CHAPTER ONE: Bitter Black and Sweet Encounters

The café buzzed with espresso scents and chatter. Selene Torres was lost in her laptop, iced mocha forgotten and melting, much like her week.
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Selene Torres
Selene Torres
(typing) Almost done with this report... just a few more lines.
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Suddenly, a tall man in a black coat stepped inside, sharp and tense like a storm in spring.
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Lucien Moreau
Lucien Moreau
(thinking) Coffee shops... loud, messy, unpredictable. But today, I need caffeine.
He joined the line, regret already settling in.
[Sound effect: Cup scraping]
Selene Torres
Selene Torres
Oops! Sorry!
She bumped into him. Her elbow brushed his hand.
Lucien Moreau
Lucien Moreau
(voice tight) You touched me.
Selene Torres
Selene Torres
(raising an eyebrow) Uh... you’re welcome?
Lucien Moreau
Lucien Moreau
(avoiding eye contact) ...
Selene Torres
Selene Torres
(smirking) You gonna sue me or something?
He turned to leave, but her laugh—light, careless—lingered longer than it should have.
Lucien Moreau
Lucien Moreau
(thinking) Why does her laugh stay with me?
Lucien stepped outside, the café door closing behind him with a soft chime. The air was colder than before—but his palm still tingled.
Lucien Moreau
Lucien Moreau
(thinking) No gloves. No irritation. Just... warmth?
He paused on the sidewalk, frowning. In his world, nothing ever touched him without consequence. People, emotions, chaos—he kept them all at arm’s length.
Lucien Moreau
Lucien Moreau
(low voice) Get it together, Moreau.
Behind him, Selene returned to her laptop, half amused, half confused.
Selene Torres
Selene Torres
(typing, whispering) Weirdest encounter ever.
Selene Torres
Selene Torres
[Selene's thoughts] Who walks into a coffee shop dressed like a mafia villain and gets offended over elbows?
Still, something about his eyes—storm-grey and haunted—stuck in her mind longer than her overdue deadlines.
Selene Torres
Selene Torres
(smile) But… he's handsome..
[Sound effect: Phone buzzes]
Selene Torres
Selene Torres
(sighs) Ugh. Another email.
As she scrolled, her gaze drifted to the door he’d disappeared through. And just for a second—only a second—she wished she’d asked for his name.
Lucien Moreau
Lucien Moreau
(in his car, staring at the rearview mirror) Who is she?
He didn’t know her name yet. But he would. And once Lucien Moreau wanted something… He always found a way.

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