A BEAUTIFUL KIND OF WRONG

CHAPTER 3 - Mr Unknown

Valeria

I froze.

The glass in my hand suddenly felt like it weighed a ton, the cool surface slick against my fingers. My pulse pounded in my ears, so loud I could almost hear it over the soft chatter around me. For a moment, the room,the laughter, the glasses clinking, the faint music faded into a blur, leaving only him.

He was tall. No, impossibly tall. Broad-shouldered in a way that made the fabric of his suit stretch slightly, as if every muscle had been sculpted into perfect form. And his face… his face wasn’t merely handsome. It was breathtaking, unnerving.

Beautiful

It was like some ancient statue brought to life. Sharp cheekbones, a jawline carved like marble, eyes black and deep enough to swallow you whole.

My gaze lifted, and I met his eyes. It was black, piercing.....unforgiving.

It was like he could see every secret I kept buried, every thought I hadn’t yet dared to speak. My breath hitched. My stomach twisted. My knees threatened to buckle.

Hold your stance, Valeria. Don’t look like a deer caught in headlights.

I straightened my shoulders, lifted my chin, trying to summon the composure I so desperately needed.

He didn’t blink. He didn’t smile. His gaze didn’t waver. It held questions. Silent ones. Dangerous ones.

Why are you staring like that? Who do you think you are?

“I… I’m sorry,” I whispered. My voice was barely audible, a fragile shield against the electric tension crackling in the air between us.

He didn’t respond. Not a word.

Just one last look. One look that burned straight through me then he turned and walked away.

The movement was smooth, effortless, precise. Like he owned not just the room, but the very air around him.

Shock rooted me to the spot.

Wait… what? He was leaving?

A twinge of irritation twisted inside me. He could have just said it was fine. Two simple words: IT'S FINE.

But no. That wasn’t enough for him.

Cheeks flushing, I grabbed my resolve and stalked after him, determination flaring like wildfire through my nerves.

“Excuse me!” I called out, my voice firmer than I expected.

“Why are you acting like that? You could have just said it’s fine!”

He stopped mid-step. Slowly. Gracefully. Like even stopping obeyed some invisible rhythm he controlled then he turned.

Just enough to bend his height toward mine. The sudden proximity made my breath catch. His presence pressed against me, magnetic and heavy.

“Its fine” he whispered, low, deliberate, like a secret meant only for me.

Two words, and yet they carried weight, power, authority.

My stomach flipped. My pulse threatened to escape my chest. Every fiber of me knew that standing here, mere inches from him, was reckless.

Still, I couldn’t look away.

His eyes flickered downward, catching the involuntary reaction of my body. If he’d been arrogant, he’d have smirked, teased me, taunted me. But he didn’t. He just watched. Observed and calculated.

I forced my mental composure back, straightening.

“Is this how you taunt women?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

He raised an eyebrow.

“With your… aura.”

The word seemed to spark something in him.

“Aura?” he repeated, calm, curious, precise.

Why was everything about him so aura-listic? His gaze, his motions, his god-damned sculpted body.

“Y-yeah. Aura,” I stammered. “Your whole demeanor… it’s giving… cold mafia boss energy.”

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

Then his gaze shifted to my purse, teetering dangerously at the edge of my shoulders.

“Oh!” My brain jolted. I reached for it, but the purse slipped from my grasp and hit the floor with a soft thud.

“You clumsy little girl,” he said lightly.

Girl?

My cheeks flamed red. I straightened, refusing to show embarrassment.

“Did you just call me girl? I am not a girl. I don’t like being called that.”

“But you are,” he replied effortlessly.

Aargh.

He was testing me. But I wasn’t about to back down.

Before I could stop myself, I stepped closer. Inches apart. The air between us thick and charged. His cologne assaulted my senses again, grounding and dizzying all at once. I could feel his steady breathing. I could hear it. I could feel his heartbeat through the air or maybe it was just my own?

I reached out, adjusting the perfectly straight knot of his tie. My hand grazed his chest, firm and unyielding. Solid. Impossibly solid.

