CHAPTER ONE :THE ENCOUNTER
460 Words
The night was too loud for Elena Carter.
La Notte wasn’t the kind of place she belonged in. Crystal chandeliers glittered above the dance floor, throwing sparks of light across leather booths and velvet curtains. The air was thick with perfume, alcohol, and something else—power. The kind that didn’t have to shout to be heard.
Her best friend, Mia, had sworn it would be fun. “One night out won’t kill you, Ellie. You’re too much of a saint. Live a little.”
But standing in that club, Elena felt like prey in the wrong forest. She smoothed down the hem of her simple dress—too plain compared to the glittering women around her—and kept her grip tight on her glass of water.
That was when she noticed him.
Adrian Moretti.
He wasn’t dancing, wasn’t laughing, wasn’t trying to blend in like everyone else. He was seated in the VIP lounge, a dark figure framed by the glow of expensive whiskey and sharper men at his side. Black suit, black shirt, black tie—as if he’d been carved straight from shadow.
And those eyes.
Even from across the room, Elena felt them. Cold, heavy, and merciless. They locked onto her like he’d been waiting for her to walk through the doors all along.
Her throat went dry. She looked away instantly, heart stuttering in her chest. He couldn’t possibly be staring at her. Why would a man like that—someone who looked like he owned the night itself—waste a glance on her?
But curiosity betrayed her. Her eyes flicked back.
This time, Adrian smirked. It was small, cruel in its confidence, as though he already knew she’d look again. He leaned close to the man beside him, said something Elena couldn’t hear. The man nodded once and rose from his seat.
Unease crawled through her.
“Mia, I think we should—” Elena began, turning to find her friend. But Mia had vanished into the crowd, leaving Elena alone at their corner table.
Panic sparked in her chest. She pushed to her feet, slipping through the throng toward the hallway marked Restrooms. The music throbbed behind her, but her pulse beat harder, faster.
Halfway down the hall, she realized she wasn’t alone.
Two men in dark suits trailed her steps. They weren’t dancing, they weren’t smiling—they were simply following, their eyes fixed on her with unnerving intent.
Elena’s breath hitched. She quickened her pace, ducking into the restroom. The door swung shut behind her, muffling the music, but it didn’t muffle the dread curling in her stomach.
Who was that man?
And why did it feel like she’d just walked into a game she didn’t even know existed?
- Writer
