Chapter 1 ;
The city never truly slept. Even past midnight, the streets pulsed with life—music leaking from bars, cars hissing through puddles, neon signs breathing red and violet light across the wet pavement.
Aria Vale adjusted the strap of her camera bag and stepped out of the subway into the rain. She liked the city best like this—half-awake, half-dreaming. Nights were when stories happened, and she always wanted to catch them through her lens.
She hurried beneath an awning and lifted her camera. Through the drizzle, the glow of a streetlight framed a figure standing perfectly still in the middle of the crosswalk. A man in a dark coat. No umbrella. No motion.
Instinctively, she raised her camera. One shot—click.
The flash caught silver eyes staring straight back at her.
She froze.
Most people flinched when caught in a flash, but he didn't even blink. For one heartbeat, the noise of the city seemed to dim around them.
Then he smiled. Just a small curve of his mouth—but it was enough to make her breath catch.
He began walking toward her, slow, deliberate steps echoing against the wet asphalt.
"You shouldn't take pictures of strangers," he said when he reached the awning. His voice was low, smooth, the kind that made the air feel heavier.
Aria tried to sound casual. "You were standing like a painting. I couldn't help it."
"Paintings don't stare back," he murmured.
He was close now—too close. The streetlight behind him threw his face into half-shadow, and something about him felt wrong and perfect all at once. The faint chill that rolled off him wasn't from the rain.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Aria."
"Aria," he repeated, as though tasting the word. "Beautiful name."
The way he said it sent a shiver down her spine, though she couldn't tell if it was fear or fascination.
She tried to step back, but her heel met the wall. He didn't touch her, yet she felt surrounded by his presence.
Then, as quickly as he'd appeared, he turned away. "Go home," he said quietly. "It's late."
And before she could reply, he vanished into the rain. Not walked—vanished.
Her camera hung cold against her chest. She checked the photo she'd taken.
The crosswalk was empty.
No man. No shadow.
Only rain.