Dark Romance

Rain swallowed the city whole. From the twenty-second floor of the Valmont Hotel, the streets below looked drowned in silver and shadow, headlights smeared across wet pavement like blood dragged through water. Isabella Vale hated storms. They reminded her of screaming. She tightened her coat around herself as she hurried through the empty hallway, heels clicking too loudly against marble floors. The charity gala downstairs had already become unbearable—too many rich men pretending to be saints, too many women smiling with venom hidden behind diamonds. And too many eyes watching her. Especially his. Damian Moretti. Even thinking his name made something cold slide down her spine. She had noticed him the moment she entered the ballroom. Tall. Mercilessly handsome. Dressed entirely in black. The kind of man who looked carved from sin itself. Women wanted him. Men feared him. And Isabella had spent the entire evening pretending not to notice the way his dark eyes followed her across the room. She reached the elevator and pressed the button repeatedly. “Come on…” The hallway lights flickered once. Then twice. A sharp chill crawled over her skin. The elevator doors finally opened with a soft ding. Relief loosened her shoulders—until she looked up. Damian Moretti stood inside. Alone. Her breath caught instantly. The elevator suddenly felt too small, too quiet, too dangerous. He leaned lazily against the mirrored wall, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a glass of whiskey. His black dress shirt was rolled at the sleeves, exposing tattooed veins along powerful forearms. His gaze moved over her slowly. Not politely. Possessively. “Miss Vale,” he said smoothly. His voice was deep enough to feel physical. Isabella forced herself to step inside because turning around would make her look weak. And weakness around men like Damian was fatal. The doors closed behind her. Silence. Heavy. Breathing silence. She pressed the lobby button. Damian didn’t move. Didn’t blink. “You’ve been avoiding me all night,” he said. “I don’t know what you mean.” A soft chuckle left his mouth. “Liar.” Heat rushed into her cheeks despite herself. She stared at the glowing elevator numbers instead of him. “You seem very confident for someone I’ve never spoken to.” “You noticed me.” That wasn’t a question. She hated that he was right. The elevator continued downward. Twenty-one. Twenty. Nineteen. Then suddenly— The lights cut out. The elevator jerked violently before stopping completely. Isabella gasped as darkness swallowed them whole. “What happened?” she whispered. “Relax.” His voice came from somewhere too close. “It’s probably the storm.” Easy for him to say. Her pulse pounded as she pressed herself against the wall, fumbling for her phone. Before she could unlock it, a warm hand closed around her wrist. Electricity shot through her body. “Careful,” Damian murmured. “You’re shaking.” “I’m fine.” “You’re terrified.” The emergency lights flickered on dimly, bathing the elevator in soft red light. And suddenly he looked even more dangerous. Isabella realized with horrifying clarity that Damian Moretti was the kind of man darkness belonged to. His eyes dropped to her mouth. Slowly. Hungrily. “You should stop looking at me like that,” she whispered. His grip tightened slightly. “And how am I looking at you, Isabella?” Her name sounded wrong in his mouth. Too intimate. Too sinful. She swallowed hard. “Like you want something.” A pause. Then he stepped closer. Close enough for her to smell whiskey, smoke, and the storm clinging to his skin. “When I want something,” Damian said quietly, “I take it.”