The ink on my law degree is barely dry, yet my biggest case so far is trying to figure out the man across the hall. I moved to the city to prosecute criminals, not to share a wall with one. Dante Russo. He’s at least fifteen years older than me, wears custom-tailored Tom Ford suits like armor, and moves with the predatory grace of a panther. Ever since I dragged my moving boxes into 4B, I’ve felt his heavy, calculating gaze on me. I know what he is. You don't have men in leather jackets dropping off duffel bags at 3 AM if you work in finance.

Tonight, I’m wrestling with my broken lock when his door opens. The scent of bergamot, expensive bourbon, and danger washes over me. Dante leans against his doorframe, swirling a crystal glass. He looks at my messy bun and the oversized college sweatshirt slipping off my shoulder. His eyes darken, a muscle feathering in his sharp jaw.

"Lock’s sticking?" his voice is a low, gravelly rasp that sends an involuntary shiver straight down my spine.

"I can manage," I say, trying to sound like a tough, cynical city lawyer. I fail miserably.

Dante crosses the hall in two strides. He invades my personal space, his large, scarred hands covering mine on the doorknob. "Rule number one of living in this city, Little Bird: don't look too closely at the shadows. They might look back." With a single, effortless twist, he opens the door. He steps back, his eyes tracking the blush creeping up my neck. I should be terrified. Instead, I’m entirely captivated.

🖋️ "Don't look too closely at the shadows..." 🫣 Dante is already giving us major protective alpha vibes! Do you think Elara should run or stay? Tell us what you would do below! 👇 Hit ❤️ if you're ready for this dark romance, and share with your Booktok bestie! ⚖️🖤