First impression

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The diner smelled of burnt coffee and cheap perfume. Aria slid a chipped mug across the counter, balancing three plates on her arm as though gravity was optional. She’d been on her feet for six hours straight, but exhaustion never paid rent.

“Order up, table six,” her boss barked from the kitchen.

Aria tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, plastered on the smile she kept for strangers, and moved through the crowd. Nights were always the same—loud laughter, clinking forks, people rushing through meals on their way to something better. Ordinary. Predictable. Safe.

The bell above the door chimed.

Silence followed.

Aria glanced up, frowning when she noticed how quickly the noise died. People hunched over their food, eyes darting toward the entrance but never lingering. Fear had its own weight, and it pressed through the room now.

Three men in dark suits entered first. Then him.

Tall. Sharp features carved like marble. A suit that didn’t belong in a run-down diner. His presence stretched across the room like smoke, curling into corners, suffocating without a word.

Aryan khan

Aria didn’t know his name yet, but she knew the type: untouchable, dangerous, the kind people whispered about and crossed the street to avoid. The way the waitress beside her froze, pale as paper, told her enough.

He slid into a booth at the back, grey eyes sweeping the room. Cold. Uninterested. Except—when she didn’t look away.

For a second, their gazes locked. Hers steady, his unreadable.

Aria blinked first, rolling her eyes at herself. Whoever he was, he wasn’t her problem. Tips were her problem. Tuition. Rent.

She grabbed her notepad and walked over. Her steps were calm, but her pulse betrayed her, hammering harder the closer she got.

When she reached his booth, he didn’t speak. Didn’t even glance at the menu. Just leaned back, one hand resting lazily on the table, watching her like she was already on trial.

Aria raised an eyebrow. “Are you planning to order, or just scare off my customers all night?”

One of his men stiffened, ready to react. But Aryan's mouth is curved—slow, dangerous. Not quite a smile.

Interesting.

That’s your spark. First clash: she’s the only one who doesn’t tremble, and he notices. From here, their story can unfold—her world colliding with his darkness.

The men at his side bristled at her tone, but Damian lifted a hand and they stilled instantly. Power wasn’t loud; it was the kind that didn’t need words.

He tilted his head, eyes never leaving hers.

“What’s your name?”

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Aria brings light.

Aryan brings darkness.

Are you guys excited about the next chapter!?

Well this is the first chapter, so I'll update every Sunday… So we will see together again… I hope you'll love this, and also you can give me some suggestions or ideas if you have… And it's going to be a dark romance story so if you don't like dark romance so just stay away… Take care ♡

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