Unexpected Encounter. Be my wife.

(ONE MONTH LATER)

....She makes me wanna get off the road

Wish I could turn it off, let it go

But she's too fucking beautiful.

- "Beautiful" by Michele Morrone

*****

In the heart of the woods, far from civilization, a grand, ominous mansion stood tall. The silence was broken only by the occasional cries of agony and despair echoing from deep within.

Inside the lavish lounge, a man sat on an opulent chair, sipping wine while gazing at a photograph in his hand. His lips curled into a smile as he studied the image—a woman with flowing brunette hair, her nose scrunched as she held a playful puppy.

A servant approached hesitantly, carrying a tray. Curiosity flickered in his eyes, wondering about the photograph that had softened his boss’s typically stern demeanor.

“Sir, the ice cubes,” the servant announced.

“Leave them on the table,” the man replied curtly, his voice cold yet commanding. Rising with a glass of wine in hand, he strode toward the fireplace.

“You make me crazy,” he murmured, his voice dark and low. “Your presence is my obsession. Your kiss is the only drug I crave.” His eyes gleamed with a dangerous intensity as he swirled the wine.

Addiction. A weakness he despised in others, yet he was helpless when it came to her. His mind, his body—it all burned with an insatiable hunger for her touch. He knew that once he had her again, he would never let go.

“Soon, my sweetheart,” he whispered to the photograph. “Every second away from you is a torment I cannot bear.” The firelight reflected in his eyes, mirroring the flames of his relentless obsession.

Tracing the photo with his finger, his voice hardened. “Do you feel this pain too? You will. Once I have you in my trap, I’ll make you pay for every day you stayed away from me.”

The promise in his tone was chilling. She had dared to believe she could escape him, but he would remind her who she belonged to. He had power, wealth, and everything a man could desire—except her. And he would stop at nothing to make her his.

---

The shrill buzz of the alarm shattered the morning stillness. Groaning, Evanora reached out blindly, fumbling to silence it. She buried her face back into the pillow, desperate for a few more moments of peace.

But her reprieve was short-lived. The door burst open, and a group of maids flooded in, their voices far too cheerful.

“Rise and shine, Missy!” they sang in unison.

Evanora groaned louder, clutching the pillow over her ears. “I swear, you’re all getting fired if you don’t leave me alone!” she grumbled, though without real conviction.

One of the maids, Cruella, smirked. “You’ve been saying that for years, and yet here we are, still happily spending your money.”

Evanora cracked an eye open, glaring at the group. “You’re starting to sound like Cruella de Vil,” she muttered, earning a chorus of laughter.

“Well, Miss De Vil,” Cruella teased, “you have one last scene to shoot today. The movie wraps up!”

Evanora sighed, throwing the pillow aside. “Fine, fine. Go prepare my bath.”

As Cruella scurried off, Evanora leaned back against the headboard. A month had passed since her world had crumbled—since her broken marriage and the relentless scrutiny of the public eye. She forced herself to keep going, telling herself she could push through.

Interviews to clear her name, endless explanations to satisfy the fans—it was exhausting.

A knock interrupted her thoughts. Before she could respond, the door creaked open, and another maid entered, holding a large box.

“You’ve got another gift,” the maid said with a giggle, setting it down.

Evanora stiffened, her stomach twisting with unease. The gifts had been arriving for weeks, always anonymous, always unsettling.

With trembling hands, she opened the box. Her breath hitched. Inside was a photograph—of her, taken the previous night while she slept. Naked.

Her hands shook as she read the note accompanying it: “Looking like an angel. See you soon, sweetheart.”

“Mrs. Eva!” A voice broke through her shock. She jumped, turning to find the maid staring at her in concern. “Are you okay? I’ve been calling you.”

Snapping out of her trance, Evanora barked, “Throw this garbage out. And tell the guards—I don’t want to receive any more gifts.”

The maid rolled her eyes but complied, taking the box away.

Evanora’s phone rang, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts. Seeing her sister Andrea’s name, she smiled faintly and answered.

“Congratulations, sweetheart!” Andrea’s cheerful voice greeted her.

“Thanks, sis,” Evanora replied, her tone softening.

After a pause, Andrea hesitated. “I hope you can come to the family dinner.”

Evanora sighed. “I’m busy—”

“No excuses!” Andrea cut her off. “You’re family, and you need to be here. Besides, I want to introduce you to my fiancé and his family.”

Rolling her eyes, Evanora relented. “Fine. I can’t say no to you.”

