You know, I don’t usually mind the rain. Actually, I kinda like it. It’s peaceful, dramatic… fits the whole tortured-artist vibe I got going on. But today? Nope. Today it felt like the universe was out to get me.

I was sitting at the bus station, soaked to my bones. The rain was coming down like a damn waterfall, and of course—just my luck—the bus got canceled. I checked my phone for a cab, tried all the apps, even texted two of my friends. Nothing. The streets were empty, not even a stray cat around. I was just... stuck. Shivering, soaked, and slowly losing my mind.

And then... it happened.

A car pulled up right in front of the bus station. Not just any car. This thing was sleek, shiny, and stupid expensive. Black and tinted like something out of a gangster movie. Honestly, I didn’t even think. I just saw a way out and ran toward it.

I knocked on the window like a madman, already regretting everything but too desperate to care. The window rolled down slowly—real dramatic—and then I saw him.

And by "saw him," I mean... kinda. The rain made everything hazy, but I could tell he was hot. Like, stupid hot. The kind of hot that made your stomach do flips for no reason. Half Asian, half Italian maybe? Blonde. Pale skin. Sharp jawline. Literally looked like he walked straight out of a mafia webtoon. The kind of man you don’t make eye contact with unless you want your soul snatched.

But again... I didn’t think. I just got in the car.

Silence. Heavy silence. And I don’t just mean awkward silence—I mean the air was thick. I could barely breathe. He didn’t say a word. Just started driving like it was no big deal to pick up a random drenched stranger.

I sat there like a statue, clutching my phone and trying not to pass out. His scent was weirdly comforting—woody, kind of smoky—but also intense. Like, Alpha intense. But I brushed it off. Maybe it was his cologne? I don’t know, man. I wasn’t thinking straight.

Then suddenly... his voice.

“Where are you heading?”

Husky. Deep. Like gravel mixed with honey. I literally froze. My brain just stopped working. He asked again, and somehow, I managed to stutter out, “Uh… Near Vincent Villa…”

The driver, who had been silent the whole time too, nodded and said, “We’re heading that way, sir”

Cool. Great. Same direction. Love that for me.

The drive was about thirty minutes, and every second felt like an hour. The only sound was the rain against the windows and my stupid heartbeat thumping in my ears. I tried to distract myself by scrolling through my phone, but I could feel his presence beside me like gravity.

Then... he spoke again.

“What’s your name?”

Oh god.

I swear my soul left my body for a second. I felt heat crawl up my neck as I stammered, “T-theo…”

And then silence again.

But I could feel it. He was looking at me. That gaze? Heavy. Intense. Like he could see through me. I didn’t dare look back. I kept my eyes glued to my screen, pretending to read some article I wasn’t actually processing. My heart was doing cartwheels, and I was screaming internally, but I played it cool on the outside… I think.

Finally, the car slowed. We reached my stop.

I didn’t even look at him. I bolted. Opened the door, mumbled something that maybe sounded like “thanks,” and rushed into the rain again like my life depended on it.

And that’s how it started.

The most terrifying, mysterious, dangerously hot man I’ve ever met…

And me, Theo, the walking disaster, who had no idea what I’d just stepped into.

Continue.....

...----------------...

I didn’t know his name back then.

But now I do.

Han Genovese.

Yeah… that Han.

The name alone makes grown men flinch in this city. Cold, ruthless, magnetic. A dominant Alpha born from Italian mafia blood and Korean tactical genius. He’s the boss of the Genovese Syndicate—the most powerful underground organization on the East Coast.

People whisper rumors. Some say he took over after his father vanished. Some say he made him vanish. No one really knows. No one dares to ask.

He’s tall, lean, always dressed in sharp black suits, like he walked off the cover of some villain magazine. Blonde hair slicked back, except when those rebellious strands fall over his eyes—those deep hazel eyes with golden flecks that look like they can rip open your soul. His scent? Dusky and woody, like forest smoke after rain. Comforting and terrifying all at once. It wraps around you, makes you want to breathe deeper even when you shouldn’t.

He rarely talks. Doesn’t need to. His presence says enough.

No one’s ever seen him flustered, or even slightly off balance.

Until me.

And yeah, I don’t even know what I did… I was just a soaking wet idiot begging for a ride.

I didn’t know what I was back then—just a regular guy trying to get through life, draw webtoons, survive deadlines, and avoid talking to hot strangers with scary auras. But the moment I sat in that car... something shifted.

Something inside him noticed me. And something inside me?

Started to wake up.

God help mee....(⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

Okay. So. The rain stopped, technically. But my brain? Still soaking wet from whatever the hell that event was. You ever just wake up and immediately feel like your life got cursed by some sexy, dangerously well-dressed god? No? Just me?

I blinked up at my ceiling, and the first thing that popped into my mind wasn’t breakfast, or work, or my deadline. No. It was him.

That man. That thing that appeared out of nowhere, with his deep voice and stormcloud energy and eyes that could melt metal.

