The Weight of Unanswered Questions..

Eve Lancaster had spent her life avoiding curiosity.

Curiosity led to questions. Questions led to truths that were often dangerous—things buried beneath polished surfaces, hidden in locked rooms, spoken in hushed tones only when it was too late.

Her parents had raised her to be careful. To always watch but never chase, to notice but never pry.

Until now.

Because now, she had seen him.

And now, she wanted to know why Damian Cross had been watching her. Why he had stepped into her world with effortless precision. Why he had saved her only to tease her with warnings instead of answers.

And most of all—why she felt like something inside her had already surrendered before she even knew what she was surrendering to.

The need for answers burned through her, relentless, inescapable.

So she did something she had promised herself she never would.

She started looking.

The Search Begins..

Eve sat at her desk, fingers hovering over her keyboard, the glow of her laptop illuminating the darkened apartment. The city stretched beyond her window, alive with movement and neon flickers, but she barely noticed.

She typed his name.

"Damian Cross."

The search bar blinked. Pages loaded.

But nothing.

No records. No history. No trace of him existing in the way any normal person should.

Her brows furrowed as she refined the search, adding details she had gleaned from their strange, brief interactions. His voice, his presence, his ability to know things she hadn’t spoken aloud.

Still—nothing.

It was like he had been erased.

As if he had never belonged to the world at all.

Her stomach twisted, unease crawling up her spine. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but she had thought something would appear.

She knew men like him existed—silent forces operating beneath the surface, manipulating, controlling, slipping through cracks unseen until it was too late.

But this?

This was something else.

Because if Damian Cross had erased his own existence, then that meant he had something to hide.

And that terrified her more than anything.

The Second Encounter: The Warning Comes Too Late..

Two nights later, the unease still hadn’t left her.

Eve walked home from work, steps careful, breath steady, pretending she wasn’t unsettled. That she wasn’t still thinking about him.

She had spent the last forty-eight hours convincing herself that she had imagined it—the pull, the danger, the way his voice had curled around her like smoke.

And then—

She felt it.

The weight of him pressing into her world before she even saw his face.

A presence thick enough to suffocate.

She slowed her steps, muscles tensing, pulse quickening as she fought the instinct to turn and run.

But before she could react, a voice curled through the cold air—low, rich, threaded with dark amusement.

“You shouldn’t have looked me up.”

The breath left her lungs.

She knew.

She knew that Damian had been watching, but hearing it confirmed shattered something inside her.

She turned—slowly, cautiously—and found him leaning against the frame of a doorway, dressed in all black, the glow of distant neon signs painting sharp angles against his face.

His smirk was slow, calculated.

“You—”

He pushed off the wall with effortless confidence, stepping forward. His movements were too smooth, too controlled, as if he already knew how this night would end.

Eve’s throat tightened. She wasn’t sure if she was breathing properly.

Damian stopped just short of touching her, studying her in that way that felt more like possession than curiosity.

“Curious little things tend to break.”

His voice sent chills down her spine.

It wasn’t a threat.

It was a promise.

The Descent Begins..

Eve knew she should run.

She knew.

But for some reason, the weight of his presence pinned her in place, locking her legs in place, silencing her voice even as every instinct screamed at her to escape.

Damian tilted his head slightly, watching her, amusement flickering through his expression.

“You’re smarter than this,” he murmured, voice teasing.

Her breath hitched.

“But not smart enough.”

Eve swallowed hard, forcing herself to stand straighter, forcing herself not to reveal the way fear curled inside her chest like an uncoiled thread.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” she said slowly, voice steadier than she felt.

Damian stepped forward.

Not fast. Not aggressively.

Just enough that she could feel his heat, his presence, him pressing against her senses.

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

His fingers brushed against her wrist—just barely, just for half a second—and it felt like fire licking across her skin.

Eve sucked in a sharp breath, pulse hammering against her ribs.

She had expected danger.

She hadn’t expected the desperation.

Because now, standing before him, trapped beneath his gaze, she realized the most terrifying thing of all.

She wasn’t scared of him.

She was scared of herself.

Because something inside her wanted to know how much further she could fall.

~TO BE CONTINUED....