The billionaire vampire

She shouldn’t have opened that door. Was her first instinct. Her initial taught. The knock came at 2:17 a.m. Not 2:15. Not 2:20. 2:17. The red numbers glowed against the darkness of Alina Moretti’s bedroom wall as she lay frozen beneath her thin blanket, listening to the second knock echo through her small apartment. Slow. Measured. Deliberate. No one knocked like that. I am certain of that Not in this part of the city. Outside, rain streaked down the window, blurring the neon lights from the nightclub across the street—Velvet Noire, where she worked three nights a week pretending to be confident. The knock came again. Alina sat up. Her heart thudded so hard she felt it in her throat. Her roommate wasn’t home. Her phone battery was dead. And she had just gotten home twenty minutes ago. Another knock. Then silence. She swallowed. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was— Her door handle turned. With her fears, Slowly. It didn’t open. But someone was testing it. The air in her room changed. Not colder. Heavier. More heavier than she has ever felt Like something ancient had just stepped into her world. And then— The knocking stopped. She didn’t sleep. By morning, she convinced herself she imagined it. People in her building were strange. Maybe someone was drunk. Maybe someone had the wrong apartment. Maybe she was being dramatic. She always was. By evening, she was back at Velvet Noire. The bass pulsed through her bones as lights painted the dance floor in electric blues and violent reds. Bodies swayed. Laughter rose. Champagne glasses clinked. Alina stood behind the bar, her long dark hair tied back, her fingers moving automatically as she poured drinks. She hated this place. But it paid. And she needed the money. Her father’s hospital bills didn’t care about her discomfort or how she feels at that time “Table six,” her manager barked. “VIP.” She only nodded and grabbed the bottle of rare whiskey lost in taughts to drawn her desires . VIP tables meant powerful men. Rich men. Dangerous men very, very dangerous men She approached slowly. And then she saw him. Everything inside her stopped especially her heart He sat alone. Black suit. No tie. Collar slightly open. Pale skin that almost seemed to glow beneath the lights. Dark and luscious hair brushed back like he owned time itself. But it was his eyes majorly Silver. Not Grey at all Not blue also, Silver. They weren’t watching the dancers. They were watching her. Her steps faltered. The air around him felt wrong. Like standing near a live wire. “Your whiskey, sir,” she said, her voice softer than usual. He didn’t reach for the glass. He didn’t blink. “You were afraid last night,” he said calmly. Her fingers tightened around the tray. “I—I don’t know what you mean.” A faint smile curved his lips. It wasn’t kind. It wasn’t warm. Not hot but it wasn't warm It was predatory. “I knocked,” he said. The tray slipped from her hands. The glass shattered against the marble floor. Gasps rose from nearby tables. Her breath caught. It was him. The 2:17 a.m. knock. Her knees nearly buckled. “You…” she whispered. His gaze darkened slightly, and something flickered in his eyes—something inhuman. “Sit,” he commanded softly. And she did. She didn’t know why. It was like she was shocked herself. She had different taughts that instance Her body moved before her brain could argue. He leaned forward slightly, studying her like she was something fragile. Or something he had already claimed. “You live in apartment 4C,” he continued. “You work here three nights a week. You visit St. Mary’s Hospital every Sunday at noon.” he was trying to be specific He said all this looking straight into her eyes Her stomach dropped. Majorly out of shock. “How do you know that?” His fingers brushed the rim of his untouched glass. “I know everything.” That wasn’t arrogance. It was fact Not guess work but fac She paused abit before asking . “Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice trembling despite her effort to sound brave. He tilted his head slightly. “You smell different.” Her face burned. “Excuse me?” “Fear,” he clarified. “Innocence.” His eyes darkened. “Blood.” Her heart skipped. