Alessia’s POV

“I’m not going.”

I folded my arms, leaning against the kitchen counter sipping my favourite cup of coffee as Sofia zipped up her dress with the confidence of someone who already knew she’d win.

“You are,” she said without looking at me. “Because you’ve been walking around like the walls are listening, and I refuse to let you disappear into your head.”

“I’m fine,” I lied.

The truth was, the last place I wanted to be was a crowded club filled with strangers, flashing lights, and too many unknown variables. Loud music wouldn’t drown out the feeling crawling under my skin.

She turned, eyes sharp. “You haven’t been fine since that man walked into your café.”

My stomach tightened. “He didn’t do anything. He drank his coffee and left.”

“That’s what worries me.”

I looked away. “Clubs are loud. Crowded. That’s not exactly comforting right now.”

“Exactly why we’re going,” she countered. “No shadows. No silence. Just music, people minding their businesses, and some bad decisions.” She said with a devious smile.

I hesitated.

Then sighed with my free hand covering my face. “One drink.”

Sofia grinned. “That’s my girl.”

The club swallowed us whole.

Lights sliced through the darkness, music pounding so hard I felt it in my bones. Bodies pressed together—heat, sweat, laughter. Everyone was wrapped up in their own world, yet my unease only sharpened.

The moment I stepped inside, it happened.

I had that unusual feeling, and I tried to swallow the thick air that just built up in my throat.

Like invisible fingers trailing down my spine. Like someone had been waiting.

My breath caught. My body reacted before my mind could.

I lifted my gaze.

Above the crowd, behind smoked glass and dim gold light, a private section overlooked the dance floor.

And there he was.

A man stood perfectly still, like a painting brought to life.

Tall. Broad. Dressed in black that didn’t look fashionable—it looked authoritative. One hand rested casually on the railing, his posture relaxed but dangerous, as if the entire room answered to him.

His eyes locked onto mine.

He didn’t blink. Didn’t look away.

Everything else blurred.

The music faded. The crowd dissolved.

It felt like recognition—deep and unsettling. As though my body knew him, even if my mind didn’t.

I swallowed hard.

“Alessia?” Sofia shouted and shook my stiff body. “You okay?”

I nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just—hot in here.”

But I couldn’t look away.

He didn’t smile.

Didn’t signal.

Just watched me like he had expected me to be here.

Then someone stepped beside him.

My breath stuttered.

The man from the café.

The black suit. The man who had his eyes on me the entire afternoon.

He leaned in and whispered something into the stranger’s ear.

The man above stiffened—just barely. His jaw tightened, but his posture remained composed, elegant, controlled.

And suddenly, I understood.

That man hadn’t been watching me.

He’d been reporting on me.

A chill raced down my spine.

“Drink,” Sofia said, pressing a glass into my hand.

I downed it without tasting it. I felt warmth spreading through me, dulling the edge of fear and replacing it with something reckless.

I looked up again—bolder this time.

The man from the café glanced down and met my gaze.

Not openly.

Carefully.

Like he knew he’d been caught.

He murmured something again, then disappeared into the shadows.

The man above didn’t move.

Didn’t stop watching me.

“This place has bad energy,” I muttered.

Sofia laughed. “You say that about every place with attractive men.”

“This feels different.”

I felt his energy around me before I saw him.

That presence—stronger now. Heavier.

A hand brushed the small of my back. Warm. Controlled. Deliberate.

I turned slowly, trying to maintain my gait as I was already feeling tipsy.

He stood too close.

Up close, he was devastating.

Dark eyes. Sharp jaw. A faint scar near his brow that only added to his danger. His cologne wrapped around me—deep, masculine, and sensual, I wouldn't mind sniffing him out.

“You shouldn’t stare,” he said quietly.

My pulse jumped, but I held my ground. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “You noticed.”

“I always notice.”

His gaze dipped—my lips, my throat, down to my open cleavage—before returning to my eyes. “You look… tempting.”

Heat curled low in my stomach, and my nipples felt erect like someone was controlling them.

“I don’t know you,” I said.

“No,” he agreed softly. “But something in you wants to.”

“That’s a dangerous assumption.”

He leaned in, his breath brushing my ear. “Danger is relative.”