“I’m not a girl, Mr. Unknown,” I said. My voice steadier than I felt. “I’m a woman, about to live her dreams and of course, have some fun.”

I patted his chest once. Hard. Confidently.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to enjoy my evening.”

And I walked away.

Confidence surged through me, wild and unexpected. I didn’t even notice if he was following my retreating figure. My heart raced, adrenaline buzzing.

That was… exhilarating.

Where did that energy come from and why did it feel like I had just won a battle I hadn’t even known I was fighting?

I straightened my shoulders and tried to shake off the strange heat crawling up my neck. My pulse was still doing acrobatics, and my hands tingled from touching his tie… his chest…

I glanced around the room. He was already gone. No trace. No black suit weaving through the crowd.

Just… nothing.

Shaking my head, I forced a laugh that sounded too loud in my own ears. Okay, Valeria. Focus. Enjoy yourself. You came here to unwind, not to swoon over some… Mr. Unknown.

I spotted Theresa laughing with a group near the bar, her bright energy filling the space like a spotlight. Shots. Glittering glasses. Music pulsing in time with the beat of my racing heart. I made my way over, smiling and raising my own glass.

“Theresa! Don’t tell me you’ve been keeping all the fun to yourself,” I called out, my voice light but shaky.

She grinned, nudging me with her elbow. “Relax, girl! You need it. One night off doesn’t hurt.”

I laughed, taking a shot and letting the alcohol burn down my throat. For a moment, I let myself float in the euphoria of the crowd, the music, the laughter. Maybe I deserve this, I thought. After all, I’ve worked my butt off all week. New clients, endless calls, meetings that ran overtime, proposals that kept me up at night…

My life in real estate was supposed to be exciting, glamorous even. But the truth? It was exhausting. Tireless. Competitive. Every day, I fought to prove I belonged, to this new world, to carve out a future that I can live, to start building the life I’d dreamed of. And yet, sitting here, a drink in hand, laughter spilling out of me like sunlight, it felt almost surreal.

Almost… unreal

Then my thoughts inevitably drifted back to him.

Who was he?

The man who had made my stomach twist and my pulse race.

I shook my head, trying to dismiss him as a figment of my imagination. Maybe I’d been too tired. Maybe the wine or maybe the sheer thrill of being in a room full of people made my mind play tricks on me.

But no… it wasn’t imagination. He was real. And the way he carried himself… it was impossible to ignore. Even now, I could feel his presence echoing through my senses, leaving me restless, curious, and a little… excited.

I laughed softly to myself, swirling my glass. Focus, Valeria. Enjoy the night. You can worry about mystery men later.

I let the music sweep me, letting my shoulders move with the rhythm, letting the warmth of the drink fill me with a fleeting sense of invincibility. I am here. I am living. I am doing this for me. Not for anyone else. Not for a guy with an impossible stare.

I stepped away from the crowd and made my way toward the garden. The cool night air hit me like a slap, sharp and refreshing against the flush of my cheeks. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of night-blooming flowers.

The unsettling quiet wrapped around me, a fragile calm after the chaos of the party. I drew in a deep breath, letting it fill my lungs, trying to steady my racing pulse.

The leaves rustled quietly as I stared out over the city lights, taking deep, steadying breaths.

For a moment, I let my thoughts wander again: clients, proposals, deadlines looming over me like heavy clouds.

I was still thinking about it again when I suddenly froze. There was a shadow and there was movement. Then I saw it

A gun.

Pointed at an old man, trembling, trying to retreat, eyes wide with fear.

Behind it… the impossible figure with the black suit and cold eyes.

Mr. Unknown.

The same man who had just walked away from me with effortless grace. His black suit blending into the night. His expression… unreadable, terrifying, and yet commanding all at once.

My heart seized.

No. This can’t be happening.

I heard his voice, cold and familiar.

“Time’s up, old man.”

My stomach dropped.

Instinctively, I froze among the roses and lantern-lit paths. The voice wasn’t loud, but it carried across the garden like steel cutting through air. It was him. The one I had been avoiding thinking about all night. Mr. Unknown.

