Chapter One
The night was supposed to be her fresh start. A new city, a new name, a new life where no one knew who she was or what she had run from. Yet, as Evangeline Rose Cross stood in the dimly lit bar, nursing a glass of whiskey she barely tasted, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.
The air hummed with low chatter, the clinking of glasses, and the deep bass of the music reverberating through the space. It was the kind of place where people lost themselves for a few hours, drowning in liquor and poor decisions. Evangeline had chosen it for that very reason—anonymity.
But that sense of security shattered the moment she felt it.
A presence.
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, her pulse quickening as a chill spread through her veins. She knew this feeling too well—being hunted.
Steeling herself, she reached for her glass, but before she could take another sip, a voice like liquid sin wrapped around her from behind.
"You’re a difficult woman to find, Evangeline."
Her fingers went numb, the glass slipping from her grasp and shattering against the floor. She inhaled sharply, her body rigid, as the crowd seemed to fade into nothing. Only one person existed in that moment.
Lucian Dante Moretti.
Slowly, she turned. And there he was.
Dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, he looked just as devastating as she remembered—tall, commanding, exuding an effortless dominance that made the air feel too thick to breathe. His dark hair was neatly styled, his sharp jawline more pronounced under the dim lighting, and those eyes—intense, unwavering, and filled with something dark and possessive.
He looked at her as if she were already his. As if she had never left.
Evangeline forced herself to stand her ground, to meet his gaze with defiance even as her knees threatened to buckle. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," she lied, her voice steadier than she felt.
Lucian’s lips curved slightly, but it wasn’t a smile. It was a warning. "Lying to me? That’s bold, angel."
That name. That damn name. The way it rolled off his tongue, dripping with dark promise, sent a shiver down her spine. He had called her that once, back when she thought he was just a man, not a force capable of swallowing her whole.
She took a small step back, but Lucian moved faster. One moment, there was space between them; the next, he had bridged the distance, his fingers curling around her wrist—not tight, but firm enough that she knew he wouldn’t let her slip away again.
"You ran from me," he murmured, tilting his head as if trying to figure her out all over again. "Did you really think I wouldn’t find you? That I would just let you go?"
Evangeline swallowed hard, her breath uneven. "Let me go, Lucian."
He chuckled, low and deep, the sound curling around her like smoke. "I think we both know that’s not going to happen."
Her heart pounded against her ribs. She had spent months evading him, burning every bridge, changing everything about herself to disappear. And still, he had found her.
Lucian lifted her hand, his thumb grazing her pulse point, feeling the erratic rhythm beneath his touch. "You’re trembling, angel." His voice softened, a cruel mockery of comfort. "Tell me… is it fear? Or something else?"
Evangeline ripped her hand away, taking a shaky breath as she gathered whatever scraps of strength she had left. "Stay away from me."
Lucian’s gaze darkened, his expression unreadable. "Not an option."
Before she could respond, he leaned in, his lips a breath away from her ear. "You’re mine, Evangeline. You always have been. And I always take what’s mine."
A slow, devastating realization settled in her chest. She had never truly escaped him.
And now, she never would.