My pillow still smelled like my shampoo—jasmine and vanilla. But it wasn’t enough. My nose was suddenly on high alert. I could still smell him. That scent—dark, dusky expensive, something sharp and citrusy under all that mystery. Like lightning trapped in a bottle. Why the hell was I remembering his scent?!

And then I saw it.

My phone screen blinked: 1 new message.

No name. No ID.

Just: “Don’t forget the rain.”🫨

I almost threw my phone across the room. WHO SAYS THAT? What does it even mean?? I spiraled. Full-on chaotic-theo-core spiraled.

Maybe it's hallucination....

I mean, is this guy a poet? A stalker? Or a walking fever dream that somehow imprinted on my scent receptors?? And WHY could I still smell him? I’m a beta. Betas don’t do the whole scent-trigger-mating bond nonsense. Right?

…Right?

And this weird... heat? Like under my skin? No fever. No allergies. Just this tight, humming pull in my chest like something inside me was waking up and it was not beta behavior. I literally stood in the mirror like: “Is this puberty 2.0 or did I just get cursed?”🫸🏻

Deep breath. Okay.

Let me reset.

I’m Theo. 21. Manhwa artist. I sketch hot characters and have emotional breakdowns over deadlines. But I love sketching more than my life. I go to one of the best art colleges in the city and also work for a well-known publishing company. Basically, my life is 70% art, 20% caffeine, 10% crying while shading muscles.

I’ve got curly fluffy hair that defies gravity, skin that glows like honey under the sun, and apparently, I smell like an ocean breeze according to the random admirers who’ve confessed to me. But love? I suck at it. I flirt like a pro but catch feelings like a confused kitten.

My family is kind of iconic.

Mom’s an elegant omega pianist who plays like her fingers are casting spells. Dad’s a cool-headed beta and a total badass police officer. And my little brother—18, beta, and an award-winning swimming champ. Like, Olympic material. The good-looking gene pool didn’t skip anyone, apparently.

And me? I’ve always thought I was a beta.

Until now.

Until him.

Now my body’s acting weird, my senses are on edge, and my mind keeps playing back that stupid, perfect jawline and the low hum of his voice.

Something’s happening.

And I don’t think it’s just a crush.

No. It’s like my entire system is glitching.

And the worst part?

I think he knew it before I did.

---

To be continued.....

Next: Theo’s world unravels further... and the mystery man? Closer than ever.....

I’m not crazy.

...Right?

Because I swear I dreamed it. The car. The rain. The text. All of it.

I groaned, dragging the blanket over my face like it could shield me from my own brain. “Don’t forget the rain.” Who even sends something like that? I must have hallucinated it. Maybe it was my own overworked brain trying to be poetic for once.

I yawned, grabbed my phone, and—

Nope.

The text was still there. Bright as daylight on my lock screen.

Unknown Number:

> Don’t forget the rain.

I blinked. Stared. Blinked again.

Okay. So maybe I was crazy.

Or maybe some weirdo prank-texted me.

Yeah. That had to be it. Totally. 100%. Some scammer out here is trying to mess with me.

Except... it didn’t feel like that. My chest felt tight. There was this weird... warmth under my skin that I couldn’t shake off. And the longer I stared at those words, the more I swore I could smell something dusky , like-him and sharp—like rain on the pavement. Which is impossible because I was in my BED.

I dragged a hand through my curls, which were sticking up in every direction. My reflection on the phone screen looked like I lost a fight with a thunderstorm. Great.

“Okay, Theo, get a grip,” I muttered to myself. I tossed the phone aside like it was cursed and sat up. My room was a mess—sketches everywhere, a half-empty mug of coffee on my desk, clothes draped over my chair. Normal chaos. Nothing spooky or supernatural here.

Except my phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number:

> “You didn’t forget.”

OH HELL NO.🫨🫨

I literally choked on air.

I didn’t even respond. I just stared at the message, heart thumping like a drum in my ears. I squeezed my eyes shut, counted to five, opened them again.

Still there.

Okay. So maybe it wasn’t a dream. And maybe I wasn’t hallucinating. And maybe—just maybe—I was being stalked by a guy I met for exactly 30 minutes during a storm.

A guy who looked like he could ruin my life. A guy whose scent was still messing with my head. A guy I didn’t even know the name of.

Why me????

I flopped back onto the bed, covering my face with a pillow. I swear I could still smell him. Like he was right there, standing in my room. My heart wouldn’t calm down. And my skin felt... prickly? Like it wanted something. I didn’t know what.

I grabbed my phone again.

Scrolled up.

Scrolled down.

Maybe if I stared long enough, the texts would disappear.

Spoiler: They didn’t.....

......................

"Who knew one stare from a stranger could mess up my entire system? My body’s acting like a ticking bomb, my scent’s shifting, and my stupid heart won’t shut up. If this is what losing your mind smells like, then damn—I’m already too deep."👄