I strained to see, my eyes scanning the darkness ahead.

The old man was hunched and frail. His hands raised in desperation, body shaking, eyes wide with fear.

The cold voice spoke again, precise, deliberate, cutting through the night.

“I warned you.”

“No… no, please,” the old man stammered, voice quivering.

“Everything I did… it was for your father! I swear please, you have to believe me!”

He raised his hands higher, shaking like a leaf in the wind, trying to defend himself.

He aimed the gun for the man's head now, aiming steady and unwavering. He was standing in the shadows, shoulders broad, expression unreadable, every ounce of power and control radiating from him in waves I could feel even from a distance.

The old man’s voice cracked in desperation.

“Roman… please, don’t…”

The words hit me like a punch. Roman?

My mind reeled. My pulse spiked, a mix of fear, confusion, and the undeniable magnetic pull of the man I had just met.

The old man’s body trembled as he stepped back, trying to find any escape. But the gun followed him, unrelenting.

I took a cautious step forward, my heels silent against the stone path. My breath hitched. Should I intervene? Should I run? Should I… do nothing and hope…

The wind rustled the leaves, carrying the faint, almost imperceptible click of the safety being released.

“Please…Roman…” the old man begged again, dropping to his knees, voice breaking. His eyes pleaded, glimmering with tears, his hands clasped as if in prayer.

My stomach twisted. My hand went to my mouth to stifle a gasp but it was too late.

A single, sharp sound split the night air.

The old man crumpled.

My eyes widened. I couldn’t breathe. The world seemed to tilt sideways as my brain tried and failed to process what I had just seen.

Then it hit me. I had gasped.

The sound had echoed faintly across the garden.

He turned.

Roman, Mr. Unknown. My pulse jumped to a frantic rhythm. My knees threatened to buckle. Every instinct screamed at me to run.

Run, hide but I was frozen.

His black eyes scanned the shadows, piercing, searching… and then they fixed directly on me.

My chest tightened. The cold, commanding aura I had felt at the party was magnified tenfold now, wrapping around me like chains. My breath caught.

Oh no.

The world narrowed to him the gun, the body of the old man, and me.

He stepped closer, each movement deliberate, controlled, like a predator closing in on prey. The faint rustle of leaves under his polished shoes sounded deafening.

I swallowed hard, mind racing. Why am I here? Why did I follow the garden path? Why is he looking at me like that?

His gaze held me in place. I felt exposed. Vulnerable. And yet, something in me stirred, a strange mixture of fear, adrenaline, and that inexplicable pull I had felt the first time we met.

“You…” His voice was low, deadly calm, and it cut through the night.

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. My heart hammering, my thoughts scrambled like scattered papers. Say something. Do something. Don’t make him notice… but he already has.

He took another step. The weight of him pressed closer, and I realized: this was no longer about curiosity or fascination. This was about survival.

And yet… why do I feel my pulse spike in a way that has nothing to do with fear?

The man who had seemed untouchable at the party, the one who had made me feel simultaneously small and alive was standing here, a gun in his hand, and a dead old man at his feet.

My mind screamed for one thing: Run.

Before I could even move, a massive arm wrapped around my waist. Another hand clamped over my mouth, cutting off my scream before it could escape.

I thrashed, kicking, wriggling, desperate but it was useless. His strength was terrifying, unyielding. My heart hammered, every instinct screaming that this was it, this was the end.

I couldn’t help the shiver that ran down my spine. The thought of what he might do to me, the fate I imagined for myself made my skin crawl. He’ll take me somewhere. Somewhere dark. Somewhere no one will find me.

I’ll end up like the old man… crumpled, lifeless, cold.

Goosebumps rose along my arms.

The world around me blurred as he moved. My heels clicked against the marble floor as he carried me across the venue, silent but impossible to outrun. We reached the far side of the party, a luxury car park. My eyes widened. Every car screamed wealth, power, prestige.

Lamborghinis, Porsches, sleek black sedans… all impossibly expensive.

