Lara curled into her blanket as rain pattered against her window, the glow of her bedside lamp casting golden light over the worn pages of Crimson Shadows. Her heart beat faster with every word.

Ethan—the mafia villain—was as cruel as he was captivating. His presence on the page was magnetic. And Alex, the hero? Kind. Strong. Safe. Everything Ethan wasn’t.

Lara smiled. “If I was in this world, I’d pick Alex in a heartbeat.”

As if the book heard her, the ink on the page shimmered.

She blinked.

Letters twisted. Words dissolved. The paper beneath her fingers rippled like water.

“Wait… what—”

A strange pull yanked at her chest.

Then—darkness.

Everything went black.

She hit the ground hard.

Cold marble bit into her palms. The scent of chlorine filled her lungs. Lara gasped, eyes flying open to a glowing chandelier above her and reflections of blue rippling across the walls.

A luxurious indoor pool. But not just any.

His pool.

“Where the hell am I…” she whispered.

A voice, deep and laced with ice, echoed from behind.

“Who gave you permission to be here, little thing?”

Lara turned sharply.

There he stood. Ethan. Exactly as the book described—tall, dangerous, and unnervingly calm. His wet black shirt clung to his lean frame, his stormy eyes locked on her like a blade to the throat.

She couldn’t speak.

He stepped closer, tilting his head slightly. “Cat got your tongue, little reader?”

Her mouth opened. “You’re—You’re Ethan.”

That made him pause.

“You know my name.” A faint smirk pulled at his lips, though his gaze stayed sharp. “How sweet.”

“I was… reading about you. In a book. And then—I don’t know—I just ended up here!”

He raised an eyebrow. “So you fell out of the sky and into my pool?”

Lara stood up slowly, her legs unsteady. “I swear I’m telling the truth.”

He stared at her for a long moment.

Then, to her confusion, the corner of his mouth twitched. “What a delicate little accident you are.”

Two armed men entered the room. Ethan didn’t even look at them. “She stays. No one touches her.”

“But sir—”

“I said,” his tone dropped dangerously, “she stays.”

He turned back to her, circling slowly. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” she lied.

His smile deepened. “You should be.”

Then his voice dropped, low and almost amused. “You’re in my world now, little one. No exit. No safety net. No hero.”

Her breath caught.

“I’ll find Alex,” she said, chest rising fast. “He’s the good guy. He’ll help me.”

At the mention of Alex, Ethan’s jaw clenched. “That boy scout?”

Lara took a step back.

He stepped forward.

“I don’t care how you got here, little reader. But you’re not leaving,” he said softly, almost like a warning. “You belong to the story now.”

His story.

And in his story—the villain always wins.

Lara followed the guards in silence, her bare feet brushing over expensive floors. Every hallway looked like something from a movie—paintings in gold frames, velvet drapes, polished marble. But this wasn’t fiction anymore.

It was her new reality.

And the villain was real, breathing, and watching her every move.

They led her into a massive guest bedroom—larger than her entire apartment. A velvet chaise lounge sat by a tall window, the bed draped in silk sheets that shimmered under chandelier light.

“This is… insane,” she whispered.

“You will stay here,” one guard said stiffly. “The boss said no one touches you.”

She turned quickly. “Wait. Can I see him again? Ethan?”

Both guards looked uncomfortable.

“He gave an order. You’re to stay put.”

The door closed with a soft click.

Lara stood in silence, her heart racing. She had no idea how she got here—or how to get out. She moved toward the window, but all she saw were high walls, security cameras, and a sky painted with stars she didn’t recognize.

This wasn't her world.

She sat on the bed, curling her knees to her chest. “Alex,” she whispered, thinking of the hero. “Where are you?”

A soft knock echoed through the room.

Before she could answer, the door creaked open.

And there he was.

Ethan.

Leaning against the doorframe like he owned the air around him. He wasn’t in the dripping shirt anymore—now he wore a black button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, collar loose, jaw sharp.

His presence made her heart thump.

“You’re not very good at pretending to be calm,” he said, stepping inside.

