Love in the dark

Chapter 1

Lena Rivera had a habit of falling in love with the wrong men, not the loud, obvious kind of wrong—no, hers were quieter, more dangerous. The ones who smiled like they meant it but never let her all the way in men who were good on paper and emotionally bankrupt in person. The kind who could string together the perfect apology but never remember the details that mattered. Men who said I love you like it was a script they’d memorized, not a truth they’d earned.

She didn’t blame them anymore, not entirely. Somewhere along the line, she’d started wondering if maybe—just maybe—she kept choosing men who couldn’t love her because some deep, buried part of her didn’t believe she deserved the kind of love that stayed the kind that saw her in every shade—sharp, tired, stubborn, brilliant—and didn’t flinch. The bookstore bell chimed behind her as she stepped out into the early evening chill, scarf wrapped tight under her chin, and Hugo the Cat’s latest vet bill folded in her pocket like a paperweight of guilt.

“He’s not even nice to me,” she muttered, fishing for her car keys. “I keep you alive, and you hiss at me. "Where’s the gratitude, Hugo?” She slid into the driver’s seat, the cold leather making her wince. Her reflection in the mirror caught her off-guard. Her curls were already slipping loose from the bun she’d meticulously tied that morning. Her eyes were tired, but not dull. She still had that spark—that fire that had built Rivera Communications from a laptop on her aunt’s kitchen table to one of the most in-demand boutique firms in the city.

Maybe that’s what made it worse, because Lena was someone who loved hard, who fought harder, who believed in people even after they disappointed her. And lately… she felt like she was waiting. Waiting for something she couldn’t quite name a moment a shift a person she had her work—narrative design for high-profile brands, strategic messaging for powerful people who had no idea how to tell their own stories. She’d just landed a contract with Morgan & Chase, the investment firm that everyone wanted to be in bed with. Their public image needed polish after a scandal involving a former partner, and Lena was brought in to clean it up—though no one told her the CEO, Eli Morgan, would be the one to look her dead in the eye, like he could read every corner of her soul. He wasn’t the first client who tried to rattle her, but he was the first one who succeeded.

Still, work was steady. She had the bookstore gig on weekends to stay grounded, and the tea shop on the 3rd where the barista knew her order by heart Earl Grey with lavender, a splash of oat milk, no sweetener. Her life wasn’t bad. It was full in the ways that mattered—routine, rhythm, responsibility, but still, something felt hollow, like she was walking through a well-designed set that only looked like a life someone was missing someone real, someone who didn’t flinch at honesty or hide behind half-truths and deflection someone who didn’t mistake ambition for armor.

She laughed at herself—quiet, almost bitter. “Romantic fool,” she murmured, clicking on the radio as if it could drown out the ache. The next song caught her off-guard due to the melody of the lyrics. You can’t love her right ‘til you love your own reflection… She froze. It wasn’t the first time a song had punched her in the chest, but this one hit differently. Maybe because it wasn’t about her, maybe because it sounded like something meant for someone else entirely. Someone like him. She didn’t know it then, but somewhere across the city, Eli Morgan stood in his corner office, staring at his own reflection in the darkened glass, wondering the same thing he’d been wondering a hundred nights before. Would anyone ever love the man he kept buried under all that control? And soon, their worlds would crash into each other not like fireworks, more like gravity.