CHAPTER TWO: SHADOWS THAT FOLLOW
1097 Words
The dressing room smelled faintly of perfume, cheap hairspray, and the metallic tang of stage lights cooling down.
Luna Rae kept her head low, her pulse still pounding from the music. She didn’t stop to talk to anyone, didn’t linger at the mirror like the other girls. She had one rule—leave as quickly as possible.
Her heels clicked along the narrow hallway toward the back exit. Almost there.
“Velvet.”
The voice wasn’t loud, but it carried. Low. Commanding. A sound that seemed to sink into the skin instead of bounce off it.
She froze.
Slowly, she turned her head.
He was leaning against the wall near the door—tall, broad, dressed in a black suit that fit him like it had been made to intimidate. Under the dim backstage lights, his eyes looked darker than they had upstairs, colder too.
Up close, Dante Cross wasn’t just dangerous. He was lethal.
“You don’t belong here.” His gaze swept over her slowly, not like a man undressing her with his eyes, but like a predator assessing territory.
Luna straightened her shoulders. “You don’t get to decide that.”
One corner of his mouth twitched—almost a smile, but not quite. “I don’t make decisions, sweetheart. I make realities.”
She turned to leave. “Then make your reality somewhere else.”
He stepped into her path, not touching her, but close enough that she caught the faint scent of expensive cologne and something sharper underneath—gun oil, maybe.
“You danced like you were somewhere else,” he said, voice calm but edged. “Like you didn’t see anyone in the room.”
“That’s the point,” she replied. “It’s a performance. You’re not supposed to take it personally.”
“I don’t take anything personally,” he said softly. “But I notice things. And I notice you’re not here for the same reason the others are.”
Her stomach tightened. “You’re observant. Congratulations.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, as if testing how far he could push before she broke. “What’s your real name?”
She smirked without humor. “Velvet works fine for you.”
“I prefer knowing what to call the women I’m interested in.”
Her chest constricted. Men had said things like that before—always as if interest was a compliment she was obligated to return. But his voice wasn’t sleazy, it was steady. Too steady.
“And I prefer leaving without an interrogation.” She sidestepped him and kept walking.
He didn’t stop her this time.
But his voice followed her. “Luna Rae.”
She froze again.
“I don’t forget a face,” he continued, his tone like steel wrapped in silk. “Especially not one that looks like it’s hiding something.”
Her heart kicked hard against her ribs. She didn’t turn around.
She pushed the back door open, the cool night air hitting her like a slap.
From behind her, his final words slid out like a promise—or a threat.
“I’ll see you again.”
Outside, she exhaled shakily, her pulse still hammering.
She didn’t know how he’d gotten her name.
But she knew one thing: men like Dante Cross didn’t just see you. They hunted you.
And if she wasn’t careful…
she’d end up caught.
The night air felt heavier than usual. Luna pulled her coat tighter around herself, her heels clicking quickly against the wet pavement as she left the club. The thump of the bass still echoed faintly in her ears, but her thoughts were louder.
Dante Cross.
The man who could make a room fall silent with just a glance. The man whose name carried weight in whispers. She had worked at the club for almost a year, and not once had he looked at her — until tonight.
Her mind replayed that brief, searing moment when his dark eyes found hers. Not just looked — noticed. Really noticed. Like he could see straight through her carefully built walls. She hated how her heart had stuttered, hated that his gaze lingered long enough to make her skin burn.
She reached the small apartment she had been renting since arriving in California, fumbling with the keys before slipping inside. The air was stale with the faint scent of coffee from the morning. She dropped her purse on the couch and leaned back against the door, letting out a long breath.
“Why now?” she muttered to herself.
Why tonight, after months of being invisible, had Dante decided to take interest? She didn’t need this. Not when she still had scars that hadn’t healed. Not when Adrian’s shadow still clung to her like smoke.
Her chest tightened at the thought of her ex. Adrian — charming, magnetic, and utterly destructive. She had loved him once, more than she should have, before she realized love meant nothing to him except what he could take. Nights filled with whispered promises had turned to cold demands and bruising touches. She had run, leaving behind everything, thinking she had escaped.
She rubbed her palms over her face and pushed the thought away.
But Dante Cross noticing her was dangerous. He wasn’t Adrian — but men like that didn’t look at women like her without reason. She told herself she could keep her head down, keep working, and slip back into the background.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table.
Luna’s brows furrowed as she reached for it. An unknown number. She almost ignored it, but something in her gut made her swipe it open.
The message was short.
“You can’t hide forever, Luna.”
Her breath caught. The phone slipped slightly in her grasp, her fingers trembling as she stared at the words.
She didn’t recognize the number, but every nerve in her body screamed danger. It could be Adrian. Or someone working for him. Or someone from the past who knew exactly where she had gone.
Her pulse quickened, the walls of the apartment suddenly feeling too close, too thin.
She dropped the phone onto the couch and backed toward the window, scanning the street below as if expecting to see someone waiting in the shadows.
The night outside was calm, but her chest felt tight with the weight of the words.
She wasn’t sure if it was Adrian or not. But she knew one thing — she hadn’t run far enough.
And now, Dante Cross had noticed her.
The two worlds she feared most might soon collide.
- Writer
