A Story She Couldn't Escape

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.

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