The city didn't sleep. It pulsed with neon lights, blaring horns, and footsteps that never seemed to end. To Evelyn, it was both terrifying and intoxicating. She stood at the edge of the sidewalk with her suitcase in hand, watching the skyscrapers disappear into the night sky.
"This is it," she whispered to herself. "My new beginning."
Leaving her hometown wasn't easy, but she had made a promise to herself—she wouldn't waste another year hiding behind fear. The city promised opportunity, and she was determined to carve a life for herself, even if it meant starting from nothing.
But the city had its own plans.
As she dragged her suitcase into the crowded street, her phone buzzed with a message from her roommate-to-be: Sorry, plans changed. I can't share the apartment anymore. Good luck.
Evelyn stopped in her tracks. Her chest tightened as the words sank in. No place to stay. No family nearby. Only a city that could swallow her whole without even noticing.
"Great," she muttered, shoving the phone back into her pocket. "Just… perfect."
She decided to head toward a nearby diner. At least she could sit, think, and maybe find a temporary solution before midnight hit.
The bell above the diner door jingled as she stepped inside. The smell of coffee and fried food wrapped around her like a blanket, easing her nerves for a brief moment. She slid into a corner booth, ordering only a cup of coffee she could barely afford.
Outside the glass window, the streets buzzed with expensive cars and sharply dressed men. This side of the city reeked of wealth and power, a world Evelyn didn't belong to—but couldn't help but stare at.
That's when she saw him.
A sleek black car pulled up across the street. The kind of car that screamed untouchable. From the back seat stepped a man tall enough to command attention instantly. Broad shoulders, dark tailored suit, and a presence that made people part like waves before him. Even from this distance, his aura was sharp—danger wrapped in elegance.
Evelyn's eyes lingered longer than they should have. There was something magnetic about him, the way he moved with calm authority, the way his gaze swept the street as if he owned it. He didn't look like he belonged to the world. He looked like he ruled it.
The waitress dropped her coffee onto the table, jolting Evelyn back to reality. She shook her head, embarrassed for staring, and wrapped her hands around the warm mug.
But curiosity was a dangerous thing.
Her eyes drifted back to him, just as his did to her.
For a split second, their gazes locked through the glass. Her breath caught. His eyes were piercing—dark, unreadable, and yet sharp enough to make her pulse stumble. She quickly looked down, pretending to stir her coffee. When she glanced up again, he was still staring.
Then, almost as if deciding something, he began to cross the street.
Evelyn's heart skipped. No, he can't possibly…
The door to the diner swung open, the bell chiming again. Heavy footsteps echoed against the tiled floor until they stopped right in front of her booth. Slowly, she looked up.
Up close, he was even more striking—strong jawline, eyes that carried shadows, lips that curved in something between amusement and danger. He didn't ask permission before sliding into the seat across from her.
"You shouldn't be here alone," he said, voice low and commanding.
Evelyn blinked. "Excuse me?"
His gaze dropped to her worn-out suitcase beside the booth, then back to her. "The city eats people alive. Especially women like you."
Her spine stiffened. "And what kind of woman am I?"
The corner of his lips curved. "The kind men can't resist destroying."
Her throat went dry. Who was he? Why was he talking to her like he knew her soul, when they'd never met?
"I'm fine," she said quickly, clutching her coffee cup like a shield. "I don't need help."
He leaned forward, his eyes never leaving hers. "You may think that now. But you crossed paths with me tonight… and that changes everything."
A chill ran down her spine. The noise of the diner faded, the entire city outside seemed to blur. His words weren't a warning—they were a promise.
Before she could respond, he stood, adjusting his suit with a precise movement. He pulled a sleek black card from his pocket and placed it on the table.
"When you realize you're not fine," he said softly, "call me."
Then he turned and walked out, the bell above the door chiming one last time.
Evelyn stared at the card, her heartbeat racing. The name embossed on it sent a shiver down her spine:
Damian Blackwood.
She didn't know him. She shouldn't want to know him. But deep down, she already knew her life would never be the same again. No