The next day moved with a blurring, frantic speed that Ruby found exhausting. Between the university and the heavy atmosphere of the estate, she felt as though she were being pulled in a dozen different directions.
The morning at the university was a chaotic mess of final critiques and frantic adjustments.
In the design studio, the air was thick with the smell of steam and the frantic chatter of students who were realizing their graduation projects were only months away.
Ruby sat at her workspace, her hands moving through the motions of pinning a sleeve, but her mind was miles away.
She wasn't looking for the man from the night before – she had told herself that repeatedly – but the memory of him was like a low-frequency hum in the back of her head.
Every time the studio door opened, she found herself glancing up, half-expecting to see a tall, dark silhouette, even though she knew how ridiculous that was. He didn't belong in a brightly lit room full of sewing machines and fashion sketches. He belonged to the night…. probably.
Her graduation was looming, and the pressure of her future was starting to feel like a physical weight.
For a long time now, she had been quietly planning her exit. She had a folder on her laptop filled with small, discreet apartments in the city's more neutral districts, places where the walls weren't reinforced and the windows didn't have cameras pointed at them.
She hadn't told her father yet. Marcus Mariposa viewed his family as a unit under his command, and the idea of his daughter living in a walk-up apartment in the city was something he would likely view as a security breach.
She had decided that the gala next week would be the final time she played the part of the perfect, dutiful daughter.
After that, she would make her stand. She needed her own space, her own air, and a life that didn't feel like a choreographed performance.
"Still avoiding the real world, Ruby?"
The voice was loud and carried a polished, arrogant edge. Ruby didn't need to look up to know it was Julian Vane.
Julian was the son of one of her father's closest business associates in the defense sector. He was a rich, spoilt heir who viewed the university as a social club rather than a place of learning.
He was handsome in a conventional, boring way, with perfectly styled hair and a smile that never quite reached his eyes.
"I'm working, Julian," Ruby said, her voice flat as she reached for a box of pins.
"Working on what? Another dress you'll never wear?" Julian leaned against her table, his shadow falling over her fabric.
"You're a Mariposa. You don't need a career. You just need to show up to the gala next week and look like the princess everyone expects you to be. My father said your dad is expecting a big turnout. I assume I'll be seeing you there?"
Ruby finally looked up, her expression one of utter boredom. "I'll be there because I have to be, Julian. Not because I'm looking forward to hearing you talk about your new yacht for three hours."
Julian's grin faltered, his ego taking a visible hit, but he didn't leave. "You're always so sharp, Ruby. It's a bit much for a Tuesday morning. I'll see you at the country club later? My parents are hosting a little pre-event mixer."
"I have a measurement to get to," she lied, though it was a convenient excuse. "And then I have to study. Enjoy your mixer."
She turned back to her work, pointedly ignoring him until he finally huffed and walked away. Maya, her only real friend in the department, slid over to her table the second Julian was out of earshot.
"God, he is so painful," Maya whispered. "How do you not just stab him with a seam ripper?"
"Because then I'd have to deal with his father's lawyers," Ruby sighed. "He's just a symptom of the life I'm trying to get away from, Maya."
"You're really going to do it? Move out?"
Ruby looked at her sketches, seeing the jagged, restless lines she had drawn earlier.
"I have to. If I don't move out after graduation, I'm never going to leave. I'll just be a decorative piece in my father's house until he decides which 'strategic partner' I should marry."
The return to the estate in the afternoon was just as stifling as she expected. The designer her father had hired was already there, a confident man with a measuring tape draped around his neck like a noose.
Her mother, Elena, was standing by the window, looking at fabric swatches with a distracted, weary expression.
Ruby stood on the small pedestal in the drawing room while the designer worked. The tape measure snaked around her waist, her shoulders, and her bust.
They talked about her as if she weren't in the room, discussing "modesty" and "elegance" and the specific shade of blue that would best represent the Mariposa name.
"The Director wants a statement of grace," the designer murmured, pinning a piece of silk to her shoulder.
Ruby felt like a doll being prepped for a shelf. The more they tucked and pinned, the more she felt the urge to run.
By the time they were done and her father had given a curt nod of approval from the doorway before returning to his office, Ruby felt like she was suffocating. The house was too quiet, the walls too thick, and the air too heavy with things unsaid.
She needed to go back.
She didn't know why, and she didn't try to analyze it. She just knew that she wanted to see if the man with the gray eyes was real, or if he was just a figment of the restless night she'd had.
She waited until the house settled into its evening silence. She didn't put on her student clothes or the designer's silk. She chose a small, sexy black dress from the back of her closet – one she had bought herself and never shown her mother. It was simple, sleeveless, and felt like a second skin. It made her feel like herself.
She slipped out of the estate, taking a taxi to the lounge.
The lounge was busier tonight, the air thick with the scent of expensive spirits and the low, seductive thrum of a jazz bass.
Ruby walked in, her heart doing a slow, heavy roll in her chest. She didn't look at the bar. Her eyes went straight to the VIP section in the back.
And there he was.
He was sitting in the same booth, bathed in the dim, amber light. He was dressed in a dark, perfectly tailored suit that made him look devastatingly handsome.
He wasn't doing anything, just sitting with a glass in his hand, looking out at the room with a cold, detached intensity. He looked powerful and incredibly sexy, a man who didn't need to raise his voice to be the center of the room.
