Lila barely slept that night. Every time her eyes closed, she saw him: Adrian Blackthorne, dark and impossible, lurking in the corners of her mind. The memory of his gaze, the cold brush of his hands, and the subtle, inexplicable chill that had followed her from the café kept her tossing in her sheets.
By morning, a stubborn resolve had settled over her. Curiosity—dangerous, irresistible curiosity—pushed her out of bed. She needed to know who he was. Why he haunted her. And most importantly, what curse he carried.
Her first stop was her favorite online database—a combination of public records, social networks, and a few… unofficial sources she usually avoided. Lila's fingers trembled slightly as she typed his name: Adrian Blackthorne.
The results were minimal, but enough to raise her pulse. Wealthy family. Private estates. Discreet business ventures. Nothing scandalous. Nothing overtly supernatural. Yet the gaps were suspicious: missing records, unusually sealed documents, whispers in online forums about a "family curse" that had plagued the Blackthornes for generations.
Lila frowned. Curses aren't real. Not in the modern world. Right?
She shook her head, forcing herself to focus. But the more she read, the more she realized something insidious was at play. Stories of tragedy followed the Blackthornes like a shadow: sudden illnesses, mysterious accidents, relationships ending in unexplained misfortune. Patterns. Recurring patterns.
And then came the forum post that made her pause, her breath hitching:
"Be careful who you get close to. The Blackthorne curse is real. Some call it karma, some call it fate, but one thing is certain—those who touch Adrian suffer."
Her pulse quickened. She stared at the words as if the screen itself might answer the questions she dared not ask aloud. Touch him? Suffer?
A shiver ran through her. She glanced up, half-expecting to see him standing in her apartment, as if he had appeared wherever she went. But the room was empty. The apartment felt impossibly silent, as if the shadows themselves were holding their breath.
Shaking off the unease, she resolved to continue, determined to separate fact from fiction. She printed what she could and laid it across the small kitchen table. Each document, each forum post, each shadowy hint reinforced what she had begun to suspect: Adrian's world was not safe. And she had, by some dangerous twist of fate, stepped into it.
---
By evening, she found herself at the restaurant again. She didn't know why—some part of her wanted answers, another part wanted to test herself, and yet another, smaller part, wanted to see him. The waiter recognized her, offering a polite nod, and she slid into her usual seat, her eyes scanning the room with the cautious vigilance of someone waiting for a predator disguised as a gentleman.
It didn't take long.
Adrian appeared, leaning casually against the doorway, as if he had materialized from the shadows themselves. His dark eyes found hers instantly, and a faint, almost imperceptible smirk curved his lips.
"You're persistent," he observed, stepping into the light, every movement deliberate. "Or foolish."
"Curiosity has a way of being persistent," Lila replied evenly, though her pulse thumped like a drum in her chest. "I wanted to understand."
He studied her, and for a moment, she thought she saw something in his eyes—hesitation, maybe, or respect. "Understand what?" he asked finally, voice low.
"The danger," she said quietly, "the curse. Whatever it is you're hiding."
A shadow crossed his face. He leaned closer, so close that the faint scent of cologne and something darker—something almost electric—reached her. "Do you really want to know?"
"I do," she said, surprising herself with the steadiness of her voice. "I can handle it."
He tilted his head, studying her with an intensity that made her stomach twist. "Handling it is not the same as surviving it."
Lila blinked, unsure if she should challenge him or retreat. "I can survive," she whispered, though the words felt fragile.
For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, finally, he leaned back slightly, letting the distance between them remain just enough to tease, just enough to remind her of the tension that hummed like electricity between them. "Most cannot," he admitted. "But I sense… you are not most people."
The air between them was charged, almost vibrating. Lila realized that being near him felt like standing on the edge of a cliff—terrifying, yet intoxicating. Her curiosity fought with the instinct to flee, and for the first time, she wondered if the danger wasn't just about him… but about herself.
She pulled out the documents she had printed, sliding them toward him. His eyes flicked over the papers briefly, then returned to her face. "You've done your homework," he said, almost amused, almost impressed. "Bold. Dangerous."
"Isn't that what you are?" she asked, voice sharper than she intended.
He leaned closer, his voice dropping. "Perhaps. Or perhaps danger is just the truth dressed in shadow. And some truths… cannot be touched without consequence."
The candle between them flickered violently, casting moving shadows across his sharp features. Lila's breath caught. Another subtle reminder of the curse, she realized—small, almost imperceptible, yet unmistakable.
"You see," he said, voice calm but edged with warning, "this is why I cannot allow anyone close. Not without risk. Especially you."
"And yet," she whispered, almost involuntarily, "you let me sit here anyway."
His lips curved faintly, shadowed and enigmatic. "Because," he said softly, "some things are worth the risk."
Her chest tightened, a mix of fear, frustration, and… something else, something she didn't dare name. She wanted answers, but she also wanted to run. She wanted him gone, and yet the pull of his presence made her stomach twist in ways she couldn't ignore.
The dinner passed in a tense, electric silence, punctuated only by occasional words, each carefully measured, each revealing just enough to tease the boundaries of trust. Lila realized that she was being drawn in, step by step, into a world where danger, desire, and mystery intertwined.
As the evening ended, Adrian stood, brushing past her with a grace that seemed almost predatory. "Tomorrow," he said, voice low enough that only she could hear, "be careful where curiosity leads you. Some doors… once opened, cannot be closed."
And just like that, he was gone, leaving Lila with trembling hands, racing thoughts, and a pulse that refused to slow.
Tonight, she realized, the curse was no longer just a story. It had begun to touch her life—and she was already too entangled to escape.