Morning light filtered softly through Aria's blinds. She sat on the edge of her bed, still carrying the scent of Dominic from the night before. Every nerve in her body buzzed, every memory of the evening — the Rolls-Royce, his hand at the small of her back, the slow, teasing touches at the restaurant — still alive and impossible to ignore.
Her phone buzzed. Nicole.
"You survived? Spill it! He behave?"
Aria smiled faintly, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed:
"He's… terrifying. In the best way. I can't stop thinking about him."
Nicole's reply came instantly:
"I warned you. That man is dangerous. Don't fall too fast."
Aria laughed softly, but the laugh was nervous. Dangerous? Yes. Complicated? Absolutely.
She stood and moved to the mirror. Red flashes from her dress still lingered in her mind — the way silk had clung to her curves, the subtle sway of the fabric, the way Dominic had looked at her as though she were the only woman in the room. She shivered. Powerful. Desired. Dangerous.
Across town, Dominic sat in his apartment, black coffee in hand, tracing the faint smudge of lipstick on his collar from dinner. He hadn't taken his eyes off her all night, hadn't let the faint possibility of being noticed ruin a single moment.
He brushed his jaw slowly, thinking. Something about her had settled under his skin — deeper than he expected. And for the first time in a long while, Dominic Vale considered consequences.
The next evening, a soft knock at Aria's door made her heart leap.
"Nicole!" she called, fumbling with her hair.
"Nope," Nicole said, smirking knowingly. "You've got company. And not the fun kind."
Aria froze.
Dominic.
He wasn't supposed to see her today.
"Aria," his voice was low, measured, commanding. "We need to talk."
She stepped back, unsure if she should let him in.
He entered anyway, confident, dangerous, leaving no room for argument.
"Dinner," he said, voice barely above a whisper, "was only the beginning."
Aria's pulse jumped. "And the rest?"
He leaned closer, brushing his fingers lightly against hers — possessive, teasing, claiming. "We'll see," he murmured. "But there's no pretending anymore."
She tried to speak, but words caught in her throat. Every touch, every glance, every whispered promise from the night before coursed through her again, leaving her dizzy.
And then… she felt it.
A flutter, a shift inside her she couldn't explain.
Her breath hitched.
Dominic noticed, his brow furrowing just slightly, sharp gray-blue eyes locking onto hers.
"Something's different," he murmured, almost to himself.
Aria's lips parted, but no words came.
Because she didn't know either.
And somewhere, far beyond the glow of her room, the night waited — silent, dangerous, and ready to change everything. ...