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t flirting. This was something else. Something dangerous with a lot of perils . He stood suddenly. The movement was too fast. Too fluid. He was beside her before she couldn’t process it. His hand wrapped around her wrist. Cold. Not human cold. Graveyard cold. He felt it like the hot sun. And his eyes— They flashed red. Just for a second. But she saw it. She wasn’t crazy. It was as clear as the break of dawn. “You’re trembling,” he murmured, his voice lower now. “Let go of me,” she whispered. Instead, he leaned closer. His breath ghosted over her ear. “I’ve waited a long, long time for you.” The music around them faded in her ears. The club. The people. Everything blurred. “What do you mean?” she asked weakly. But before he could answer— A scream tore through the club. High. Piercing. Panicked. Heads turned. A body dropped near the dance floor. Blood pooled beneath a man’s neck. Two puncture wounds. Alina stared. Her mind refused to understand. But her body did. She looked up at him. His lips were stained red. He hadn’t touched the whiskey. He hadn’t left her side. And yet— He smiled faintly. “Now,” he said calmly, “you’re involved.” Panic surged through her. Through ever cell of her being “You did that.” “Not here,” he replied smoothly. “But you did.” He didn’t deny it. Instead, he pulled her closer as chaos erupted in the club. As if he was about to lean for a kiss", People screamed. Security rushed in. Someone called the police. “You need to leave,”she whispered urgently. His grip tightened like he was strangling a bear for the first time . “No,” he said. “You do.” “You misunderstand,” he murmured, his eyes glowing faintly again. “I didn’t come for him.” Her heart slammed against her ribs. He looked down at her wrist. At her pulse. At the life racing beneath her skin. “I came for you.” Her world tilted. Why? She was nobody. Poor. Ordinary. Invisible. In all ramifications His fingers slid from her wrist to her chin, lifting her face gently but possessively. “You belong to something you don’t understand yet,” he said. “I belong to nothing,” she snapped, anger flickering through her fear. His smile widened slightly. “We’ll see.” Sirens wailed outside. Blue and red lights flashed through the club windows. He leaned in close, so close his lips hovered near her neck. Her breath hitched. As if she was about to stutter, Was this how she died? She said, In a nightclub? Looking shocked, In the arms of a stranger? Instead— He whispered: “Run.” With a calm but confident voice. And vanished. Not walked away. Not slipped into the crowd. Vanished. Like smoke dissolving into the dark. She stumbled backward, staring at the space he had occupied. Impossible. That wasn’t possible. But the body on the floor was real, I felt every inch of it. The blood was real. The sirens were real. And the memory of his red eyes— Very real. That night, she didn’t go home. She couldn’t. Instead, she sat in the hospital chapel, staring at the dim candlelight, her hands shaking uncontrollably. Her father slept upstairs, unaware that monsters were real. Unaware that his daughter had just been marked. Because she felt it. Something had changed. Like a thread had wrapped around her soul. Pulling. Binding. Claiming. The chapel door creaked open. Her heart stopped. Slow footsteps echoed behind her. “You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered without turning. “I can go anywhere,” he replied. Her eyes filled with tears. “Please,” she whispered. “Just leave me alone please leave me alone. ” He moved closer and closer. The air thickened again. “I can’t.” “Why?” Silence. Then— “Because they’re coming for you now.” Her blood ran cold as one in a graveyard . “Who?” His voice lost its teasing yet smooth edge . For the first time, it sounded… serious. “Others he asked. ” A shadow flickered across the chapel wall. Not his. Another. Taller. Broader. Watching. Alina turned slowly with no intent. And saw red eyes glowing in the darkness behind him. More than one. Her breath shattered in her lungs. He stepped in front of her protectively as a bodyguard. His body suddenly rigid. Predatory. Dangerous. “They found you faster than I expected,” he muttered. The shadows moved closer and closer. The scent of blood filled the air. Alina grabbed the back of the pew to keep from collapsing. “What’s happening?” she whispered. He didn’t look at her. His eyes glowed fully now. Crimson. Terrifying. “Your life,” he said quietly, “just ended.” The chapel lights shattered. Darkness swallowed the room. And something hissed from the shadows— Presently “She belongs to the Council.” Alina screamed. And the war for her soul began Heavily, without warnings