.
But he didn't move. He stayed exactly where he was, head tilted, eyes narrowed in quiet study. The rain slicked against his suit, droplets clinging to his jaw, but he stood as though the weather bowed to him. Untouched. Unshaken.
"What's your name?"
The question rattled me. He wasn't supposed to care. A man like him didn't waste words on strangers, especially not nobodies like me. My instincts screamed to lie, to disappear, but my lips betrayed me.
"Elle."
His smirk deepened. "Elle," he repeated, savoring it. The way he said it wasn't a compliment—it was a claim.
My throat tightened. I forced a nod, turned on my heel, and kept walking. Fast. My legs carried me down the block, but my chest still ached with the weight of his stare.
Don't look back, I told myself. Don't give him another reason to notice you.
But even as the distance grew, I knew.
That wasn't the end.
Daniel Romano had seen me, touched me, spoken my name like it belonged to him.
And something in my bones whispered that he wasn't the kind of man to let go once he decided to hold on.
This wasn't over.
This was only the beginning.