Elena pushed open the glass door and stepped inside.

The boardroom was already full, every chair taken by men twice her age, men who thought she didn’t deserve to sit at the same table.

She ignored their stares, just like always. She had fought her way here. She had proved herself more times than she could count. And she wasn’t about to let anyone see her doubt now.

But today… something felt different.

The silence was heavier than usual. The air was thick, almost uneasy.

Her eyes moved across the room—and froze.

A man she didn’t know was standing near the tall window, hands in his pockets, his dark suit sharp against the light spilling in. He wasn’t one of her directors, not an investor either. He didn’t look like he belonged in a boardroom at all.

There was something dangerous about him. The way he stood so calmly, the way his eyes locked onto her the moment she entered, like he’d been waiting just for her.

She frowned. “Who let him in?”

No one spoke. Not a single board member dared to answer. Their silence made her chest tighten.

The stranger smiled—slow, unsettling, the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“So, this is the famous Elena Vora,” he said. His voice was low and smooth, but it carried a weight that made her skin prickle. “The youngest CEO in the city.”

Her pulse jumped, but she kept her face cold.

“And you are?” she asked, sharper than she meant to.

“Lorenzo.”

He said it like it was enough. Like his name alone should make her understand.

Her stomach twisted. She did know that name. Everyone did.

The whispers at parties. The late-night warnings. The man who ran the city from the shadows. The mafia king no one dared to cross.

Lorenzo DeLuca.

And he was here. In her boardroom.

She forced herself to stand taller. “This is a private meeting. You don’t belong here.”

He moved closer, slow and deliberate, each step echoing in the tense silence. The room felt smaller with every inch he stole between them.

“I came to see the woman,” he said, his gaze never leaving hers, “who thinks she can rule a city without bowing to anyone.”

Her jaw clenched. “You’re wasting your time. I don’t bow to anyone.”

Lorenzo’s lips curved again, but his eyes stayed cold.

“Then I’ll enjoy watching you break.”

For a second, Elena couldn’t breathe. His words weren’t shouted, they weren’t even cruel on the surface—but they carried a promise, heavy and real.

Her phone buzzed against the table, loud in the silence.

She glanced down. A message lit up the screen.

He knows your secret.

Her blood ran cold.

Who sent this? What secret? And how much did he already know?

Her gaze shot back up—only to find Lorenzo watching her with the same dark smile, as if he’d written the message himself.

Her fingers tightened around her phone, but she didn’t move. She couldn’t.

Because for the first time in years… Elena felt trapped.

The boardroom slowly emptied, one stiff suit after another hurrying out as if the air had grown too heavy to breathe. Soon, only Elena and the man who had thrown her entire world off balance remained.

Lorenzo!....

He didn’t move, didn’t even pretend to leave. Instead, he leaned lazily against the table, like he had all the time in the world. His dark eyes followed her every step, sharp and unblinking, a gaze so heavy she almost felt it pressing against her skin.

Her phone still buzzed in her hand. That message burned in her mind—

He knows your secret.

Elena’s throat went dry. She locked her screen quickly and slipped the phone into her bag, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

But he smirked. That infuriating, knowing smirk that curved one corner of his lips.

“Is something wrong, Miss Vora?” His voice was smooth, lazy, but his eyes gleamed with dangerous amusement.

“Nothing that concerns you,” she said flatly, keeping her face calm.

Inside, her pulse was racing.

Lorenzo pushed himself off the table and walked toward her. Each step echoed in the silent room, slow, deliberate, almost taunting. He didn’t stop until he was close—too close. She could smell his cologne, sharp and dark, mixing with the faint scent of smoke.

“You hide it well,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly as his gaze scanned her face, “but I see the cracks.”

Elena forced herself not to flinch, not to give him the satisfaction. “You don’t know anything about me.”

That made him chuckle. The sound was deep, low, and dangerous. He leaned in slightly, his lips brushing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Oh, Elena… I know enough. And when I want something…” His eyes dropped briefly to her lips before locking back onto hers, sharp and merciless. “I take it.”

Her jaw clenched. She crossed her arms, a shield for the unease rolling through her. “And what is it you want?”

His smile widened, slow and wicked. The kind of smile that could make a person shiver without realizing it. He didn’t answer. Instead, he let his silence do the talking, his eyes burning into hers until she had to look away.

For a moment, she hated herself for that.

