MIRA POV
If anxiety had a flavor, tonight it tasted like champagne — sweet, glittering, and way too fizzy to swallow without choking.
The party was loud enough to swallow thoughts whole. Crystal clinking. Laughter from people with perfectly curated lives. The hum of money. The smell of success sprayed into the air like perfume.
And in the middle of it, me — Mira Ross — smiling like I wasn't secretly plotting my own escape route.
Dad had warned me earlier in the week that Damion King would be attending tonight. The notorious CEO of KingCorp. Billionaire, recluse, predatory businessman with cheekbones sharp enough to cut a diamond… and a stare that never looked human in interviews.
Cold.
Too still.
Too watchful.
Every time he appeared on TV, something inside me would freeze — something ancient and instinctive — like I shouldn't be looking at him directly.
I'd dismissed it, of course. Chalked it up to media dramatization. People loved turning eccentric CEOs into folklore.
But still…
Standing in this ballroom, surrounded by gold chandeliers and a thousand strangers, my nerves kept tugging at me.
Something's wrong.
Something's off.
I brushed the thought away. I had enough problems without adding a billionaire stranger to the list. Like my mother forcing me to greet guests with a smile even though I wanted to crawl under a table and sleep. Or the press waiting outside. Or—
My phone vibrated in my purse.
I stopped breathing.
Unknown number.
My stomach plummeted.
Him.
After months of silence.
I opened the message with shaky fingers.
"You look beautiful tonight. Even the lights envy you."
My chest tightened.
Not again.
Not tonight.
I swallowed hard and shoved the phone away. I refused to give him room in my head now. Not when I was barely keeping myself together.
"Mira!" Kia called from behind me. "Dad's looking for you. Something about greeting the Kings."
The Kings.
My pulse stuttered.
Not yet.
God, not yet.
But I straightened my dress, took a breath, and walked toward the main entryway — because that's what Rosses did. We dressed nicely, smiled politely, and pretended not to be falling apart.
DAMION
Humans never realized how loud they were.
Every emotion poured off them like heat. Every thought etched itself in their heartbeat. Every hidden desire scented the air in ways no perfume could cover.
And tonight, this ballroom was a hurricane of chaos.
Yet none of it mattered — because she was here.
Mira Ross.
The girl whose name had rooted itself into my mind for years.
The girl I'd watched grow from afar, too young then, too fragile.
The girl with a soul that burned so brightly I felt it from miles away.
I saw her before she saw me.
Of course I did.
Her aura hit me first — warm, determined, restless.
Her heartbeat was a delicate melody, fluttering with stress she hid behind practiced grace.
She wore a deep, midnight-blue dress that clung to her like the night sky had molded itself around her body. And her eyes — God, her eyes — they scanned the room as if she felt something watching her.
Good.
She should.
Magnus materialized beside me, scent sharp with amusement.
"She's exquisite," he murmured, voice low. "And she hasn't even looked this way yet. When are you introducing us?"
"No."
His eyebrows rose. "No? Brother, don't be greedy."
Greedy.
If only he knew how deep the hunger went.
How long it had festered.
How hard I'd worked to keep distance.
"She's not your concern," I said quietly.
He smirked, the younger sibling in him ever defiant. "Everything in this room is my concern. And she—"
"Is mine."
The words slipped out sharper than intended.
Magnus blinked. "Ah. So that's what this is. You're not just interested."
I didn't respond.
I didn't need to.
Because Mira Ross had just turned her head — her gaze slicing through the glittering chaos of the room —
And for the first time, her eyes met mine.
A quiet, perfect collision.
MIRA
The entrance doors opened with a soft hiss.
I didn't expect to freeze.
Not like this.
Not so suddenly it felt like my soul stuttered.
Damion King walked in like the world parted for him.
Tall. Dark suit. Presence wrapped around him like shadows had chosen him as their favorite child. His steps were measured, unnervingly smooth — not cocky, not rushed, simply absolute. Like he belonged everywhere and nowhere at once.
His eyes lifted — icy silver, sharp enough to still the air — and collided with mine.
Oh.
Oh.
Something inside me jolted hard enough to steal breath.
It wasn't attraction.
It wasn't fear.
It was… recognition.
But that made no sense.
I'd never met him.
His stare didn't break. Didn't soften. Didn't even blink. It pinned me in place, slow and deliberate, like he was studying the space behind my ribs.
I took a step back without meaning to.
And then — just as abruptly — he looked away.
The spell shattered.
"What was that?" I whispered to myself.
Kia nudged me. "Come on. Dad wants us by the entrance."
I forced my legs to work, following him even though my limbs felt like water.
I couldn't shake the feeling.
Something about him was wrong.
Not ordinary-wrong.
Wrong in a way that crawled under the skin.
But I swallowed the unease. Hard.
Dad expected perfect behavior tonight.
So I gave him the perfect daughter.
DAMION
I should have looked away sooner.
That was the first mistake.
Her eyes were too curious, too open. That openness could be dangerous.
A girl like Mira shouldn't stare at things that stare back.
Magnus elbowed me lightly. "You're staring, brother."
"I'm assessing," I corrected.
"Assessing," he echoed with a grin, "is what you call it."
I ignored him.
Because Mira's heartbeat — fast, unsteady — told me enough. She felt something. She didn't understand it, but she felt it.
Instinct.
The first layer of truth.
And humans always trusted instinct before logic.