A black sports car gleamed under the overhead lights. I couldn’t make out the logo, there was no time, no focus, my entire being was consumed with escape. He shoved me gently into the passenger seat, and for a brief second, I thought I might have a chance.

But instinct took over before reason. My leg shot up, connecting with the only vulnerable spot I could reach. His groan reverberated in the car, and for a moment I felt a pang of guilt. His body perfect, sculpted, godlike reacted like it should have been invincible.

I scrambled, yelling at the top of my lungs. “Help! Someone, please help me!”

Before I could even hope someone might hear, his arms wrapped around me again, crushing me with brutal force. He tossed me fully into the seat, shutting the door behind him with a metallic click. Then he slid into the driver’s seat, locking the doors.

Panic clawed at my chest. I pounded my fists against the window, tried to wrench the door open, screamed until my throat ached but it was useless.

The engine roared to life, vibration thrumming through the car like a predator’s heartbeat and then… his voice. It was calm and deliberate.

“It’s of no use, my love.”

Every word froze my blood. My pulse spiked. My stomach lurched. And then he pulled out a gun, pointing it at me with a casual precision that made my mind freeze in disbelief.

Oh no.

This was no longer a game, no longer a moment of adrenaline or thrill. This was real.

I was utterly, completely trapped.

Tears streamed down my face, hot and relentless, blurring my vision. I couldn’t stop them even if I tried. My chest ached with every breath, each inhale catching painfully in my throat.

This couldn’t be happening.

Not now. Not when my life was just beginning.

I had spent weeks planning my future, mapping out every little step that would finally make my life count. The late nights, the endless work, the dreams I had carefully nurtured, none of it could just end like this.

The thought of my parents finding out made my stomach twist violently.

I can’t imagine them seeing my body… cold and lifeless… somewhere abandoned in a random park.

No.

I just couldn’t.

Slowly, I lifted my head and looked at him. My vision was hazy through tears, but I could still see the shift in his expression.

“You know you weren’t supposed to be there, right?” he said.

His voice was low, firm demanding an answer even though I could barely think straight.

“Y-you… you killed him—m-me…” I stuttered, choking on my words as another sob tore through my chest.

Before I could pull away, his hand reached out. Cold fingers cupped my cheeks.

The sudden contact startled me. His skin was icy against my tear-streaked face as he gently brushed the tears away with his thumb.

I coughed weakly, choking on my breath as I struggled to calm down.

“He deserved it,” he said quietly.

His tone was calm. Too calm.

“He was a bad man. It’s better he rots in hell than stink up this world.”

The gun rested on his lap.

My gaze flickered to it instinctively, fear tightening my chest again.

When he noticed, he sighed softly and picked it up before tossing it carelessly onto the driver’s floorboard.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.

The promise came out smooth and deep, his baritone voice rich and controlled.

A murderer making promises.

The irony almost made me laugh if I wasn’t so terrified.

“But,” he continued, his voice turning colder, “if you tell anyone about what you saw tonight… I will find you.”

My breath hitched.

“And God knows what I’ll do to you.”

I swallowed hard.

My throat felt painfully dry.

The car rolled out of the underground garage and onto the open road. Streetlights flashed past the windows, streaks of yellow light cutting through the darkness.

My mind was chaos.

Thoughts crashed into each other, panic, confusion, fear.

Where is he taking me? What if he changes his mind? What if he decides I’m too much of a risk?

I turned toward him, my hands trembling in my lap.

“W-where are you taking me?” My voice shook helplessly. “Please… just stop the car.”

My breathing quickened again.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone. I swear it. I won’t say anything about what I saw.”

Desperation clawed its way into my voice.

“I just want to go back to the party… back to Theresa. Please.”

My eyes searched his face, hoping,praying for even a tiny bit of mercy.

“I promise you.”

He finally looked at me again.

We had driven far past the party by now. The glittering lights of the venue were long gone, replaced by the quiet stretch of dark roads and passing streetlights. The city blurred outside the window, but inside the car the air felt thick,heavy with unspoken tension.