“Great! Love you, kiddo,” Andrea chirped, blowing kisses through the phone.

Evanora laughed, the weight of the morning lifting slightly. “Love you too.”

________

---

"Good day, Mrs. Evanora," the workers bowed respectfully as she strode through the hall with regal grace. Guards surrounded her like an impenetrable wall, her beauty radiating like diamonds under the sun.

Evanora was the epitome of elegance, admired even among the most celebrated stars, but behind that flawless exterior lay a heart that had endured unimaginable pain.

"Hey, guys, sorry I'm late, but I had to—" Her words froze mid-sentence as her eyes locked onto a figure she had tried to forget for months.

The man she had a one night stand with....

Seated like a king, he exuded an aura of authority, a lit cigarette held lazily between his fingers. His head tilted to the side, and an infuriatingly smug smirk played on his lips, a glint of mischief in his piercing gaze.

Evanora’s heart raced wildly, her practiced smile faltering. Their eyes clashed in a silent battle neither was willing to lose—until she finally looked away, her composure teetering.

Turning to the group of actresses nearby, who were giggling and blushing, she asked with forced calm, "Who is he? What's he doing here?"

One of the women, wide-eyed, gasped. "You don’t know him? That’s Eros Kane! The youngest and richest billionaire in New Orleans. Ruthless, untouchable—even politicians bow to him. The Kane family is famous worldwide. How could you not know them?"

Evanora’s eyes widened as she turned back toward him. He was now engaged in conversation, but as if sensing her gaze, he looked directly at her. She quickly averted her eyes, heat rising to her cheeks.

Her heart sank. The memory of the night she had thrown money at him resurfaced, her embarrassment threatening to overwhelm her. She hadn’t expected to see him again, yet here he was, larger than life.

"What’s he doing here?" she whispered harshly to the same woman, who gave her a sharp look.

"He just bought this production company. This is his first visit," the woman replied. "I thought he was a myth! He’s so handsome," she gushed.

Evanora swallowed hard. Why does fate always bring back what you’re desperate to escape?

"Alright, everyone! Sorry for the delay," the director called out. "Let’s begin the final scene. The main couple, on set, please!"

Evanora took a deep, steadying breath, nerves crackling through her as Lucas, her co-star, sauntered over.

"You look stunning, sweetheart," Lucas murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist.

She forced a smile but couldn’t shake the weight of Eros's gaze. Turning slightly, her suspicions were confirmed. He was watching them darkly, jealousy flickering in his eyes like a storm.

The scene began. Evanora's character, vulnerable yet defiant, confronted Lucas’s with fiery intensity. Their dialogue flowed seamlessly, their chemistry palpable, but her focus faltered when she spotted Eros out of the corner of her eye.

Leaning back in his chair, he seemed relaxed, a glass of whiskey replacing the cigarette. Yet the flicker of amusement in his eyes suggested he was anything but.

Evanora bit her lip, forcing herself to deliver her lines with precision. She poured her emotions into her character's climactic monologue. As Lucas leaned in for the kiss, a vivid memory of her night with Eros tore through her mind.

"Cut!" the director's voice broke through. "Are you alright?"

"I need a break," she blurted, rushing off the set before waiting for a reply.

---

In the restroom, she paced frantically, panic coursing through her veins.

"What the hell is he doing here?" she muttered, gripping the sink for support.

Suddenly, she caught his reflection in the mirror. Her heart stopped. Turning slowly, she found him standing there, watching her like a predator savoring its prey.

A sinister smirk tugged at his lips. "We meet again," he said, his voice dark and smooth.

Evanora forced a smile. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t remember you," she said, her voice sharper than intended.

She turned to leave, but his hand shot out, gripping her arm and spinning her around. Her back hit the wall as he towered over her, his presence suffocating.

"You really don’t know who I am, do you?" he asked, his tone mocking yet dangerous.

Evanora’s throat tightened. "I don’t care who you are, Mr. Kane. Whatever you want, I can’t give it to you," she said, her voice trembling.

Eros chuckled darkly, his eyes boring into hers. "When I want something, I get it, princess. And you don’t get to say no. I don’t take no for an answer."

Her breath hitched, fear coursing through her. "What have I gotten myself into?" she whispered, more to herself than to him.

Their gazes locked, the tension unbearable.

"If it’s another night you’re after," she managed to say, "I can’t give you that."

His smirk deepened. "I don’t want another night," he said, his voice low and possessive. "I want you to be my wife."