I woke up soaked again.
Even after cleaning myself up in the middle of the night, it still happened. My skin was damp, my sheets a mess. It didn't make sense.
I told myself it was nothing. That it would eventually go away. That maybe it was just stress or… something else.
But deep down, I knew better.
This wasn't ending.
It was just the beginning.
I got up, pushed the thoughts aside, showered again, and got dressed for work.
My restaurant was popular for drawing a high-end crowd, wealthy people, influencers, and socialites, but nothing prepared me for what I saw that morning.
As I pulled into the back lot, I noticed a huge crowd gathered in front of my building. People were talking, taking pictures. It was louder than usual. Busier. My chest tightened.
Why are there so many people out front? Something wasn't right.
I parked quickly and went in through the staff entrance. The moment I stepped inside, one of my waiters rushed over.
"What's going on out there?" I asked, concern lacing my voice.
He looked nervous. "Sir, just… look over there."
I stepped toward the serving window, glanced out… and froze in place.
Evric Draeven.
Sitting calmly at one of the corner tables. Alone. Dressed in black. Like the last time I saw him.
My heart started racing.
I ducked behind the wall quickly before he saw me. What is he doing here? How did he even find this place?
I turned to my staff again, lowering my voice. "Why is his table still empty? Didn't anyone serve him yet? Is he... waiting for his order?"
"No," one of them said. "He told us he won't order anything until you arrive. His exact words were, "I'll place my order when your boss is here."
My throat tensed.
Does he know I own the restaurant?
Panic kicked in fast. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm. "Tell him I won't be coming today. Just say I called to inform you I won't be able to make it in."
I didn't wait for a reply. I turned and rushed down the hallway toward the restroom. I just needed a moment. Just one moment to breathe and figure out what to do.
I locked the door behind me and leaned against it, heart pounding. Why now? Why is he here?
I gripped the edge of the sink and stared at myself in the mirror. My hands were trembling.
I barely had time to calm down before I heard a knock.
A firm, single knock.
Probably a customer, I told myself.
I opened the door without thinking.
But it wasn't a customer.
It was him.
Evric stood in the doorway, eyes on me like he had been waiting this entire time. My chest squeezed. My instincts screamed at me to close the door again, but it was too late. He stepped inside.
I took a sharp breath and tried to act normal. "Excuse me," I said, moving as if I needed to leave. "I was just..."
He shut the door behind him and locked it.
"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice rising slightly. "This is my space. You can't just lock yourself in here with me."
He didn't say a word.
"Open the door," I continued, trying to stay calm.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"You're the worst actor I've ever seen."
I blinked. "What?"
"You're pretending you don't know me. But your hands are shaking. Your voice is unsteady. Have you even looked in the mirror?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, trying to keep my voice firm, but it cracked at the end.
I moved to pass him, to escape, to breathe, but he said something that stopped me cold.
And then… his voice changed.
"I won't touch you," he said.
The second those words left his mouth, I gasped, my hands flying to my ears like I could block the sound out.
"Stop," I whispered. "Please. Don't say that again. I don't want to hear it."
"Do you remember me now?" he asked calmly.
"I do," I admitted, trembling.
He didn't move. He just looked at me, unreadable.
"If you ever show up late to work again," he said quietly, "I'll come fetch you from your house."
He turned, unlocked the door, and walked away like nothing had happened.
I stood there, frozen, my mind spinning. What just happened?
I leaned against the sink again, trying to catch my breath.
"I didn't even get to ask what he came for," I whispered to myself.
Then I laughed quietly, bitterly. "Come to my house? He doesn't even know where I live…"
But even as I said the words, I knew deep down, he probably did know.
After he left, most of the crowd that had gathered outside my restaurant followed him out like he was some kind of celebrity, which, let's be honest, he was.
The space finally felt calmer, but a few customers stayed behind. Business kept moving, though I was barely present.
Later, I wrapped up work for the day, exhausted and rattled, when my friend Dean called and invited me to check out a new bar that had just opened nearby. I figured I could use a drink. Something to take the edge off.
We drank, laughed, and talked about life like nothing was wrong. But deep down, I couldn't stop thinking about him. His voice. His eyes. The way he looked at me was like he knew all my secrets.
Then a stupid idea hit me.
Maybe if I slept with a girl tonight, I'd feel normal again.
I found one. She was cute, flirty, and easy to talk to. I told her I'd take her home. Dean and I said our goodbyes, and I started walking to my car with the girl beside me. I was tipsy, not fully drunk, just numb enough to go through the motions.
But before we could even open the door to my car, a woman stormed up to me from nowhere.
"You liar!" she shouted. "You told me you loved me. You said you'd take responsibility!"
I blinked, stunned. "What…?"
"You got me pregnant, and now you're here with another girl? You're disgusting!"
I just stood there, completely frozen. "I don't know you," I said, confused, but she kept yelling.
The girl I was with glanced at me in disgust and pulled her arm away. "You're gross," she spat before walking off.
And just like that, both women were gone. I stood by my car, stunned. What the hell just happened?
Then… a sleek, expensive car rolled up right in front of mine.
My stomach dropped.
Evric.
I panicked. Before he could get out, I grabbed my door handle, ready to flee.
But he stepped out and said calmly, "It's better if you don't."
I froze. My hand slid off the car door.
"What do you want now?" I asked, already too tired for another mind game.
"I want to be close to you," he said. "Maybe even a friend."
I laughed bitterly. "I don't need a friend like you."
He tilted his head. "Then should we just get a room?"
My heart jumped.
I stared at him, searching his face. Why does he always sound like he's not asking… but commanding?
I clenched my jaw. "Stop coming to me."
I opened my car door again, and this time, I drove off without looking back.
But no matter how far I go…
The more I see him, the more unhinged I become.
I've put myself in something I can't name, and now I don't even know how to get out.
I drove home, trying to steady my thoughts, but they were all over the place.
Halfway there, I turned on the radio, just for noise, just to feel normal again, and there it was.
Rogan Draeven's voice.
Calm, proud, and polished.
He was on a live interview, talking about his son like he was the second coming of perfection.
"Evric has always been a pure soul," he said. "Disciplined. Raised with values. He is everything I hoped he would become."
I couldn't help but chuckle bitterly. "I wish you knew your son that well," I muttered to myself.
Pure? Far from it.
Your son is... something else entirely.
As soon as I parked and stepped into my house, my phone buzzed.
Hi. Did you get home safe?
I froze.
Who is this?
Evric.
What?
How did you get my number?
A second passed. Then came his reply:
I thought I should remind you. Your life is mine now. Everything about you... I already know.
My phone nearly slipped from my hand as I dropped down onto the couch.
My heart thundered. My stomach twisted.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
And then, he called.
I stared at the screen, unsure. I didn't want more problems… but I answered anyway.
His voice slid through the speaker, low and smooth.
"You just got home. Still fully clothed, right?"
I swallowed. "Yeah."
Silence.
Then...
"Why not start by unbuttoning your shirt?"
"No..." I whispered, my body already reacting, trembling.
Not again.
That voice.
That damn voice was about to claim me all over again.