Ruby felt the pull immediately. It was a physical sensation, a magnetic gravity that drew her toward him. She didn't hesitate this time. She walked straight to the booth and sat down across from him.
The man slowly raised his eyes. A small, dark smile touched his lips – it wasn't warm, but it was incredibly attractive. He didn't look surprised to see her.
"Back so soon?" he asked. His voice was a low, resonant, smooth baritone that seemed to vibrate in the air between them.
"I couldn't sleep," Ruby replied, her voice steady even though her pulse was racing. "And I realized I don't like unfinished conversations."
"There was nothing unfinished," he said, leaning forward. The light caught the sharp angles of his face, the rugged line of his
jaw. He looked at her, his eyes tracing the
line of her throat and the fit of her dress.
"You look different tonight. Like someone who knows exactly how dangerous this city can be."
Ruby felt a flush of heat. "Is that a compliment?"
"It's an observation," he said softly. He set his glass down, his long fingers lingering on the rim. "You have a look in your eyes, Ruby. Like you're waiting for the world to start, but you're afraid of what happens when it does."
The vibe between them was thick and heavy, a strange mixture of tension and an irresistible attraction.
Ruby knew she should be careful – this man was a total stranger, an enigma who clearly lived in the shadows – but she couldn't pull herself away.
There was a pull here that she couldn't resist, a feeling that he was the only thing in the city that was actually real.
"You talk a lot about me," she said, leaning in as well. "But you still haven't told me anything about yourself. Not even a name."
"Maybe I don't want you to have a name to put in a box," he said. "Names give people power. I prefer to keep mine."
The music in the lounge shifted, the tempo slowing down into something deep and rhythmic. He stood up, his tall frame towering over the table. He held out a hand, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Dance with me."
It wasn't a request; it was an invitation that felt like a challenge. Ruby looked at his hand, then up at his face.
Her survival instinct told her to leave, to go back to the safety of the estate. But her heart was already lost to the moment. She placed her hand in his.
The moment their skin touched, it felt like a jolt of electricity. His hand was warm and firm, his grip possessive without being rough. He led her to the small, shadowed dance floor near the stage.
He pulled her close, his hand settling on the small of her back, and Ruby felt the heat of him radiating through her thin dress.
They moved slowly, their bodies swaying to the music. Ruby placed her hand on his shoulder, feeling the solid, hard muscle beneath the expensive fabric of his suit.
He was so much taller than her, his presence overwhelming and intoxicating. The scent of his cologne – something like sandalwood and rain – filled her senses.
It was dangerous. She could feel it in the way he held her, in the way he looked down at her as if he were memorizing her face. But she couldn't pull away.
The pull was too strong, the connection too intense.
"You're shivering," he whispered, his breath warm against her temple.
"It's not cold in here," she admitted, her voice breathy.
He tightened his grip slightly, pulling her flush against his chest. She could feel the steady thud of his heart, a rhythm that seemed to match her own.
For a few minutes, the rest of the world vanished. There was no Marcus, no university, no looming gala. There was only the music and the man who felt like a storm she was willing to embrace.
She looked up at him, her face inches from his. He was so incredibly handsome, his features perfected by the shadows. "Why do you look at me like that?" she whispered.
"Like what?"
"Like you know me. Even though we've never met."
His expression flickered for a second, a shadow of something old and dark passing through his eyes before he masked it.
"Maybe I just recognize a kindred spirit. Someone else who's tired of living in a world that doesn't belong to them."
He stopped moving, but he didn't let her go.
They stood in the center of the floor, the music fading into the background. The tension between them was a physical weight now, a wire stretched so tight it was about to snap.
Ruby found herself looking at his lips, wondering what it would feel like to finally bridge the gap.
But he pulled back first.
He didn't drop her hand, but he created space between them, his eyes scanning the room as if he had sensed a shift in the air.
"I should get you a taxi," he said, his voice suddenly cool and professional again.
"I didn't ask for a taxi," Ruby said, feeling a pang of disappointment.
"It's late," he said, his gaze fixed on the entrance of the lounge. "And this isn't the kind of place you should be in after midnight. Not alone."
He walked her toward the door, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back. He didn't say anything else until they reached the curb. He hailed a taxi and opened the door for her, his movements graceful and polite.
"I don't even know where to find you if I want to talk again," Ruby said, pausing before she climbed in.
"You don't need to look for me, Ruby," he said, his eyes locking onto hers one last time. "If you're meant to find me, you will."
He closed the door and tapped the roof of the taxi. As the car pulled away, Ruby looked through the rear window. He was standing on the sidewalk, a tall, dark figure under the streetlights, watching the taxi disappear into the city traffic.
She sat back in the seat, her heart still hammering against her ribs. She didn't know his name. She didn't know what he wanted.
She only knew that the "safe" life she had been living was gone forever. She was intrigued, she was curious, and she was terrified of how much she wanted to see him again.
As the taxi drove through the dark streets of City X toward the estate, Ruby looked at her hand, the one he had held. She could still feel the warmth of his skin.
The gala was only days away, and her father's world was waiting for her, but all Ruby could think about was the man in the shadows and the way he had looked at her like he was the only one who could see who she really was.
She wasn't looking for trouble. But for the first time in years, she felt like trouble had finally found her.