Chapter Two
1199 Words
{ DOMINIC }
I woke to silence, and it felt like a physical blow. The bed beside me was empty—cold, untouched. My hand reached instinctively for her—my raven-haired midnight temptation—but met nothing. Only the faint scent of her lingered, teasing me like smoke slipping through my fingers.
She was gone.
Vanished.
And with her went the warmth I hadn’t realized I craved.
The only thing left on the bed was a blue pendant necklace—proof she had been here, and a reminder she’d probably forgotten it while fleeing from me.
I picked up the pendant, turning it between my fingers before slipping it into my pocket. Then I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, boots meeting cold floor tiles as I scanned the room. Sheets slightly ruffled, pillows displaced, but nothing—no note, no message, no trace of her beyond the perfume clinging to the air. My chest tightened, anger and disbelief coiling around my ribs.
The bathroom door creaked when I pushed it open. Some foolish part of me expected her to be there—brushing her hair, humming softly, giving me something to anchor this maddening memory to. But the room was empty.
Frustration flared hot in my chest. She had walked into my life, invaded my night, stolen my attention—and disappeared without a sound.
I dressed methodically, my movements sharp, almost violent, as if speed alone could drown out the memory of her. But my mind refused to quiet.
Her lips.
The sharp intake of her breath at my touch.
Her body pressed against mine like it had always belonged there.
Every detail tormented me.
---
Downstairs, the secretary looked up from her screen, her expression wary as I approached.
“Did she leave a message? Anything?” My voice was deceptively calm, each syllable cut with ice.
“No, sir. Nothing.” She avoided my gaze entirely.
I exhaled slowly, trying to steady the storm inside me. My little dawn—the woman with raven hair and curves I could still feel in memory—had left without a trace. Not even a whisper.
My teeth clenched.
---
I stormed to my car, slamming the door behind me. The drive to the office was silent, but my mind raced relentlessly. Traffic lights blurred, lanes melted into one another. I could still feel her hands, hear her soft laughter, taste the fire of her kiss.
She had left me fevered, restless, wanting more—yet vanished before I could even breathe her name.
When I arrived at the office, my employees kept their distance. Smart of them. My mood radiated cold fury.
---
A familiar laugh suddenly broke through the tension—light, unbothered, annoyingly casual. Ethan Marlowe, my partner, strolled in like he owned the place. Hands in his pockets, eyes twinkling with amusement, leaning lazily against my desk.
“Morning, Dom. Or should I say… heartbreaker of the century?” he smirked.
I growled in response. That was all he got. My eyes drifted back to the pendant in my hand, trying to remember the exact shade of her brown eyes.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Alright, that’s… different. Something tells me the night went sideways. Go on. Spill it.”
And I did.
Everything.
Her entrance, the fire of her lips, the way she moved, her laughter—then her disappearance.
Ethan listened quietly, not interrupting, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Hotel room?” he finally asked. “CCTV?”
I slammed my hand on the desk. “No cameras. VVIP section. And the room was under my name. No record of her. Nothing. She disappeared into thin air.” My voice was low and dangerous, each word a controlled growl.
“She vanished?” His surprise was genuine.
“Yes,” I hissed. “Like she never existed.”
But she had existed—too vividly.
Her body against mine, her fingers gripping me, the shiver she’d pulled from my touch. She had entered my life, consumed my night, and vanished like smoke.
Ethan smirked. “Bold girl. Maybe that’s the plan?”
I glared. “Plan? She’s in my head. In my blood. And she’s gone. No plan explains that.”
Silence settled between us. I could feel my pulse hammering. My hands itched to find her, to touch her again. I could almost feel her warmth under my palms, smell her perfume, taste the fire she’d left behind.
She had power over me—raw, unrelenting—and I didn’t even know her name.
A knock interrupted the tension.
“Come in,” I snapped, still consumed by thoughts of her.
My secretary entered, holding a file. I opened it—and froze.
Lucas Marchand.
A client I already knew despised me. But to threaten me with a lawsuit? That was new. And stupid.
He was audacious enough to challenge my empire—a company built on crushing anyone foolish enough to oppose me.
I smirked darkly. “This i***t thinks he can sue me?” I muttered, a dangerous gleam igniting in my eyes. The threats, the legal jargon, the audacity—it was laughable.
Ethan leaned over my shoulder. “Looks like someone doesn’t know who they’re dealing with.”
“I’ll hire the best lawyer on the planet if this actually goes to court,” I said, jaw tightening. “And when I’m done with them, they’ll wish they never even breathed my name.”
But even as anger simmered, her memory burned through me stronger.
Ethan nudged the file. “So, what now? Handle this first, or track your mysterious raven?”
A low growl rumbled in my chest. “Before I even touch this pathetic lawsuit, I find her. Every second I don’t know who she is… my control frays.”
Ethan laughed. “Fair. So you’re going full detective? Scents, shadows, whispers?”
I shot him a knife-sharp look. “I will find her. And when I do, she won’t escape again. Not tonight. Not ever.”
Ethan’s smirk widened. “Fun fact—I asked her to dance close to you. That was my idea. Knew you’d notice her.”
I froze. Surprise flickered, sharpening into suspicion. “You brought her to me?”
“Guilty,” he said with a shrug. “But… worked, didn’t it?”
I exhaled, frustration and longing mixing viciously. “Worked? I don’t regret it. I’m furious. She left without a name, a number—nothing. And now this lawsuit.” I tossed the file aside.
Ethan leaned back, amused. “Lucky for you, Dom, you’re Dominic Meyer. You’re not intimidated by threats… or disappearances.”
I breathed out slowly, trying to steady the chaos burning inside me.
But all I could see was her—the midnight-haired storm who stole a night, left me raw, craving, and obsessed. My jaw tightened; my fingers brushed the pendant in my pocket.
“I’ll find her,” I whispered, voice like steel.
“My little dawn. My impossible, infuriating, mesmerizing little dawn.”
And when I do…
She’ll never leave again.
- Writer
