The bass pounded in Lydia’s ears as she pushed her way through the crowd at Midnight Rose, the hottest nightclub in the city—and the one she had absolutely no business being in.

“This is a terrible idea,” she muttered to herself, clutching her phone like a lifeline.

She wasn’t the party type. She wasn’t even a city girl. She had grown up in a quiet town, moved here for college, and somehow let her roommate convince her to come out for “just one night.” But her roommate had vanished the second they arrived.

Now Lydia was stuck, alone, in a place filled with too much perfume, too many eyes, and too many secrets.

As she turned toward the exit, her shoulder bumped into a man’s chest. A very hard chest.

“I—I'm sorry,” she stammered, stepping back.

The man didn’t move. He was tall, broad, dressed in black with the kind of cold confidence that sent chills down her spine. His suit was sharp, his black shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He didn’t look like he belonged in a club. He looked like he owned it.

“No need to apologize,” he said, voice smooth but edged with danger. “You’re not from around here.”

Lydia blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t belong,” he said, staring directly into her eyes. “This isn’t your world.”

He was handsome—alarmingly so. His jaw was sharp, lips cruelly curved, and his eyes, a dark storm, watched her like she was prey. His presence was magnetic. Threatening. All-consuming.

“I’m just trying to leave,” Lydia mumbled, trying to step around him.

He caught her wrist—not hard, but firmly enough to freeze her.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked.

“Let go of me.”

“Someone like you shouldn’t be here alone.” He leaned in. “Do you know where you are?”

“In a club?”

“You’re in my club.”

Her eyes widened. She hadn’t expected that. “You're... the owner?”

He smirked. “Among other things.”

She yanked her hand free, heart racing. “Well, it’s a terrible place. No offense.”

He didn’t look offended. If anything, he looked amused. “Then why are you here?”

“I’m not your concern,” she said quickly. “I just came with a friend. I’ll be leaving now.”

He stepped aside, but not without one last glance. “What’s your name?”

“None of your business.”

He chuckled, dark and low. “We’ll see about that.”

Lydia bolted, not stopping until she was outside, lungs gulping in the cooler night air. The city lights buzzed overhead, but it didn’t soothe the chill that crept over her skin.

Who was that man?

Jake William watched her from the second-floor balcony, a glass of bourbon in his hand.

He hadn’t meant to stay late tonight. He usually didn’t like mingling with the club’s guests. But something had made him pause when he saw the girl. She didn’t belong here—her innocence clashed violently with the grit of his world. And that intrigued him.

“Boss,” his second-in-command, Marco, approached. “The Russians want to meet next week. You want me to set it?”

Jake didn’t answer. His eyes followed Lydia as she disappeared down the sidewalk.

“You good?” Marco asked.

Jake sipped his drink. “Find out who she is.”

Marco blinked. “The girl?”

“I want her name, her school, where she lives, what she eats. Everything.”

Marco hesitated. “She didn’t look like she was into you.”

Jake’s eyes darkened. “She will be. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

Lydia tried to forget about the incident. For two days, she went to class, worked her part-time job at the campus bookstore, and ignored the nagging thought of that man’s eyes on her.

But then it started.

First, a bouquet of blood-red roses appeared at her apartment door. No note.

Then a black car followed her from class to the coffee shop. It didn’t stop—just trailed her. Watching.

On the third day, a man in a suit walked up to her outside the bookstore and handed her a sleek black envelope.

“What is this?” she asked.

He didn’t answer. Just nodded and walked away.

Heart pounding, Lydia opened the envelope.

Inside was a single card:

> Dinner. Tonight. 8 PM.

Wear red.

You owe me a proper goodbye. – J

She stared at it, stunned. No phone number. No address. Nothing else.

Just an order.

She crumpled it, shoved it in her bag, and marched into work.

Who did he think he was?

8 PM came faster than she expected. She was in pajamas, hair tied up, with absolutely no intention of going anywhere.

Until a knock sounded at her door.

Her heart dropped.

Peeking through the peephole, she saw a tall man in a suit. Not the one from before.

“Miss Lydia?” he called politely.

“No,” she said through the door. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I was sent to escort you.”

“Tell your boss I’m not interested!”

There was silence.

Then another voice—lower, familiar, dangerous—spoke from behind the first man.

“Lydia.”

She froze.

He stepped into view, dressed immaculately, eyes locked on the door like he could see through it.

“I said dinner,” Jake William said, voice deadly calm. “I don’t ask twice.”

Lydia stared at the door like it was the only thing standing between her and a lion.

Jake William was on the other side—calm, cold, unbothered. Her fingers trembled where they clutched the doorknob. Part of her wanted to scream. The other part… wanted to know what he’d say.

“You have five seconds,” Jake said.

She hesitated, heart hammering. “Or what?”

“I come in.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I don’t make empty threats.”

The door opened a few inches. Lydia peeked out and hissed, “This is insane. You don’t know me.”