My fingers curled at my sides and my nipples felt tingly for some weird reason.

“Why are you watching me?” I whispered.

He straightened slowly. “Because the sight of you is not something I would willingly miss.”

His words unraveled something inside me—something I didn’t know existed.

“You sound like you know me,” I said, forcing myself back to reality.

“I know of you,” he corrected.

“That’s worse.”

A pause.

Then, quietly, “You should leave.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Tonight,” he said. “Go home with your friend. Don’t be alone.”

The exact words my aunt had used.

Suspicion flared. “And why would I listen to you?”

His eyes darkened. “Because not everyone here is watching you for the same reasons I am.”

Before I could respond, he stepped back, a slow, dangerous smile curving his lips.

“Goodnight, Alessia.”

He vanished into the crowd, leaving heat, confusion—and need—

Dante’s POV

“I think she knows she’s being watched.”

I didn’t look at Luca as he spoke. I didn't realize he was back again. My eyes remained fixed on the spot where Alessia had stood moments earlier.

“I know.”

Luca folded his arms. “She clocked me at the café. And tonight.”

“You were sloppy,” I said calmly.

“I needed confirmation.”

“There was never any doubt,” I replied. I had been watching her for years.

Silence stretched.

“Are you sure it was wise to show yourself?” Luca asked.

My chest tightened. “Enough.”

“She doesn’t know who you are yet,” he continued. “But she feels you. You saw it.”

“I did.”

“And that makes her dangerous.”

I turned sharply. “No. It makes her vulnerable.”

“If she remembers—”

“She won’t,” I cut in. “Not yet.”

I adjusted my cufflinks. “You’re dismissed.”

“And if she starts digging?”

My gaze darkened.

“Then,” I said quietly, “I stop watching from the shadows.”

The music thundered below us.

Alessia Moretti had stepped back into my world.

And this time—

I wouldn’t let her walk away again, our encounter keeps replaying in my head, the warmth from her skin, her erect nipples showing through the little clothing she had on. At that moment, I knew she would be the death of me.

Alessia's POV

I felt something was wrong the moment I stepped out of my apartment, I didn't feel like going out but staying indoors wouldn't help, either.

The city moved as it always did-cars honking, voices overlapping, life continuing without care-but my body was tense, alert in a way I couldn't explain. Every instinct I had was screaming, my pulse was drumming louder with each step I took down the street.

I wasn't imagining it anymore.

I was being watched, the encounter from last night confirmed it but I just didn't know if it was for a good cause.

The walk to the café felt endless. I kept glancing at my reflection in shop windows, half-expecting to see someone standing too close behind me. My shoulders were tight, my jaw clenched. I barely recognized myself-this wary version of the girl who once walked through life without fear. I didn't like this version of me, the one who felt like she could shatter at the slightest push.

The club hadn't frightened me.

What unsettled me was how much I'd felt about someone who seemed so dangerous, the way my body responded to him felt so strange.

The way his presence had wrapped around me. The way his voice had lingered in my head long after he disappeared, the trails of his cologne after leaving, and how his words made my nipples tingle. The warning he gave me-you should leave-still echoed like a secret meant only for me.

The café offered temporary refuge. The familiar scent of coffee beans and steamed milk grounded me as I slipped behind the counter. I focused on routine-counting change, wiping tables, aligning cups-anything to keep my mind from wandering back to the night before.

It didn't help.

The bell above the door chimed.

My head snapped up.

Not him, relief rushed through me.

A woman ordering espresso. Then a man on his phone. Just normal people going round their daily routine, I guess I was the only one not feeling normal.

By midday, Sofia still hadn't arrived, and my gaze kept drifting back to the street. That was when I saw it.

Across the road.

A black car.

Parked too perfectly, too deliberately, as if it had always been there but I knew better.

My breath caught in my throat.

The windows were dark, impenetrable. The engine was silent, but the presence of the car felt heavy-intentional. Watching.

I stepped back from the window, I almost tripped on my own legs, my heart was pounding so loudly I was sure the customers could hear it, or not.

Don't panic, I told myself.

My phone vibrated in my hand.

Unknown number.

Cold crept down my spine.

I answered despite myself. "Hello?"

Silence.

