His Mistress,His Secret

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

Adrian's eyes locked on mine, steady and unblinking, and the night seemed to fold in around us. The cold that had been biting at my skin only seconds ago vanished. My body burned under that gaze-the same way it had years ago, when he could undo me with nothing more than a look.

"Elena," he said, my name rolling off his tongue in that low, deliberate way that made me want to turn and run.

I forced myself to take a step back, clutching my bag against my chest like it could shield me. My back hit the brick wall, rough and damp with condensation, grounding me in a reality I desperately wanted to escape.

"Stay away from me."

His lips curved, but it wasn't a smile. It was darker, edged with something dangerous, the kind of expression that told you he already owned the ground you were standing on.

"You still walk home alone at night?" he murmured. "Haven't learned a damn thing, have you?"

I hated the way his voice sounded. Deep. Smooth. Threaded with power, like each syllable was carefully measured to leave an impression. I hated that it had been enough to make three grown men scatter without a fight. Hated, most of all, that some small, traitorous part of me felt safer with him standing there.

"I didn't ask you to interfere," I snapped, trying to steady my voice, to keep it from shaking.

He stepped forward. Just one step, but it was enough. The space between us shrank, and suddenly I was pressed between the unforgiving wall and the weight of his presence.

"You never had to ask," he murmured.

And just like that, the years melted away.

Memories I had buried clawed their way back to the surface: his hand covering mine, strong and warm; his lips at my ear, whispering promises I was naïve enough to believe; his body pressed against mine the night everything shattered. My chest tightened, and I shoved those images down, clenching my fists so hard my nails bit into my palms.

"Leave, Adrian." My voice broke on his name, that familiar poison still bitter on my tongue. "Whatever this is, I don't want it. Not from you."

His gaze swept over me, slow and deliberate. It wasn't lustful, not exactly. It was calculating like I was a puzzle he intended to solve, no matter how many pieces I tried to hide.

"You're thinner," he said finally. "Tired. You look like you're carrying the weight of the world."

The words cut deeper than they should have. My heart lurched, furious with itself for remembering that once, long ago, he could read me like no one else.

"I said it's none of your business."

The corner of his mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, not quite a threat. "Everything about you is my business."

That old fire was still there, the arrogance, the control, the consuming intensity that had once scorched me so badly I swore I'd never let it near me again. I should have been immune by now, hardened by distance and betrayal. But my pulse betrayed me, racing so loud I was sure he could hear it.

I shoved away from the wall and tried to push past him, desperate to put space between us. But his hand shot out, catching my wrist.

Not rough. Not painful. Just firm enough to remind me who he was.

"I'll take you home," Adrian said.

"No." The word was sharper than I expected, sharper than I felt.

His grip loosened, but he didn't let go. His thumb brushed my skin-an accident, maybe, but it sent sparks racing up my arm.

"It's not safe," he said.

I met his eyes, forcing myself not to flinch. "It's never safe with you."

Something flickered there, quick and almost human, like the shadow of the boy I once loved. But it vanished as soon as it appeared, replaced by the cold, unyielding man standing before me.

He released me at last, though his presence didn't fade. If anything, it seemed to expand, filling every inch of space around me.

"Be careful, Elena," he said quietly. His voice carried that dangerous softness that was worse than anger. "This city isn't kind to women who walk alone at night."

Then he turned. His silhouette swallowed the alley's darkness, his stride steady, commanding, until he disappeared into the street.

I stood frozen, my chest heaving, my body trembling. My wrist still tingled where he had touched me.

I hated him. God, I hated him. Hated the way he still had that power over me. Hated the way my body reacted without permission, the way my heart stumbled like it had been waiting for him all this time.

And yet, as I pulled my coat tighter and hurried home, one truth pulsed louder than my own heartbeat.

If Adrian Moretti had found me tonight... it wouldn't be the last time.