Elena didn’t expect him to be waiting for her again. But there Dominic was—leaning against the brick wall near the café’s back exit, half-shadowed, dangerous and beautiful in a way that made her breath hitch.

  She glanced around. No one else. The night was quiet, air heavy and still, the city seeming to pause for this moment.

  “You’re going to get me fired,” she said, trying for lightness as she stepped out the back door.

  Dominic’s mouth curved. “You’d have to stop letting me steal your time first.”

  She rolled her eyes, but the way his gaze trailed down her body made her skin tingle. He hadn’t touched her—not truly—but every look from him felt like a caress. A warning. A promise.

  “I should head home,” she said.

  “I’ll walk you.”

  “You always walk me.”

  His smile sharpened. “Maybe I like being near you.”

  Elena didn’t answer. Mostly because her brain short-circuited every time he got this close. Especially now—when his arm brushed hers lightly, his body just inches away as they moved in step down the empty sidewalk.

  “You’re quiet tonight,” he murmured.

  “I’m thinking.”

  “About?”

  She didn’t look at him. “About whether or not I should let you keep doing this.”

  He stopped walking. She felt it immediately—the shift in the air, the sudden stillness. When she turned, he was watching her with that unreadable expression again.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Doing what, exactly?”

  “Following me. Protecting me. Looking at me like... like you want something you won’t say out loud.”

  Dominic stepped forward, closing the space between them. “What if I do want something?”

  “Then say it.”

  He didn’t. Not with words.

  Instead, he reached up, cupped the side of her face with a warmth that made her shiver. His thumb brushed along her jaw, soft and possessive, and Elena swore her heart stopped.

  “I want to taste you,” he whispered. “But not here. Not like this. Not when it feels like stealing.”

  Her breath caught. The space between them crackled with tension so thick, it was suffocating.

  “Then why don’t you?” she asked, voice barely a whisper.

  He exhaled a sharp breath, almost like it hurt. “Because when I do… I won’t be able to stop.”

  She didn’t back away. “Maybe I don’t want you to.”

  Something in his eyes darkened, and for a second, she thought he’d pull her in—crush her lips with his and drag her into that heat she’d only glimpsed so far.

  But instead, he dropped his hand, taking a slow, deliberate step back.

  “Elena,” he said, voice tight, “I’m trying to do this right. Because once I cross that line with you, there’s no going back. You’ll belong to me. And I won’t let anyone touch what’s mine.”

  The words wrapped around her like chains—and she wasn’t sure if they terrified her or thrilled her.

  “I’m not a thing to claim,” she said, breathless.

  “No,” he agreed. “But you will be chosen.”

  They walked the rest of the way in silence, but it wasn’t peaceful. It was thick with everything unsaid. Everything that was simmering just beneath the surface, waiting for the next spark.

  When they reached her apartment, she turned to him, keys in hand.

  “Are you coming up?” she asked, instantly regretting the question—not because she didn’t want him to, but because of what it meant.

  Dominic stepped forward slowly, crowding her back against the door. One hand landed above her head, the other brushing her hip, his body pressing into hers just enough to make her gasp.

  “I think about it every damn time,” he murmured, lips brushing her ear. “About what you’d taste like. What sounds you’d make. How soft you’d feel under me.”

  Her knees weakened. Her hand fumbled for the doorknob, gripping it like an anchor.

  “But not tonight,” he added, voice like gravel and silk.

  “Why?” she breathed.

  He didn’t answer. Just smiled, the kind that warned her he was holding back more than she could imagine. Then he leaned in, lips ghosting over the corner of her mouth—but never quite touching.

  “Sweet dreams, cara mia,” he whispered, and then he was gone, disappearing into the night like a shadow.

  Elena stood frozen, heart pounding, body buzzing with unspent electricity.

  What just happened?

  She stumbled into her apartment, locked the door, and pressed her back against it, trying to breathe. She touched her lips, as if she could still feel the echo of his almost-kiss.

  She wanted more.

  So much more.

  That night, sleep didn’t come easily.

  When it did, it brought dreams of him—Dominic’s hands on her waist, his voice in her ear, his mouth finally claiming hers with the intensity he kept holding back.

  She woke up tangled in her sheets, breathless and aching for something that had never even happened.

  And then her phone buzzed.

  A single message. No name. No number.

  “You’re not safe. Stay inside today.”

  Her blood turned cold.

  Another message followed—seconds later.

  “This isn’t from me.”