The early morning light barely touched the sky as I stepped out, balancing a crate of wine bottles in my arms. The streets were quiet, save for the faint murmur of distant chatter. Suddenly, a ripple of movement swept through the crowd.

“Make way! Alpha Romeo’s convoy is coming!” someone whispered urgently.

I froze at the corner of the street, watching as a sleek black SUV rolled into view. The windows were tinted, and surrounding it were several stern-faced enforcers, their expressions cold and unyielding. Indigo’s voice echoed in my mind, reminding me that Romeo Powell was inside that vehicle.

I hesitated for a moment, then took a step forward. But before I could even get close, one of the enforcers turned his sharp gaze on me, his aura flaring with dominance as he barked, “Stay back, Omega!”

I opened my mouth to explain, but he shoved me before I could speak. I stumbled backward, my feet slipping on the damp pavement, and landed hard in a puddle. The crate tumbled from my arms, the bottles shattering on the ground, their contents mixing with the muddy water that soaked the hem of my jeans.

The street fell silent, the onlookers too afraid to make a sound. I bit my lip and looked up at the SUV. Just then, a gust of wind caught the edge of the tinted window, revealing a glimpse of the man inside.

His dark hair was swept back, and his piercing eyes—deep and unreadable—locked with mine for the briefest moment. A faint, intoxicating scent of pine and musk wafted through the air, sending a shiver down my spine. Then the window closed again, and the SUV moved on as if the exchange had never happened.

The enforcer shot me a cold glare, his alpha tone low but menacing. “Try that again, and you’ll regret it.”

With that, he turned and followed the convoy, disappearing around the corner. I pushed myself up from the ground, brushing the dirt from my jeans. Those eyes…

They were unfamiliar, yet they felt etched into my very soul, stirring something deep within me.

Indigo’s voice whispered in my ear, soft and haunting: *Did you see him? That was Alpha Romeo.*

Since that day when Romeo’s guards pushed me to the ground on the street, I’ve deliberately avoided the main roads, selling my liquor in the quieter alleys instead.

My tavern, tucked away in an unremarkable corner of the west side of the city, isn’t large, but it’s peaceful enough. The liquor, which I brew myself, is called *Moonlit Brew*—crisp, smooth, and gradually building a loyal clientele.

One day, the sky turned gloomy, and by evening, rain began to fall. I closed up early, holding an umbrella as I made my way home.

The streets were silent, the only sound the steady patter of rain.

As I passed near the old city wall, I caught sight of a figure.

A man in a dark suit, sitting alone on the steps of the abandoned watchtower, a bottle of liquor in his hand.

He tilted his head back and took a swig.

I squinted through the rain and realized it was Romeo.

I froze, instinctively wanting to turn around and take another route.

But then he turned his head and glared at me.

I stood there, caught between moving forward and retreating.

“The liquor seller?” he asked, his voice rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in a long time.

I tightened my grip on the umbrella handle and nodded.

He scoffed, shaking the bottle in his hand. “Cheap stuff. Tastes terrible.”

I pressed my lips together, not responding.

He stood up and walked toward me.

Rain dripped from his sleeves, his face pale as death, but his eyes were dark and piercing.

I took half a step back, but he grabbed my arm.

He smirked, his voice low. “You’re scared of me?”

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “The Alpha’s reputation precedes him. I wouldn’t dare offend.”

He stared at me for a moment before finally letting go, turning to leave.

For some reason, I found myself speaking up. “If the Alpha doesn’t mind, I have a new batch of *Moonlit Brew* here.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I was startled at myself.

Romeo paused, glancing back at me with a raised brow.

I steeled myself and pulled a bottle from my basket, handing it to him.

He took it, his fingers brushing against mine.

I flinched slightly, pulling my hand back.

He chuckled softly, uncorking the bottle and taking a sip.

“Not bad,” he said simply, his gaze fixed on me.

I felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny, looking away.

“What’s your name?” he asked suddenly.

“Zhuri Freeman.”

“Zhuri…”

He repeated it under his breath.

The rain grew heavier, my umbrella struggling to hold up.

Romeo glanced at it, then shrugged off his jacket and tossed it at me.

“Wear it,” he said, already turning away.

I stood there, stunned, watching as he walked into the rain, his figure gradually disappearing into the downpour.

A strange, inexplicable ache settled in my chest as I clutched his jacket, the warmth of it contrasting sharply with the cold rain.