The walk home should have felt normal.
The drizzle painted the streets silver, the city lights flickered off the wet pavement, and the distant hum of traffic filled the night. But Helen couldn't focus on any of it.
Her mind was a storm, replaying the moment again and again the sharp brown eyes, the faint smirk, the way he seemed to see every part of her at once, even the parts she tried to hide
She hugged her coat tighter, shivering more from adrenaline than cold
Why can't I stop thinking about him? she wondered.
Damien Moretti the name carried a weight she barely understood. Feared, powerful, untouchable.
And yet… the way he had spoken to her, the intensity in his gaze, made her pulse race in a way no one else ever had.
Her mother's cough echoed from the apartment above her, grounding her back in reality.
Bills. Medicine. Survival. Damien had no place here, in her world of struggle and quiet desperation. And yet, somehow, he had already invaded it.
Helen sank onto the worn couch, trying to convince herself it was impossible to be affected by someone she barely knew.
He's dangerous, she reminded herself. He's a billionaire, a predator in a city full of predators. He's not for someone like me. And yet, the memory of him leaning over the tray, speaking with that controlled calm, smirk teasing the corners of his mouth refused to leave her mind.
She closed her eyes, imagining him melting into the crowd, disappearing like smoke.
The thought sent a strange ache through her chest. She didn't want to admit it, but she wanted him to notice her again. She hated that she wanted it.
"Don't be ridiculous," she muttered to herself,
opening her eyes. The apartment felt smaller than ever, the night heavier
. Her mother called out from the bedroom, and Helen forced herself up. Reality could not be ignored, even if her heart and mind were trapped in thoughts of a man who belonged to a world she didn't.
And yet, somewhere deep inside, a spark had been lit.
A curiosity. A dangerous thrill that whispered she might survive more than just bills and sleepless nights. Maybe, just maybe, she could survive being near him too.
Helen sank into the armchair by the window, looking out at the glowing skyline.
Her fingers traced the condensation on the glass. Tomorrow, she thought, I'll try to forget him. But somehow… I doubt I will.
Her mother's soft voice called from the bedroom.
"Helen? Are you alright, darling?"
"I'm fine, Mom," Helen replied,
forcing a small smile, even though her chest was still fluttering with thoughts she didn't fully understand.
"Just… thinking about tomorrow."
Her mother shuffled into the living room, placing a gentle hand on her daughter's shoulder
. "You've been working so hard. Don't forget to rest, my love."
Helen squeezed her mother's hand,
hiding the rush of thoughts about a man she barely knew. "I won't, Mom," she whispered. "I promise. I'll take care of everything… I always do."
And yet, as she settled back into the chair, staring at the city lights, Helen couldn't shake the feeling that some part of her heart had already been claimed.
By a man she didn't understand, by a world she had no place in, and by a danger she couldn't ignore.
Tomorrow… she repeated softly, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear. I doubt I'll forget him. Not ever.