I couldn't stop thinking about him. Even after we left the club, Xavier Alex lingered in my mind like a dark shadow I couldn't shake. His words echoed over and over again: You don't belong here. What the hell did he mean by that? Who was he to make that kind of judgment about me? And yet, the way he'd looked at me—like I was something fragile, something he wanted to both break and protect—made my stomach twist in ways I couldn't explain.
Kayla was livid on the way home. "Seriously, Zoey, you need to forget about him. Guys like that? They're trouble. And I mean real trouble, not the sexy, fix-him kind. He's dangerous."
"Why do you think that?" I asked, genuinely curious.
Kayla hesitated, her hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. "I've heard things. People disappear around him, Zoey. And he doesn't care. It's like he's...soulless."
I laughed nervously, trying to mask the unease creeping up my spine. "Come on, Kayla. Don't you think that's a little dramatic? He probably just runs with the wrong crowd or something."
But even as I said it, a part of me knew Kayla wasn't exaggerating. There was something about Xavier that felt otherworldly—something cold and untouchable, like he thrived in darkness. Still, I couldn't help myself. My curiosity was burning, and the memory of his dark eyes was seared into my brain.
The next morning, I tried to bury myself in job applications, but I couldn't concentrate. My phone buzzed with a message, and I grabbed it eagerly, hoping for some distraction. Instead, I froze.
Unknown Number: Meet me tonight. 8 PM. The rooftop at Noir.
I stared at the screen, my heart pounding in my chest. How did he get my number? I hadn't given it to him—or anyone else at the club. A wave of unease washed over me, but it was quickly drowned by an inexplicable thrill.
Against my better judgment, I replied. Who is this?
The response came almost instantly.
Unknown Number: You already know.
My stomach flipped. It was him. I knew it before I even asked.
Kayla's voice rang in my head, warning me to stay far, far away, but my fingers were already typing back. Why should I meet you?
This time, there was a pause before his reply.
Unknown Number: Because I don't like to ask twice.
I sucked in a sharp breath. The message was as much a command as it was an invitation, and for some insane reason, I found myself wanting to obey.
By the time 7:30 rolled around, I was standing in front of my closet, trying to decide what to wear. Part of me hated how much effort I was putting into this, but the other part—the part that couldn't forget the way Xavier had looked at me—didn't care. I finally settled on a black dress that hugged my curves without being too revealing.
When I arrived at Noir, my nerves were buzzing. The bouncer at the door didn't even ask for my ID this time; he just stepped aside, like he'd been expecting me. The elevator ride to the rooftop felt like it took an eternity, and by the time the doors slid open, my heart was pounding in my chest.
Xavier was waiting. He stood near the edge of the rooftop, his silhouette outlined by the city lights. He didn't turn as I approached, but I could feel the intensity of his presence.
"You came," he said, his voice cutting through the cool night air.
"You didn't really give me a choice," I shot back, trying to sound braver than I felt.
He turned then, his dark eyes locking onto mine, and I felt that same electric pull as I had the night before. "You always have a choice, Zoey. But you should know by now that I always get what I want."
"And what is it that you want?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving mine. "You."
My breath hitched, but I didn't move. I couldn't.
"And what if I don't want you?" I challenged, though my voice wavered slightly.
A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. "Then I'll have to convince you otherwise."
Standing there, with the city sprawling out behind him and the weight of his words sinking in, I realized I had just stepped into something far bigger—and far darker—than I ever could have imagined. And for reasons I couldn't explain, I didn't want to turn back.