Jake’s eyes met hers—dark and unreadable. “Not yet.”

She glared. “I don’t go to dinner with strangers. Especially stalkers.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You’ve been on my mind since the moment you ran into me. I’m not the kind of man who lets things slip by.”

“You don’t get to decide what I do.”

Jake’s gaze darkened. “I decide what’s mine.”

The boldness of the statement knocked the wind from her.

“I’m not yours,” she snapped.

He smirked. “That’s what you think.”

Jake stepped back, gesturing to the sleek black car idling behind him. “Five minutes. If you’re not in that car, I’ll come get you myself.”

Then he turned and walked down the hall, not sparing her another glance.

Lydia slammed the door shut.

What kind of man talks like that? He was beyond arrogant—he was dangerous. And yet… the way he looked at her, like she was already claimed—it made her stomach flutter in the worst way.

She paced her apartment, biting her lip.

Five minutes.

He couldn’t actually—

The door opened.

Lydia spun around.

Jake stood in her living room.

Her eyes widened. “What the hell—?!”

“I warned you,” he said simply.

“How did you—!”

“I have keys to this whole building.” He approached, unhurried. “Do you want to make a scene?”

“You can’t just barge into people’s homes!”

Jake stopped in front of her. “I don’t barge. I collect.”

She backed away. “I’m not some object you can just—”

He caught her wrist, gently but firmly. His grip was warm, strong.

“Wear red,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the inside of her wrist where her pulse was racing. “Dinner. Now.”

“I’m not going with you.”

His eyes dropped to her lips, then met her gaze again. “You will.”

There was something about his confidence that made her knees weak.

Jake leaned in, his breath brushing her ear. “Don’t make me dress you myself.”

A chill shot down her spine.

“Fine,” she snapped, yanking her hand away. “I’ll go. But only to get this over with.”

He smiled, victorious. “Good girl.”

She glared at him, cheeks burning, and stomped off to change.

---

Lydia sat in the back of Jake’s Rolls Royce, arms folded tightly across her red dress. She had no idea why she obeyed him. Maybe because he didn’t seem like a man you could argue with. Maybe because she didn’t want to find out what happened if you said no.

Jake sat beside her, legs relaxed, one hand resting casually on the seat between them—too close.

“You clean up nicely,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “So you stalked me, broke into my home, and forced me into a date. Do you always treat women like this?”

“I don’t date women.”

“Excuse me?”

Jake turned his head, looking at her fully. “I don’t waste time. I take what I want. I don’t do games.”

“What do you do, exactly?” she snapped. “Besides own a club and scare people?”

His smile was slow. “You’re asking the wrong questions.”

“What’s the right one?”

“Why did I choose you?”

Lydia scoffed. “You think I care?”

“You should,” he said softly. “Because your life changed the moment we met.”

---

The restaurant was on the top floor of a skyscraper, completely empty except for them. Candles flickered, wine glistened in crystal glasses, and a private violinist played softly in the corner.

“This is ridiculous,” Lydia muttered.

Jake sat across from her, chin resting on his hand, watching her with lazy intensity.

“You don’t like luxury?”

“I don’t like manipulation.”

“You’re not being manipulated,” he said. “You’re being claimed.”

Lydia nearly choked. “Excuse me?! I’m not a piece of property.”

Jake didn’t blink. “You are now. At least to me.”

Her fork clattered to her plate.

“You’re insane.”

He leaned forward. “You can hate me all you want, Lydia. But I’m not letting you go.”

“Why?”

“Because you looked me in the eye and said no. And I can’t forget it.”

“That’s your reason?”

He smiled slowly. “It’s rare. And irresistible.”

Lydia pushed her chair back and stood. “I’m leaving.”

Jake didn’t move. “There’s a price for walking away.”

She froze. “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m warning you. You step out that door, and I’ll still come for you. Every day. Every night. I’ll be everywhere.”

“You’re sick.”

He stood, suddenly in front of her. “You think I’m cruel? This is mercy. If I wanted to, I’d already have you locked in my penthouse, dressed in silk, and marked with my name.”

She tried to step back, but he caught her chin gently.

“I could have taken you tonight,” he whispered. “But I want you to come willingly.”

Lydia’s breath caught in her throat. He was too close. His scent—dark, expensive, intoxicating—wrapped around her like a spell.

“I won’t be one of your toys,” she whispered.

Jake’s eyes burned into hers. “You won’t be. You’ll be mine. Only mine.”

He released her slowly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.

“Goodnight, Lydia.”

She stumbled out of the restaurant, heart slamming against her ribs.

Jake William wasn’t a man.

He was a storm—and she was already caught in it.

---

Lydia couldn’t sleep.

Not because of nightmares, but because of him.

Jake William’s voice echoed in her mind like a dark song: “You’re mine. Only mine.”