For a few moments, neither of us spoke.

Then he broke the silence.

“What’s your name?”

His voice was calm, almost casual, though his eyes flickered toward me only briefly before returning to the road.

“Valeria,” I answered quickly, the word tumbling out before I could stop it.

My heart was still racing.

“See, I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut,” I rushed on, my voice trembling. “I swear. I won’t tell anyone about what I—”

“I know you won’t.”

The way he said it stopped me cold. It wasn’t a guess, it was not reassurance. It sounded like certainty. Like he already knew.

“Let me take you home.”

For a brief second, relief washed over me so strongly it almost made me dizzy.

Home. I was going home.

The relief lasted only a moment before another wave of panic crashed over me.

My home?

My stomach twisted.

If he knew where I lived… he could find me anytime he wanted.

The thought made my skin crawl.

Imagine a murderer knowing exactly where you sleep.

My fingers tightened nervously in my lap.

Should I lie?

Maybe I could give him a random address. Somewhere far away from my actual apartment.

What if he found out? What if that made things worse?

The last thing I wanted was to create more problems with a man who had just pulled a trigger without hesitation.

He glanced at me again, as if sensing the storm of thoughts running through my mind.

“It’s best you just tell me where you live,” he said evenly. “It’ll make things easier for both of us.”

I swallowed hard.

My throat felt dry again.

Oh Lord… why me?

I gave him the directions to my place, my voice barely steady as the words left my mouth. The entire time, my heart pounded violently against my ribs so loud, I was certain he could hear it echoing through the quiet car.

The engine hummed smoothly as he drove, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

A few minutes later, he pulled out his phone and made a call. His voice dropped lower, speaking in a language I couldn’t quite catch quick, controlled words that sounded

sharp and deliberate. I couldn’t understand a single thing he was saying.

Honestly… I wasn’t really listening. My mind was somewhere else entirely.

Tonight’s events kept replaying in my head like a broken film reel. The gun. The sound of the shot. The old man collapsing to the ground.

...and Roman.

My stomach twisted again.

Oh Theresa…

She must have been looking for me by now.

I pictured her scanning the crowded party floor, pushing through people, probably calling my phone again and again. Her brows would be furrowed in that worried way she had whenever something felt off.

She’d probably think I had gone outside to take a call… or maybe that I had met some guy and slipped away for a moment.

If only she knew...

If only she had seen what I saw tonight. A cold shiver ran down my spine.

No… it was better she didn’t know.

No one should have to witness something like that.

The car slowed, pulling into the familiar street where my apartment building stood. The sight of it brought an unexpected wave of relief rushing through me.

Home. It was safe

Or at least… safer than being trapped in a car with a man who had killed someone barely an hour ago.

The car came to a smooth stop in front of the building.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then I reached for the door handle, ready to escape the suffocating tension in the car.

Before I could step out, his hand shot out and gently grabbed my wrist.

I froze.

“Be good, Valeria.”

His voice was quiet.

Yet the words carried a weight that settled heavily in my chest.

I nodded once.

A single, silent nod.

He released me.

I stepped out of the car, my legs wobbling slightly the moment my heels touched the ground. My knees felt weak, like they could give out at any moment.

Without thinking twice, I slipped off my heels and held them in my hand, the cool pavement beneath my feet grounding me just enough to keep walking.

I didn’t look back at first.

I just kept moving toward the building entrance, eager to put distance between myself and everything that had happened tonight.

Something inside me made me stop. Slowly, I turned around.

He was still there.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, watching me.

His gaze was intense, dark and unwavering, like he was studying every movement I made.

A strange feeling twisted in my chest.

The fact that he had actually let me go felt almost… miraculous.

Tonight could have ended very differently.

I could have died, just like the old man but I didn't

The moment I stepped inside the building entrance, the car engine roared softly and he drove away without another word. Still, a quiet unease lingered inside me. Men like him… didn’t just walk away from things.

Deep down, I knew one thing with unsettling certainty.

He was coming back.