Nina sat on the edge of her narrow hostel bed, staring at the crumpled sheet of paper in her hands. The numbers written across it felt like a cruel joke her tuition balance, due in less than a week. She had read it a hundred times already, but somehow the figure refused to shrink. Her savings, her odd jobs, her sleepless nights serving tables and tutoring high school kids it all barely scratched the surface.
Her chest tightened. She could already imagine the shame of being locked out of classes, the whispers of classmates, the sinking reality of her dreams slipping through her fingers. She wanted more from life more than poverty, more than constant struggle but dreams cost money, and money was the one thing she didn't have.
Her phone buzzed, lighting up with a message from her mother. She didn't even need to open it to know what it would say: "I'm sorry, my dear. Things are hard at home too. Please stay strong." Nina's throat ached as she dropped the phone facedown on the bed. She couldn't blame her family; they had nothing left to give.
With a sigh, she pulled her sweater tighter and slipped outside. The night air was cool, brushing against her skin as she walked across campus. Students laughed in groups, couples held hands, the smell of cheap street food drifting in the breeze. It all felt so distant, like she was watching a world she couldn't quite belong to.
Her feet carried her to Café Luna, the only place that felt like a slice of calm amidst her chaos. She ordered a black coffee no sugar, no milk and sat at a corner table. From here, she could see everything: the flashing neon sign outside, the waiters weaving between tables, and the group of loud boys across the room.
They weren't ordinary students. Their suits were too sharp, their watches too heavy, their laughter too measured. Everyone whispered about them the Moretti boys. Rumors tied them to the Mafia, their wealth dripping from dangerous deals no one dared to mention out loud. And sitting among them, silent, commanding without speaking, was Adrian Moretti.
Nina had seen him before, always from a distance. He was impossible to miss tall, broad-shouldered, with dark eyes that held a kind of arrogance that came from knowing he owned the world. His jawline looked carved from stone, his movements slow, deliberate, like a predator who never needed to rush. Girls whispered about him constantly, some with fear, others with fascination.
Tonight, for reasons she couldn't understand, his gaze lifted and landed on her.
Her breath caught. For a second, she thought she had imagined it. But no his eyes stayed on her, dark and unreadable. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned back in his chair, swirling the glass of whiskey in his hand.
Nina quickly looked away, staring hard into her coffee. Heat rose to her cheeks. She hated herself for reacting for letting her heart race over a man who was the definition of danger. She should stand up, leave, disappear before…
"Sit still."
The voice was low, smooth, but it wasn't in her head. She blinked and looked up. Adrian was no longer across the room. He was standing at her table, his presence consuming the space, shadows bending around him.
"I… sorry?" Her voice cracked, the word barely audible.
His smirk deepened. "I said sit still. You were about to run, weren't you?"
Nina's fingers tightened around her coffee cup. She forced herself to meet his eyes. They were even more intimidating up close, dark pools that seemed to see right through her.
"I wasn't," she whispered.
"Liar." The word slipped from his lips like silk, but the weight of it pressed into her chest. He pulled out the chair opposite her and sat, moving with the ease of someone who feared nothing. "What's your name?"
She hesitated. Every instinct screamed at her to walk away. But something in his gaze pinned her down, daring her to defy him. "…Nina."
"Nina." He tasted her name slowly, like it amused him. "Pretty. It suits you."
She swallowed hard. "Why are you why are you here?"
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. His cologne drifted toward her spice, smoke, something expensive. "Because I saw you sitting here like the world was crushing you. And I'm curious."
Her heart stuttered. She tried to laugh it off. "You must be mistaken."
His eyes narrowed slightly, the smirk fading into something sharper. "Don't play games. You look like someone carrying a weight she can't afford. Am I wrong?"
Nina's throat closed. She hated that he was right. She hated that his words cut so close to the truth she worked so hard to hide.
"You don't know me," she managed.
"Not yet," he said smoothly. "But I will."
She froze, unsure if it was a promise or a threat. Maybe both.
He sat back again, studying her like she was a puzzle he intended to solve. "Tell me, Nina… how much do you need?"
Her blood ran cold. "Excuse me?"
"Money." His tone was casual, but his eyes never left hers. "I've seen enough to know you're desperate. Tuition, maybe? Rent? Whatever it is, I can fix it."
Nina's pulse raced. Every word was both salvation and danger. "Why would you… why would you help me?"
His lips curved into a smile that wasn't kind. "Because I don't do anything for free. And I like you."
Her breath caught again. She understood now. This wasn't kindness. This was a deal. A cage disguised as a gift.
"What would you want in return?" she whispered, though part of her didn't want to know.
