CHAPTER 6

Antalya/Lance POV

The dormitory hallway stretched endlessly before me, fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows as I dragged my pathetic duffel bag. Room 312. My heart hammered against the tight bandages binding my chest.

Please be empty. Please give me one fucking moment to breathe.

The scent-concealing potion burned through my veins like liquid fire, reminding me of everything I'd sacrificed to escape. My shorn hair felt like phantom limbs, and every step in these masculine clothes was a performance I wasn't sure I could sustain.

The key card beeped. The door swung open.

And there he was.

Broad shoulders filled out a gray t-shirt, golden hair catching the afternoon light like some sort of angel. When he turned around, I nearly choked on my own breath.

"Well, well," he said, those devastating blue eyes raking over me with obvious appreciation. "Looks like I hit the roommate jackpot."

Fuck. My. Life.

I forced my shoulders back, deepened my voice. "Hey there, handsome. Hope you don't mind sharing your space with someone this good-looking."

He laughed, rich and warm. "Confident. I like that in a man." He stepped closer, and I caught his scent—cedar and something dangerously masculine. "I'm Raymond. Raymond Alfonso."

The name hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest. Alfonso. The family that owned me, that had bought me like cattle. My knees went weak, and I stumbled backward against the door.

Oh God. Oh fuck. This can't be happening.

"Whoa there, gorgeous," Raymond said, reaching out to steady me. His fingers burned against my arm. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Or maybe you're just overwhelmed by my devastating charm?"

The cocky grin on his face should have irritated me. Instead, it sent heat spiraling through my stomach.

"I'm not easily overwhelmed," I managed, grateful that my voice didn't crack. "Just... wasn't expecting my roommate to look like he stepped off a magazine cover."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart." His eyes sparkled with mischief. "But you still haven't told me your name."

Think, Antalya. Think like Lance.

"Lance," I said quickly. "Just Lance."

"Just Lance?" He stepped even closer, invading my personal space with predatory grace. "What are you, in witness protection? Running from angry ex-boyfriends? Or maybe you're one of those mysterious bad boys with a dark past?"

If only you knew how dark.

"Something like that," I breathed, acutely aware of how his proximity made my skin tingle.

"Mmm, I do love a mystery." His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Don't worry, beautiful. Your secrets are safe with me."

The endearment sent shockwaves through my system. This was Raymond Alfonso—possibly my arranged fiancé, definitely from the family that had destroyed my life. And he was flirting with me. With Lance. With the lie I'd become.

"What about you?" I asked, desperate to deflect. "Besides having a name that opens doors and breaks hearts, what's your story?"

Something flickered in those blue eyes—darker, more dangerous. "The Alfonso name comes with... complications. Let's just say my family's in the business of getting what we want, when we want it."

I know exactly what your family takes.

"Sounds intense," I managed.

"Oh, it is." He moved to his dresser, pulling out clothes with fluid movements. "We're very good at hunting down what belongs to us. Especially when it tries to run."

My blood turned to ice. Did he know? Was this some sort of game?

"That sounds almost... threatening," I said carefully.

Raymond glanced over his shoulder, that devastating smile back in place. "Only to people who have something to hide. You don't have anything to hide, do you, Just Lance?"

Everything. I'm hiding everything.

"We all have our secrets," I replied, echoing his earlier words.

"True enough." He turned fully toward me, leaning against the dresser with casual arrogance. "So, hockey player, huh? What position do you play?"

"Forward," I answered, grateful for safer territory. "I like to score."

His laugh was low and appreciative. "I bet you do. I'm defense myself—I protect what's mine and make sure nobody gets past me without permission."

The double meaning in his words made my pulse race. Everything about Raymond Alfonso was dangerous—his looks, his family, the way he made me feel things I definitely shouldn't be feeling.

"Must be nice, having such a... protective instinct," I said.

"Oh, I'm very protective of the things I care about." His gaze intensified. "Very thorough in making sure they stay exactly where they belong."

Stop talking. Stop looking at him like that. Remember who he is.

But God, he was beautiful. And the way he looked at me—like he wanted to devour me—made every nerve ending come alive.

"What about you?" he continued, moving closer again. "What makes Lance tick? What gets your blood pumping?"

You do, apparently. Which is the most fucked up thing imaginable.

"I like challenges," I said honestly. "Things that seem impossible. Situations that require... creativity."

"Creativity, hmm?" Raymond was close enough now that I could feel his body heat. "I like creative people. They're so much more... interesting."

The air between us crackled with tension I didn't understand and definitely couldn't afford. This was insane. I was literally hiding from his family, and here I was, practically melting under his attention.

"Well then, Lance-who-has-no-last-name," Raymond said, extending his hand. "Here's to new beginnings and getting to know each other... intimately."

I stared at his outstretched hand, my heart pounding. Everything about this was wrong—the situation, my feelings, the way his touch sent electricity through my entire body when our palms connected.

"New beginnings," I agreed, though the words felt like betrayal on my tongue.

As Raymond's fingers lingered against mine a moment too long, I realized I was in deeper trouble than I'd ever imagined. I'd escaped one Alfonso only to fall under the spell of another.

And the worst part? I wasn't sure I wanted to escape this time.