She had thought, naively, that ignoring him would make him disappear. But Jake wasn’t a man who vanished. He was a force that demanded attention—and submission.

The next morning, she walked to campus with her headphones in and her hood up, hoping to blend into the crowd. Her heart pounded at every turn, every black car that passed. She told herself she was overreacting. Surely he had better things to do.

But when she arrived at her literature class, there he was.

Not Jake—but his shadow.

A tall man in black leaned against the hallway wall, sunglasses on, arms crossed.

Marco.

She remembered him from the club, standing behind Jake like a loyal hound. Now he was here… watching.

Lydia turned to walk away, but he moved in front of her casually.

“You’re not in danger,” he said calmly. “The boss just wants to make sure you’re safe.”

“I don’t need his protection.”

Marco didn’t respond. Just held her gaze until she finally pushed past him and entered the classroom.

The eyes of the other students made her skin crawl. Had they seen him too? Were they whispering about her already?

She sank into her seat, trying to focus, but her nerves were on fire.

Jake was marking her like territory.

And people were beginning to notice.

---

Later that day, Lydia was walking through the quad when a guy named Ethan—her classmate from psychology—waved at her.

“Lydia!” he called out, jogging up beside her.

She smiled, relieved. “Hey! Didn’t expect to see you.”

“I was just heading to the cafe. You want to come?”

“Yes, actually. I could use some normal conversation.”

Ethan grinned. “Glad to be of service.”

They walked together, laughing about their shared hatred for midterms. For a moment, Lydia relaxed. She could almost pretend Jake didn’t exist.

Until Ethan’s smile faded, his eyes focusing on something behind her.

“Hey… who’s that?”

Lydia turned.

Jake stood across the courtyard, dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his expression unreadable. His dark eyes locked on Ethan like a loaded gun.

“Oh no,” Lydia whispered.

Jake began walking toward them.

“Uh…” Ethan said, shifting uneasily. “Is that your boyfriend?”

“No,” Lydia said quickly. “Absolutely not.”

Jake stopped in front of them.

Ethan extended a hand, trying to keep it friendly. “Hey, man. I’m Ethan.”

Jake didn’t take his hand. He looked at it like it was something that needed to be removed.

“Leave,” Jake said flatly.

Ethan blinked. “What?”

Jake’s voice dropped. “Walk away. Now.”

“Okay, whoa. Chill. I was just—”

Jake stepped closer, eyes sharp. “You don’t talk to her. You don’t look at her. If I see you within five feet of her again, you won’t like what happens next.”

Ethan’s face paled. “Dude, what the hell is your problem?”

Jake didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink.

Ethan took the hint and walked away without another word.

Lydia spun on him. “Are you serious?!”

Jake turned his attention to her. “You don’t need boys like that sniffing around.”

“He’s just a friend!”

“I don’t care what he is.”

“You don’t own me!”

Jake’s jaw clenched. “You keep saying that like it matters.”

“It does! You can’t control me!”

Jake moved closer. “I already do.”

“You’re insane!”

He leaned down, his lips inches from hers. “You think I’d let anyone touch what’s mine? I’ll put a bullet in the head of every man who so much as smiles at you.”

Her breath caught. She wanted to slap him. Scream at him. But the fire in his eyes made her freeze.

“This isn’t love,” she whispered.

Jake’s gaze didn’t soften. “No. It’s obsession. Get used to it.”

Then he walked away, as if he hadn’t just declared war on her entire social life.

---

That night, Lydia’s phone buzzed.

Unknown Number:

“You looked beautiful today. I didn’t like the way he stared at you.”

She blocked the number instantly.

Then she locked her doors. Twice.

---

The next day, she tried to change her routine. She took different hallways. Sat at the back of class. Ate lunch alone.

Still, she felt his presence like a shadow draped over her skin.

After her shift at the bookstore, she found a single red rose lying on the counter.

No note.

Just the rose.

She gripped it tightly and stormed out, heart racing.

Jake was watching her, always.

She reached the corner of the street and paused—then turned.

And sure enough, across the road, under the streetlight, stood a tall figure in a black coat.

Jake.

She raised the rose and threw it into the trash can beside her. Slowly. Deliberately.

Then she turned her back on him and walked away.

But she could still feel him smiling.

---

Back in his penthouse, Jake poured himself a drink and stared at the city skyline.

“She’s testing you,” Marco said from the sofa.

“She’s fighting it,” Jake replied, sipping slowly.

“You could force it. You’ve done it before.”

Jake turned to him, expression cold. “She’s not like the others.”

Marco raised a brow. “You’re soft on her already.”

“I’m not soft,” Jake growled. “I’m focused.”

Marco smirked. “Then what happens when she keeps pushing back?”

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “She’ll break. They always do.”

---

Lydia didn’t sleep again that night.

Not because of fear, but because her heart was caught in a battle she didn’t understand.

Jake William was dangerous.

And worst of all… a part of her didn’t want to run anymore.

---