Adrian's gaze burned into hers, slow and deliberate, as if he wanted her to feel every unspoken word. "Your time. Your presence. Maybe more, if I decide you're worth it." His fingers tapped once against the table, a rhythm that echoed in her chest. "Don't look so afraid, Nina. You might even enjoy it."
The air between them thickened, heavy with a tension that made her skin prickle. She should say no. She should stand up and walk away. But instead, she sat frozen, caught in the pull of a man who radiated power, danger, and something her body betrayed her by craving.
Adrian leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I'll see you again soon. Don't make me come looking."
And just like that, he stood, adjusted his suit jacket, and walked back to his table. His men glanced at her, some with curiosity, others with warning, before resuming their laughter.
Nina sat motionless, her coffee cold in her hands, her heart pounding against her ribs. She had just stepped into something she didn't understand, something that could save her or ruin her completely.
And deep down, a part of her already knew: there was no turning back.
Nina's pulse hadn't slowed by the time Adrian walked back to his table. Her body felt taut, every nerve on edge, as though she'd just survived standing too close to a fire.
Why had she stayed silent? Why hadn't she told him to leave her alone?
Because you wanted him to stay, a traitorous voice in her head whispered.
Her cheeks burned. She shoved the thought away and focused on her coffee, though her hands trembled so badly she nearly spilled it. Her body's reaction scared her more than his words. Because it wasn't just fear coursing through her it was something else. Something hotter.
She had never felt it so strongly before.
From across the café, she sensed his eyes on her again. She didn't dare look, but her body knew every inch of her skin prickled under his gaze. She hated the way her breath quickened, the way her thighs pressed together beneath the table.
Nina pushed back her chair. She needed to leave before this madness swallowed her. But as soon as she rose, a shadow fell across her table.
One of Adrian's men blocked her path a tall, broad man with sharp eyes and a scar running down his cheek. His voice was polite but firm. "Mr. Moretti would like to see you outside."
Her stomach flipped. She shook her head quickly. "No, I"
The man's gaze hardened. "It wasn't a request."
Nina's throat tightened, but she forced herself to breathe. She glanced toward Adrian. He was still seated, one arm draped casually across his chair, watching her. His smirk returned when their eyes met, slow and deliberate.
Her legs felt like lead as she followed the man out into the night.
The café door shut behind them, muting the laughter and clinking glasses. The air was colder out here, the street quieter. Adrian stood a few steps away, hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed yet commanding.
"Good girl," he said softly, as if praising her for obeying.
Nina stopped a safe distance from him, arms wrapped tight around her chest. "What do you want from me?" Her voice trembled despite her effort to steady it.
He stepped closer. One… two… until he stood just in front of her, his scent enveloping her again. Smoke and spice. His height forced her to tilt her chin upward to meet his gaze.
"What I want," he murmured, "is for you to stop pretending you're not curious."
Her lips parted, words tangled in her throat.
Adrian's hand lifted, slow, deliberate. For a terrifying moment she thought he would touch her face. Instead, his fingers brushed a strand of hair from her shoulder, lingering just enough to make her shiver.
"You're desperate," he said, his voice low, intimate. "I can see it in your eyes. And I enjoy desperate girls."
Her pulse thundered. "I'm not"
"Yes, you are," he interrupted smoothly, his thumb grazing the curve of her jaw. "But desperation can be… beautiful, Nina. It makes you pliable. Teachable. Hungry."
She bit her lip, unable to breathe. Her body betrayed her again, a flood of heat pooling low in her belly.
Adrian leaned closer, his lips near her ear. "I can give you what you need. Money. Protection. A taste of something no one else will ever give you. All I ask…" His breath was warm against her skin. "…is that you belong to me when I call for you."
Her knees nearly buckled. The world tilted. His words were both terrifying and intoxicating, a poison she wasn't sure she wanted to resist.
"You don't even know me," she whispered, though the protest sounded weak even to her own ears.
"I know enough," he said. His hand slid down her arm, stopping just above her wrist, his touch firm but not cruel. "And I'll know the rest. You'll let me."
The night pressed close around them. Nina's chest rose and fell quickly, caught in the trap of his presence. She wanted to run. She wanted to stay. She wanted God help her she wanted to see what it would feel like if he touched her more.
Adrian's smile was wicked as if he sensed every thought racing through her. "Go home, Nina. I'll find you soon."
And then he released her. Just like that.
The sudden absence of his touch left her trembling. She stumbled back a step, breath uneven. He watched her with lazy confidence, as though he already owned her.
Her legs finally obeyed her, carrying her down the street, away from the café. She didn't dare look back.
But long after she reached her hostel, long after she lay curled beneath her thin blanket, Adrian's voice lingered in her head.
You'll belong to me when I call for you.
Her body refused to calm, shivering not from fear but from something far more dangerous.
And deep down, though she hated herself for it, she knew she would answer when he called.