Then slow, controlled breathing on the other end of the line.

My grip tightened. "If this is some kind of joke-"

"You're not imagining it," a familiar voice said calmly.

My stomach dropped.

I knew that voice.

"You," I whispered, I didn't realize I had lost my voice until I spoke.

"The man from the club," he said. "And the man who called you the other night."

My knees nearly gave way.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I demanded, lowering my voice, trying not draw attention. "Why are you watching me?"

"Because there's nothing more fun to do," he replied. "And because...." He didn't finish his sentence but I felt him smiling.

My chest rose and fell rapidly. "You don't get to make me feel uncomfortable just because it is fun to you." I couldn't believe my ears.

He let out a soft chuckle. Low. Dangerous. Intimate.

"You're right," he said. "But I get to decide what I do with my woman."

His woman?

I glanced back toward the street. The black car's headlights flickered on.

Fear tangled with something else-something unsettlingly warm.

"Look at me," he said.

"I'm not-"

"Alessia."

My name on his lips sent a shiver straight through me. He said it as he owned it. Like he owned me.

Against every instinct, I moved closer to the window.

He was there.

Not in the car.

On the sidewalk.

Leaning against a lamppost as if he belonged there, dressed in black, posture relaxed, his eyes already lifted to mine as if he'd known exactly where I would stand.

Time slowed.

My breath caught, I could finally take a look at his face... he looked too good to be true, like a walking sculpture.

Dark eyes that didn't rush, didn't flinch. His presence felt deliberate, controlled-with hungry-looking eyes, like a predator waiting to devour his prey.

He raised his phone slightly, acknowledging the call was still connected.

"I told you not to be alone," he said softly.

"I didn't agree to listen to you," I shot back, though my voice trembled.

"No," he agreed. "But you answered."

The bell above the café door chimed again.

My heart skipped.

He pushed off the lamppost and stepped inside.

The air shifted the moment he crossed the threshold.

It was like everyone had their eyes on him, people moved as he approached me, as if they knew him. My entire world narrowed to the space between us as he approached the counter slowly, like he didn't want to startle me. Too late.

Up close, he was dangerously attractive.

Sharper. Warmer. His cologne wrapped around me-dark and masculine. For some weird reason, I wish we could both be alone.

"You shouldn't follow people," I said, shaking off weird thoughts.

"You shouldn't make me come to you, I'm sure you don't want that," he replied.

He looked down briefly at my cleavage, then back to my lips and straight to my eyes. The look sent heat spiraling low in my stomach.

"Who are you?" I asked, trying to gain control of the moment.

"For now," he said quietly, leaning just close enough that I felt his breath, "I'm the man who watches. The man who calls. The man who won't let anyone else claim what belongs to me."

His breath and his cologne made my nipples tingle again, I wanted his hands on them so bad, to touch them and claim them like his.

"That sounds like a threat," I said, almost breathless.

"It's a promise."

He straightened, taking a step back, giving me space even as his presence remained overwhelming. I felt a feeling of longing for him, I wanted to make him mine.

"I know how I make you feel...," he said calmly, looking at my nipples that gave me away. "And I love it." He grinned.

Before I could respond, Sofia burst through the door.

"Alessia-"

Her words died when she saw him, she slowed down her pace and looked at me trying to confirm if I was fine.

He glanced at her once, then back at me, his expression unreadable.

"This isn't over," he murmured. "It's only beginning."

Then he turned and walked out, leaving behind silence, heat-

-and the terrifying realization that I wasn't running from him.

I wanted him even closer now but I was left without a hint of his name and erect nipples...

Alessia's POV

When he left the café, the silence didn't feel right. The music was still playing, but the place no longer felt the same. It was colder, heavier, like something important had passed through and taken the warmth with it, I wondered if everyone else felt it.

I stayed behind the counter, staring at the space where he had stood. My hands tightly rested on the surface, but I didn't realize it until my fingers started to ache. My body still felt tense, like it was trying to catch up with the fact that he was gone. My nipples still felt as hard as a rock, too.

Sofia was watching me, trying to read my mood.

I noticed it when I finally looked up. Her expression wasn't curious or amused. It was sharp and serious. The kind of look she only gave when she sensed trouble, I knew I was in for tons of questions I didn't even have answers to.