But Lorenzo noticed. He always noticed. His smirk deepened, his gaze glittering with triumph.

“Run if you like,” he whispered, leaning so close his breath tickled her ear. “Hide behind your empire. Behind your power. But remember this—everything you’ve built… everything you protect…” His hand brushed the edge of the table beside her, trapping her in his shadow. “It already belongs to me.”

Elena’s breath caught. She hated the way his words slipped under her skin, hated the way her chest tightened even as her brain screamed to push him back.

She swallowed hard, lifting her chin. “You don’t scare me.”

His laugh was soft, but his eyes—those eyes—were merciless.

“Then you’re lying to yourself.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them felt electric, sharp enough to cut. She couldn’t tell if he would lean closer… or walk away.

And then—movement.

Out of the corner of her eye, through the glass walls of the boardroom, Elena saw a figure. Standing in the shadows of the hallway. Watching her.

Her chest tightened. Another set of eyes. Another presence.

She turned her head quickly, but by the time she looked again, the figure was gone.

Still, the weight of being watched lingered.

Her fingers curled tightly around the strap of her bag as she forced her gaze back to Lorenzo. He was still watching her, his smirk calm, patient, as if he knew exactly what she had seen.

As if he wasn’t the only danger circling her...

Rain poured over the city, turning the streets shiny and slippery. She pulled her coat tighter, hood over her head, and walked fast, trying not to be noticed. Every step was careful. Every glance over her shoulder measured.

Then she saw him. Leaning casually against a lamppost, hands in his pockets, smirk on his lips. His dark eyes locked onto hers immediately. Her heart skipped a beat—not from fear, exactly, but from the pull of something dangerous in him.

You move fast, he said, voice low and teasing....Always running from someone… or just from me?

She forced herself to keep walking, heels splashing through puddles. “I’m not running,” she said, tone calm.

He stepped closer, one hand resting lightly on the wall beside her, narrowing the space. She could feel the heat from him even through the rain. Her pulse quickened, but she didn’t step back.

“Funny,” he murmured, smirk deepening. “Everyone thinks you’re confident. But I can see it—the small hesitations, the careful glances. You’re hiding something.”

She clenched her bag strap, forcing herself to stay calm. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, stepping to the side to keep walking. But he mirrored her, keeping pace, closing the gap without touching her.

“You’re careful. Smart. Strong,” he said, leaning just slightly, enough to feel his presence more than see him. “And yet… there’s something I can’t figure out about you. Something I want to know for myself.”

Her heart thumped. She didn’t move back. She couldn’t. There was a magnetic pull between them, something she couldn’t ignore.

“You think I’m joking?” she asked, voice steady but laced with curiosity.

He smirked, leaning a little closer, tilting his head, eyes dark and piercing. “Not joking,” he said softly. “I notice everything. Every glance, every small movement… every little thing you try to hide. And I like it. Makes things… interesting.”

Her hands clenched on her bag. He doesn’t know anything. He shouldn’t. She forced herself to keep walking, pretending she wasn’t affected.

“You’re obsessed with knowing, aren’t you?” she whispered, more to herself than him.

He smirked wider, stepping slightly closer. “Maybe,” he said, tilting his head. “But don’t act like you don’t like it.”

Her pulse raced faster. She wanted to argue, wanted to push him away, but she stayed frozen, caught in the pull of his gaze. There was something dangerous, commanding, and yet… irresistible.

The rain fell harder, drumming on her coat, on the pavement. The city felt alive around them, but inside, the tension was all-consuming.

He leaned slightly, their shoulders almost touching. “You’re careful, strong… but not invincible,” he whispered. “I want to see what breaks your rules. What makes you slip.”

She swallowed hard but didn’t step back. “You’re testing me?” she asked, voice quiet but teasing.

Maybe..., he said, smirk curling at the corners of his lips.....Or maybe I’m seeing how far you’ll let me go.

Her heart raced. She didn’t run. She didn’t flinch. She was strong—but she could feel the storm building between them.

Finally, she stepped past him, trying to regain control. But his gaze followed every move, heavy and insistent. She could feel his obsession, subtle but undeniable, like he wanted to know everything about her.

The rain continued, falling harder, drumming on the city, the street, her coat, and somehow echoing her heartbeat. And she knew, deep down, that he wouldn’t leave her world. Not now. Not ever.

The storm wasn’t just outside. It was growing between them, slow, dangerous, impossible to ignore...