Author's Preface
Rose's Pov
“...What the hell are you doing to me?”
The unfamiliar voice echoed through the pitch-black void of my mind. It was deep, raw, and utterly intoxicating, laced with a desperate frustration that made my chest tighten with a strange, heavy ache.
“I’ve spent five fucking years avoiding you...” The words rasped, vibrating straight through my skin. “But my eyes still search for you. Tell me... what are you doing to me?”
Suddenly, a pair of sharp, predatory eyes stared directly into mine through the shadows. For a breathless, terrifying split second, they didn’t look human. They glowed a fierce, warning blood-red.
I gasped, sitting upright in bed as my eyelids flew open. “Haa...”
Bright morning sunlight poured through the gaps in the curtains, warming the sheets. I blinked rapidly, trying to shake the vivid remnants of the dream before rubbing my pounding temple. A vicious throb pulsed behind my eyes, making the whole room tilt slightly.
“Fuck...” I groaned, falling back onto the pillows and pulling the heavy blanket over my face to block out the light. “I am never, ever drinking like that again.”
I buried my face deeper into the fabric, praying the hangover would magically disappear. It didn’t. Instead, as the physical pain throbbed rhythmically against my skull, fractured, chaotic fragments of the previous night began flashing wildly through my mind.
Lily had practically dragged me to the cruise party on that luxury yacht. There had been loud, vibrating bass music, flashing strobe lights, and entirely too many sweaty bodies pressed together on the deck. Someone had handed me a sweet, colorful cocktail. Then another. And then another.
“Such a bad idea,” I mumbled to the empty room, my throat feeling like sandpaper.
I distinctly remembered laughing until my stomach hurt, dancing wildly with Lily, and taking ridiculous, blurry selfies on the deck. After that, everything dissolved into a hazy, chaotic fog. I frowned, squeezing my eyes shut to force the memories to surface. Think, Rose. Think.
I had left the grand ballroom alone because I needed the restroom. On the way down the narrow, polished corridor, the yacht had swayed, or maybe the alcohol had finally taken the wheel. I had collided hard with someone. It was a solid, muscular chest, like crashing straight into a brick wall. I completely lost my balance, my heels slipping on the floor, but before I could hit the deck, strong, possessive hands locked around my waist, pulling me flush against a broad frame.
I couldn’t remember his face. I couldn’t even remember what he was wearing, though my mind faintly registered a crisp white shirt with rolled-up sleeves. The only thing crystal clear was his voice.
“You’re drunk.”
A strange, electric warmth spread through my chest just thinking about it. Why did that dangerous, low voice sound so deeply familiar? I closed my eyes again, forcing myself deeper into the fog. Another memory surfaced, sharper this time. He had been standing incredibly close to me, trapping me flat against the polished wooden wall of a cabin. I could still feel the phantom sensation of his breath brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck.
“What are you doing to me?”
My eyebrows knitted together in utter confusion. “What...?” I whispered aloud to the quiet room.
Why on earth would a stranger say something like that to me? Had I done something incredibly embarrassing while wasted? Did I accidentally offend a guest on that yacht? No... there was more. The fragments kept twisting.
“I’ve spent five years avoiding you... I don’t even know you...”
Five years? I slowly sat up, letting the blanket slip down my chest. Who the hell was he talking about? Me? That didn’t make a single shred of sense. I didn’t know anyone who had been actively avoiding me for five years. I was just a fresher scientist, focusing entirely on my career.
I sighed heavily, running my fingers through my tangled violet hair. This was exactly why people shouldn’t drink. The memories felt like jagged pieces of a puzzle, scattered, incomplete, and frustratingly out of reach. No matter how hard I pushed my brain, I couldn’t conjure his face. Only that voice remained, haunting me. It was deep, commanding, yet laced with a profound, lonely ache.
For some inexplicable reason, just remembering the cadence of it made my heart physically hurt. I pressed my palm flat against my chest, feeling the rapid rhythm of my heartbeat against my ribs. “Why do I feel like I’ve heard him before...?”
A sharp, aggressive knock on my bedroom door violently shattered my thoughts.
“Rose!” Lily’s cheerful, entirely too-loud voice echoed from the hallway. “Are you alive in there? Or did the hangover finally finish you off?”
Despite the pounding in my skull, a small laugh escaped my lips. “I’m alive...” I called back, my voice raspy and dry. “Barely.”
“Good! Because I have a million questions about last night!”
My smile slowly faded as the gravity of the missing hours hit me. “So do I...”
I pushed the heavy duvet aside, swung my legs out of bed, and walked toward the large window. The cool morning breeze brushed against my flushed face as I pulled the heavy curtains completely open, exposing the sunlight.
My eyes instinctively drifted to the ultra-modern, luxurious estate right next door. And there he was.
Dante Valerius.
He was standing on his private balcony, holding a black mug of coffee in one hand. He was dressed casually in a simple black designer shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, paired with dark jeans. The soft morning sunlight illuminated his sharp, aristocratic features, making the cold, untouchable billionaire look almost... normal. Almost.
As if sensing the absolute weight of my gaze, Dante slowly lifted his head.
Our eyes locked across the wide distance of our manicured lawns.
Time completely stopped. The air in my lungs froze as a violent, magnetic shockwave rippled straight through my chest. Those eyes... they were a piercing, brilliant emerald green.
But in that exact millisecond, the final, terrifying fragments from last night exploded in my mind.
“You’re drunk.”
“Tell me... what the hell are you doing to me?”
It was the exact same calm, dangerous voice. It was the exact same heavy, suffocatingly intense gaze that had pinned me to the wall in the dark.
My heart completely skipped a beat, pounding fiercely against my ribs. No way. No fucking way. Was it... him?
Dante’s expression remained entirely unreadable, a perfect mask of corporate indifference. He simply stared at me for a long, quiet moment, his emerald eyes boring into my soul, before calmly taking another slow sip of his coffee. There wasn’t a single hint of recognition on his face. It was as if last night had never happened, as if he hadn’t held my waist or watched my control crumble.
“...Dante...” I whispered his name against the glass, the sound completely involuntary.
Could my reclusive, powerful billionaire neighbor really have been the man hiding in that yacht cabin? But why would someone of his stature be at a cruise party? And if it really was him... why couldn’t I remember how the night ended?
Before I could spiral any further into the mystery, Dante casually turned away, stepping back into the shadows of his mansion. The heavy glass balcony door slid shut behind him, cutting off my view.
He left me standing there, completely alone in the morning sun, with a head full of dangerous questions. I leaned forward, resting my burning forehead against the cool, soothing glass of the window pane.
“Who the hell are you really, Dante Valerius?”