Chapter One
Streetlights bled gold across the wet pavement, headlights smeared into pale ribbons through the downpour.
Somewhere behind the walls of Valentino’s, bass pulsed, low enough to make the ground beneath my heels vibrate.
I hated this place.
Not Valentino’s specifically, just clubs in general.
Too loud. Too crowded. Too many hands brushing against you like they had permission.
Lena loved it, though.
Which was why I was standing outside at nearly one in the morning in a short black dress I already regretted wearing, waiting for my best friend to come out from the bathroom stall she disappeared into with a man she’d met less than an hour ago.
My phone died in my hand as I went to check the screen again.
Perfect.
I stared at my reflection in the black glass for a second before shoving the phone into my purse with a sigh. Rain wet my hair almost immediately, cold droplets slipping beneath the collar of my coat.
Maybe I should’ve just left.
Lena would survive. Probably.
Assuming she hadn’t already fallen in love with this week’s walking red flag inside Valentino’s.
A burst of laughter spilled through the club doors as someone stumbled outside behind me. Cigarette smoke drifted into the air, sharp against the scent of rain and expensive perfume.
I moved farther beneath the awning, folding my arms tighter around myself.
“Waiting for someone?”
The voice came from beside me.
Not loud. Not intrusive.
Controlled.
Which somehow made me more aware of him, not less.
I turned without thinking twice.
For a moment, all I really registered was dark.
Dark coat. Dark leather gloves. Dark eyes steadily locked on mine.
He had the kind of face people looked at twice without realizing they’d done it. Sharp, handsome features with a cold edge. Enough to make you curious.
He stood close enough that I should’ve noticed him earlier.
But I hadn’t.
And somehow that unsettled me more than his attention did.
Suddenly, standing this close to a stranger felt dangerous in a way I couldn’t explain.
“I’m fine,” I said automatically.
It was instinct more than honesty. The kind of response women gave strangers when they wanted to avoid continuing a conversation.
“Your battery died.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“Your phone.” His eyes shifted back to mine. “It died about two minutes ago.”
A strange feeling curled in the pit of my stomach.
“Were you watching me?”
I meant it lightly. Almost teasing.
The kind of comment that usually made men laugh a bit and back off.
This one didn’t even smile.
Didn’t look the least bit embarrassed either.
If anything, his attention sharpened slightly.
“Yes.”
The answer landed softly between us.
Certain. Unapologetic.
And for some reason, that made it worse.
Heat crept slowly beneath my skin despite the cold.
A black SUV with tinted windows rolled silently up to the curb nearby.
The driver stayed inside with both gloved hands resting on the wheel, eyes fixed forward.
Waiting.
The man beside me didn’t acknowledge the vehicle at all.
“You shouldn’t stand out here alone,” he said.
The words sounded ordinary, but something about his tone made them feel less like concern and more like an order.
Like he was berating me for a mistake I’d made.
“I can take care of myself.”
His gaze moved over my face slowly. Not in the openly vulgar way some men looked at women, but thoughtfully. Carefully. Like he was trying to read me.
“I know,” he said quietly.
My pulse skipped.
Why was I feeling this way?
The rain fell harder around us, tapping softly against the awning overhead.
I should’ve walked away.
That was the disturbing part.
Not the man.
Not the way he watched me like he already knew me.
Not the unsettling calm radiating from him.
It was the fact that every instinct telling me to leave was entangled with an urge to stay.
The club doors opened again behind me, music flooding briefly into the street before muffling shut.
Still no Lena.
I exhaled sharply and glanced toward the entrance.
Lena where the hell are you?
“See, this is usually the part where strangers introduce themselves.” I said dryly, returning my attention to the man.
His left brow perked up slightly, the only indication of any emotion so far.
His attention remained on me for a beat too long.
Then-
“Ren Moreau.”
The name meant nothing to me.
But the second he said it, something shifted.
The valet standing near the curb went still.
A subtle reaction. Not obvious for most people to notice.
I noticed.
Ren was carefully observing me. My reaction.
“Should I know who that is?” I asked carefully, attempting a playful smirk.
One corner of his mouth tilted slightly upward in response.
Not quite a smile.
“You don’t want to.”
The answer should have come off as arrogant. Cold.
Instead, it sounded sincere.
Before I could respond, shouting erupted inside the club. Sharp enough to cut through the music.
The sound of glass shattering followed a second later.
People started spilling through the doors almost immediately.
Too fast. Too frantic.
Fear moves through crowds differently than excitement. You feel the difference instantly.
My stomach tightened.
“What happened?” I called out to no one in particular.
Nobody answered.
A girl shoved past me. Streaks of smudged mascara staining her cheeks.
Two men nearly collided near the entrance, swearing at each other as more people pushed through the doors behind them.
And through all of it, Ren didn’t move.
Didn’t even look surprised.
His attention flicked once toward the entrance before returning calmly to me.
That frightened me more than the screaming.
Sirens wailed somewhere in the distance. Close but not nearly close enough.
I took an unconscious step backward, his hand closing around my wrist instantly.
Firm. Steady.
Heat surged through my arm at the contact.
Ren pulled me toward him before I could fall, his other hand settling firmly against my waist.
Not rough.
Controlled.
Like handling me carefully was important.
For one disorienting second, all I could smell was rain, cedarwood, and smoke.
Of course he smelled expensive. That somehow felt annoying.
But he was too close.
Way too close.
“You need to leave,” I said quietly, looking up at him.
His gaze dropped briefly to my lips before lifting again.
“I’m trying to.”
The words barely settled between us before the sound of a gunshot pierced through the air.
Everything stopped.
Even the crowd froze for half a heartbeat.
Then panic erupted.
Someone screamed as another shot rang out inside the club.
The crowd surged violently toward the street, trampling the ones unfortunate enough to stumble on their way out, in pure, ugly desperation.
People shoved past each other hard enough to send someone crashing into me.
Ren’s arm wrapped firmly around my waist as he turned slightly, taking the brunt of the hit as he positioned himself between me and the entrance, seemingly without a second thought.
My breath caught.
Not because he touched me, but because of how instinctive it felt.
Like his body had moved before he’d even had a chance to think.
Rain dripped from the dark strands of hair falling across his forehead as voices shouted somewhere in the distance. The wail of sirens seemed closer now, red and blue lights flashing faintly against the wet pavement behind us.
Ren barely seemed to notice any of it.
His attention stayed fixed on me.
Steady. Unreadable.
And standing there in the middle of strangers screaming and glass breaking, I had the sudden, disorienting feeling that this wasn’t the first time he’d looked at me like that.
He kept looking at me, like I was the only thing worth paying attention to.
I’d never even seen him before tonight.
I was still trying to convince myself of that when his hand tightened slightly against my waist. Not enough to hurt me, but enough to make me aware of every place he touched.
My heart stumbled in my chest, my breath hitching in my throat as I met his eyes.
And suddenly, terrifyingly-
I had the feeling that if I asked him to let me go-
he wouldn’t.