She walked over to the door without saying anything, flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED, and locked it. The sound of the lock clicking into place felt louder than it should have. Then she turned and walked straight toward me.

"Okay," she said. "You're going to talk. Right now." She wasn't asking.

I swallowed. "About what?"

She stopped in front of me, crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow. "Don't play dumb. Who was that man?".

I wish I knew.

I leaned back against the counter, suddenly feeling tired. "I don't know."

She let out a short laugh. "You don't know? Alessia, that man walked in like he owned the place. People moved out of his way. And yet he stood right in front of you, way too close for comfort."

"I noticed," I said quietly.

"Did you? And you looked like you forgot how to breathe."

"I didn't, I was just trying to find out why he came" I said, though I wasn't completely sure that was true.

"You did," she replied. "And don't lie to me."

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. "He's the man from the club."

Her face changed immediately. "The one you told me about?"

"Yes. And... he's the one who called me that night."

Her jaw tightened. "So the stalker."

"I don't know if I'd call him that," I said quickly, trying to defend him. I don't know why I did that, though.

"Alessia, he followed you from the club, called you without explaining how he got your number, and now he shows up at your workplace. What exactly would you call that?"

I didn't answer right away. I didn't know how to explain what I felt without sounding foolish because I know Sofia wouldn't buy any excuses.

"It's not like that," I finally said. "When he's around, I don't feel scared. He makes my body react in ways I have never felt, with just his words."

"That's not a good thing," she said.

"I know," I replied. "But he doesn't feel random. He feels familiar. Like my body knows him even if my mind doesn't."

Sofia shook her head slowly. "That's dangerous thinking."

"I know it is," I said. "That's why it scares me."

She studied my face for a moment. "You don't owe him anything. Not your attention. Not curiosity. Whatever you're feeling doesn't mean you have to entertain it and I'm sure you will get over it."

"I know," I said.

But knowing didn't make the feeling disappear.

By the time we locked up, night had fully settled in. The street outside was quiet, almost empty. The air felt cooler than usual, It felt weird.

"I'll walk you halfway," Sofia said as she put on her jacket.

"I'll be fine," I replied, forcing a smile.

She gave me a look that said she didn't believe me. We walked together until we reached the corner where our paths split.

She stopped and grabbed my arm. "Text me when you get home."

"I will."

She hesitated, then hugged me tightly. "Please be careful."

"I always am," I said

But the words felt hollow the moment they left my mouth. I wish I had followed her.

I walked away, my heels clicking softly against the pavement. The streetlights cast long shadows that stretched across the road. Every sound felt louder in the quiet.

After a few minutes, I felt uneasy.

Then I heard it.

Footsteps.

I slowed down slightly.

The footsteps slowed too.

My heart started pounding.

Don't panic, I told myself.

I kept walking, trying to convince myself I was imagining it. When I turned onto a narrower street, the footsteps followed.

They were closer now.

Faster.

My chest tightened. "Hello?" I called out, hating how weak my voice sounded.

No answer.

Before I could react, a hand grabbed my wrist.

I screamed as pain shot through my arm. I was yanked backward into the shadows so hard I almost lost my balance. My bag slipped off my shoulder and hit the ground, spilling its contents across the pavement.

"Let go of me!" I shouted, kicking and struggling.

"Stop moving," a rough voice said close to my ear. I didn't recognize it.

Fear rushed through me. I fought harder, scratching blindly, trying to pull free. Another hand clamped over my mouth, cutting off my scream.

I bit his hand as hard as I could.

The man cursed, and his grip loosened slightly.

For a second, I thought I might break free but I wasn't strong enough to do that.

Then the pressure returned, stronger than before.

I struggled, my heart racing, my mind spinning with fear. My wrist burned where he held me. My legs trembled as I tried to stay upright.

Then everything stopped.

The grip had vanished suddenly, like it had never been there.

I stumbled forward, gasping for air. I gathered what was left of my strength and tried to run.

The street was silent.

Too silent.

I turned, my vision blurry, trying to understand what had happened.

A figure stood at the edge of the light. Watching.

I couldn't make out his face.

Before I could speak or move-

Everything went black.