𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 18+

Chapter V

C H A P T E R 5  :  STRANGERS IN THE NIGHT

Sofie Malone-

I try to remind myself that this is just an impulse, that I don't owe him anything. But deep down, I know that's a lie. 

The truth is that every part of me is aching to see him again, to feel the weight of his gaze on me once more. Every cell in my body is screaming for it, even as my mind tries to push it all away.

I glance at my phone again. I know what I'm doing. I'm letting him win before I've even stepped into the game. I know it.

 I can almost hear him now, his deep, commanding voice telling me that he always gets what he wants. He doesn't have to say it to make it clear. The way he looked at me was enough.

I don't want to be someone who gives in so easily. But the question is: can I resist? Can I really walk away from this?

I bite my lip, my fingers trembling as I pick up my phone. Maybe I can ignore him. Maybe I can keep this distance between us, pretend none of this ever happened.

But then my phone buzzes suddenly, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. I freeze, my heart leaping into my throat. It's a text message.

I swallow hard and glance at the screen.

It's from an unknown number.

Unknown: Did you really think I wouldn't find a way to contact you, Sofie?

I feel a chill run down my spine as I read the words again. There's no mistaking who this is. Rafael. He found a way. He always finds a way.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself before responding. My fingers hover over the screen, but I hesitate. Should I play it cool? Should I pretend that I'm not affected by him, that I'm not trembling at the very idea of him reaching out to me again?

I can't lie to myself. He already has me. He's already gotten inside my head, even if I don't want to admit it.

I tap out a quick response: "I'm not easy to find, DeLuca. What do you want?"

I hit send before I can overthink it, almost regretting it immediately. But the message is out there now. And I can't take it back.

Within seconds, the phone buzzes again. My heart races as I read his reply.

Unknown: You'll find out soon enough. We need to talk, Sofie.

I bite my lip, both excited and terrified by the simplicity of his words. What does he mean by 'talk'? What could he possibly want to discuss after everything that happened at the auction? Does he think he can just walk into my life and take control of it like he's done with everything else?

I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, a cocktail of adrenaline, fear, and anticipation swirling inside me. This isn't just curiosity anymore. It's something else. A dangerous magnetism pulling me closer to him, even as I try to push it away.

How did this happen? How did I let myself get tangled up in his web?

I stand there for a few moments, staring at the screen, the tension in the air thickening with every passing second. He's not going to let me escape this. Not without a reason. Not without a price.

I try to push all the thoughts racing in my mind aside. Focus. Don't fall for it. Don't let him pull you in deeper than you already are.

But deep down, I know. I know that no matter how hard I try to resist, it's already too late. The choice was made the moment I stood up to him at that auction, the moment I locked eyes with him and let him see the fire burning within me. This was never about art. It was never just about a painting. This is about power. Control. And maybe—just maybe—about something darker.

I glance at the clock. My phone buzzes again. Another text.

Unknown: I'll pick you up in an hour. Don't be late.

I put the phone down, running my hands over my face. The anticipation, the fear, the curiosity—it's all tangled up inside me. Part of me wants to cancel, to walk away before this gets too deep. But another part—the part that wants to understand him, the part that wants to know what this feeling between us really is—urges me to go.

An hour. That's all I have to prepare myself.

I glance at the clock again. It's already getting late, and I still haven't decided what I'm going to wear. I don't know why it matters, but somehow it does. Something about this feels different from anything I've ever done before. This isn't just about art, or an auction, or even money. It's about power—his power. And I can't help but wonder if, by the end of the night, I'll be begging for him to take control.

Shaking off that thought, I head to my closet and pull out something simple, a little black dress that hugs my body just right. Nothing too fancy, nothing too casual. I don't want to give him too much, but I don't want to look like I'm trying too hard, either.

As I change, I feel a strange sense of anticipation in the pit of my stomach. What is this? Why am I letting this man—this stranger—have such an impact on me?

I try to push the question away, but it lingers.

When I finally finish getting ready, I check the time again. Five minutes until he arrives. I'm still not sure what this is all about, but I know one thing for certain—whatever happens tonight will change everything.

The doorbell rings, and my heart skips a beat.

It's time.

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