She jumped off the bed. “I didn’t think you’d come back.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You wanted me to?”

“No,” she said too fast. “I just—wanted answers.”

He stepped closer, eyes never leaving hers. “What kind of answers, little reader?”

“Don’t call me that.”

He smirked. “Would you prefer little thing? Or maybe little one? You do look a bit lost.”

“I’m not a child.”

“No,” he murmured, gaze dropping to her lips for a split second, “you’re not.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

He turned slightly, glancing at the room. “You’re lucky. I don’t usually let strangers into my home. Especially not into this room.”

“Why me?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

Lara crossed her arms, determined not to let him see how rattled she was. “This is your story. You’re the villain. So act like it.”

Ethan’s expression darkened. “Careful, little thing.”

“I just want to find Alex,” she snapped. “He’s the hero. He can help me go back.”

His jaw tightened. He walked slowly toward her, each step deliberate.

“You really think he’ll take you away from me?” His voice dropped. “You landed in my world. In my home. In front of me. That’s not a coincidence.”

She backed into the bedpost.

He leaned in slightly. “Let him try, Lara. Let him try to take what’s mine.”

Lara’s heart pounded in her chest. “I’m not yours.”

He smiled, cold and amused. “Not yet.”

And with that, he turned and walked away—leaving her breathless, confused, and tangled in the villain’s trap.

Lara barely slept.

Her mind replayed Ethan’s words on a loop.

"Let him try to take what’s mine."

"Not yet."

He was playing some twisted game—cold one second, almost possessive the next. And the worst part? She didn’t know what was real.

Morning sunlight spilled through the tall windows. The silk sheets felt soft, luxurious… suffocating.

She sat up and rubbed her face. “I have to get out of here.”

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

“Come in,” she called hesitantly.

A maid stepped in, bowing slightly. “The boss asked me to bring you this.”

She placed a tray on the table—fresh fruit, eggs, coffee, and warm toast. Not poisoned, hopefully.

Lara looked up. “Did he say anything else?”

The maid hesitated. “Only that you should eat. And that you’re not to leave the room without him.”

“Without him?”

“Yes, miss.” A nervous glance. “He said it’s for your safety.”

Lara stared at the closed door after the maid left. A silk cage. Beautiful. Controlled. Escape-proof.

She didn’t eat.

Later, as she paced by the window, a knock came again. This time deeper. Sharper.

The door opened before she could respond.

Ethan entered, black coat draped over one arm, phone in his other hand. He barely glanced at her as he spoke into the device.

“Tell Romano I don’t care if his shipment’s late. If he pulls that stunt again, I’ll send his head back in the box instead.” A pause. “No—don’t apologize for him. Handle it.”

He hung up, slipped the phone into his pocket, and finally looked at her.

“You didn’t eat.”

Lara folded her arms. “I’m not hungry.”

He walked past her and inspected the tray. “Not even the toast. Hm. You’re dramatic.”

“I’m not staying here.”

His tone remained flat. “You don’t have much of a choice, little one.”

“I’m not yours to keep.”

He turned to her then, slowly. “Funny. You arrived without warning. No explanation. And now you want to wander off into my world like some clueless child?”

“I’m not a child.”

He stepped closer. “You act like one.”

She flinched as his shadow fell over her.

He softened his voice, but not his expression. “This place isn’t safe for outsiders. Not even ones who fall from stories.”

“Then let me leave.”

“I already told you.” His jaw flexed. “You don’t belong here—but you’re here. And I don’t like leaving loose threads.”

“Then cut me loose.”

He smiled coldly. “I don’t like waste either.”

She stared at him, heartbeat thudding in her chest. “You want me gone.”

“I do,” he said, but something in his eyes betrayed him. His tone was too careful. Too cold. Like a lie dressed as the truth.

“Then why keep me here?”

Ethan stepped back, like she’d touched something raw.

“I have business,” he said curtly. “Try not to destroy anything while I’m gone, little reader.”

And just like that, he was gone again.

Leaving her in the silence.

Alone—but not free.