Her father walked toward us, hand extended. "Mr. King. Welcome."
I shook it, careful to measure my strength. "Thank you for inviting me."
"And this is my daughter—"
Not yet.
He was about to call her forward.
I shifted slightly, enough that he paused.
"I look forward to speaking with her," I said smoothly. "But please—allow her to enjoy greeting the other guests first. I know how exhausting these events can be."
He blinked, surprised by the courtesy.
Magnus's confusion radiated beside me. Why delay? Why wait?
Because I needed to see Mira on her own terms.
See her move, speak, react.
See if the years had changed the spark or if it still lived in her.
And because if I touched her hand now, in this crowded room, with every instinct roaring—
I wasn't sure I would let go.
MIRA
Two hours.
Two hours of smiling at strangers, answering questions about the Ross empire, accepting compliments I didn't care about, pretending the world wasn't suffocating me with gold-plated expectations.
And every few minutes, involuntarily, I'd glance toward the far corner where Damion King stood.
Always with a drink he barely touched.
Always perfectly still.
Always watching everything without seeming to look at anything.
Except I kept catching his eyes flicking toward me.
Not long enough to be rude.
Just long enough to send a cold shiver down my spine.
I was overreacting.
I had to be.
Jake would laugh and tell me I needed sleep.
My phone buzzed again.
I froze.
"You shouldn't look at him like that. He doesn't deserve your eyes."
My hands trembled.
This wasn't funny anymore.
I looked around the ballroom. Hundreds of faces. People talking, laughing, sipping champagne. No one looking at me long enough to seem suspicious.
My chest tightened.
I slipped away from the crowd, weaving through people until I reached the balcony doors.
Cool night air hit my face.
Relief washed through me.
I leaned against the railing, breathing slowly.
"Get it together, Mira."
The city lights sparkled below, cold and distant.
Just five minutes of peace.
Just five—
The glass door slid open behind me.
I didn't turn immediately.
Something cold, electric, familiar brushed the edge of my awareness.
A voice — low, smooth, velvet-laced darkness — spoke behind me.
"You shouldn't be alone out here."
I turned.
Damion King stepped onto the balcony.
My breath caught.
Not because he was beautiful — though he was terrifyingly, ruinously so — but because being near him felt like stepping too close to a thunderstorm.
Unpredictable.
Powerful.
Alive in a way that wasn't… human.
"I'm fine," I said, putting steel in my voice. "Just needed air."
His gaze dipped to my trembling hands.
"Someone has unsettled you."
Not a question.
A statement.
I swallowed. "Long night."
He took one step closer — not invading my space, but close enough that his presence pressed against my senses like a dark, warm tide.
"Your heart is racing," he murmured.
My pulse tripped.
"You can hear that?"
His lips twitched. "You're standing close to metal railings. Vibrations travel."
A lie.
Maybe.
He was too calm. Too observant.
Too something.
I looked away, gripping the railing harder.
"Why are you out here?" I asked.
"Because you are."
The words slid into the air like silk.
Slow.
Intentional.
Dangerous.
My breath stuttered.
"Mr. King—"
"Damion," he corrected softly.
The way he said it made my name feel like it belonged in his mouth.
"And you… Mira." The syllables tasted reverent. "Your father speaks highly of you."
"My father speaks highly of anyone who doesn't cause him problems."
He smiled — barely. A ghost of expression. But it softened his face, just for a moment.
"You don't seem like a problem at all."
"You don't know me."
"Not yet."
Those two words sent heat shooting up my spine.
Confusing.
Unwanted.
Magnetic.
I shouldn't be standing here.
Not alone with him.
Not while my phone held messages from someone who clearly followed me closely.
I stepped back toward the door.
"I should get inside."
He didn't move to stop me.
But his voice followed, quiet as a touch.
"Be careful tonight, Mira."
I turned.
"Why?"
His silver eyes glinted like moonlight on a blade.
"Because someone is watching you."
My heart slammed.
"Who?" I whispered.
He didn't answer.
He just looked at me — long, searching — as if he could see straight through every wall I'd ever built.
Then he stepped back into the shadows of the balcony, swallowed by the dark like he'd been born from it.
DAMION
I hadn't meant to say that.
It had slipped out, instinct overriding caution.
The moment Mira walked away, the air tasted wrong again — sharp with threat. The scent of the intruder lingered. Someone else had been near her earlier. Someone too bold.
The stalker's presence scratched faintly across the edges of my senses.
He was close.
Closer than she knew.
Magnus appeared beside me, leaning on the railing. "So?" he asked lightly. "Did you speak to her?"
"Yes."
"And?"
I didn't answer.
Because Mira's fear tasted real now.
And anyone who touched what was mine…
They wouldn't live long.
MIRA
I didn't sleep that night.
Not after the messages.
Not after Damion's warning.
Not after the way his eyes had lingered on me like he knew something he shouldn't.
And not after the final text that arrived at 3 a.m.
"You shouldn't be alone with him. He'll ruin you."
"I won't let him."
"You're mine."
My blood went cold.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking.
I curled up on my bed, phone clutched tightly, trying to breathe.
Because for the first time…
I wasn't sure if the stalker was the one I needed to fear.
Or if the man on that balcony —
with silver eyes
and a voice like night
and a presence that pulled at me —
was far, far worse.
The truth hovered at the edges of my mind, soft and terrifying.
Something is coming.
Something dark.
Something inevitable.
And it has my name on its tongue.