LOGINLisa battles to weather or not David is slipping from her hands,But just on look at a man who she couldn't even see completely,got her forgetting that David ever existed how could she when he follows her into her sleep. In her dreams, she isn’t alone. The shadows breathe, the walls whisper, and from the darkness he comes… the masked stranger. His touch is fire, his voice a command she cannot resist. He is dangerous, possessive, and mercilessly addictive. Worst of all, he claims her as his body, heart, and soul while the man she loves sits beside another woman in daylight, pretending she doesn’t exist. Torn between shame and desire, reality and dream, Lisa is forced to ask herself: is the masked stranger only a nightmare… or is he real? And when he whispers “Mine”, will she have the strength to fight—or the hunger to surrender?
View MoreLisa POV
The wine glass sweats in my hand, cold droplets sliding down the stem like they want to escape as badly as I do. My grip tightens, knuckles whitening, as if holding on harder might keep me grounded. The stool beneath me creaks when I shift. Too loud. Everything about me feels too loud in this glittering hall, even though no one is looking my way. Which is fine. Better than being seen. Crystal chandeliers hang overhead, scattering diamond-shaped light across people who belong here people who have never eaten without silver cutlery or worn clothes that weren’t tailored to perfection. Their laughter rings sharp and effortless, the kind that reminds you exactly where you stand. Or where you don’t. Then my gaze finds him. David. My boyfriend. My anchor. My undoing. He sits at a round table near the center of the hall, surrounded by people who matter. His suit fits him like it was made for him alone, every detail deliberate. He looks confident. Comfortable. Like he belongs here. And beside him sits Annette. She smiles at almost everything he does, her attention lingering on him a second longer than necessary. When he speaks, she tilts her head, earrings catching the light, her hand resting just a little too close to his arm. Something burns in my chest. Stop it, Lisa. You’re overthinking again. This is why David has grown distant. Because I notice things. Because I can’t be easy, can’t laugh without wondering what it means. Because I don’t belong in his world of polished smiles and effortless conversations. He’s loved me for three years. He gave me a job when no one else would me, with nothing but a high school certificate and a history of failures. I should be grateful. And yet here I sit, invisible, watching him laugh with people who understand him while I shrink into the background like furniture. Maybe I should go to him. No. That would only make things worse. But staying here, clinging to my glass like a ghost, makes me feel smaller by the second. I stand. My heels click against the polished floor, sharp and unforgiving, announcing my presence when I want silence. Still, I force my legs forward, my pulse hammering as I approach their table. Annette notices me first. “Lisa?” Her smile twitches. “What are you doing here? I thought you were sitting over there.” She points behind me. David turns. His expression goes blank. That familiar flicker appears in his eyes the quiet, cutting question I know too well. Why are you here? “I…..I was getting bored,” I say, forcing a smile that trembles. “Thought I’d come find you.” Annette’s lips curve, sweet and sharp. “Oh dear. There are only five seats here, and we’re all taken. Where would you sit?” Her voice is polite. Her eyes are knives. I look at David, silently begging him to say something. Anything. He looks away. “You know how tight things get,” he says casually. “I don’t want anyone feeling uncomfortable. Especially you. You handle this kind of thing better than the rest of us.” The words pour ice down my spine. “Oh,” I whisper. “Right. I’ll just… wait over there until it’s time to leave.” “Yeah,” he says, relief flickering across his face. “That’s fine.” I turn away before my smile cracks. Back on the stool, I stare into my wine as minutes stretch into something heavier. Annette’s laughter drifts through the room, sharp and constant. David’s voice follows, easy and familiar. You handle this better. Do I? Or have I just learned how to disappear quietly? A shadow falls across my lap. “Lisa.” I look up. David stands beside me. Annette lingers behind him, pale and fragile, one hand pressed to her forehead like she might faint at any moment. “She’s not feeling well,” David says, his hand resting on her arm. “She doesn’t have a ride home. I’ll take her.” My stomach drops. “Oh… okay. You could drop her off on the way and then” “No.” His voice cuts sharply. “I can’t leave her alone. She’s sick.” “What about her brother?” I ask, softly. His eyes harden. “Stop being childish. Take a cab. I’ll meet you at home.” The kiss he presses to my cheek burns like a warning. Then he’s gone. Just like that. The night air slaps me as I step outside cold, fresh, empty. My phone buzzes in my hand. Sorry, ma’am. There’s an issue with your ride. No other options available. Of course. The road stretches ahead, silent and dark. Guests are gone. Cars have scattered. I hug my arms around myself and start walking, heels crunching against gravel, the wind whispering through tall grass like it knows something I don’t. Then Headlights. They curve around the bend, slow and deliberate. The car pulls over beside me. The window slides down. A man looks out. A dark mask covers the lower half of his face. Only his eyes are visible steady, unreadable. “Good evening, Lisa,” he says. I freeze. I have never told him my name. ….. /AN/ What do you think about David?Lisa’s POVThe elevator doors slide open with a soft chime, but the sound still makes something jolt inside my ribs. The office smells like warm metal and fresh cut leather familiar, but also tighter now, as if the air is holding its breath with me.I haven’t seen Andraven properly in days.Not since the reveal.Not since the mask.Not since the moment he said my name like it belonged to him.I walk into the Atelier floor and pretend my legs aren’t trembling. Katty lifts her head from her desk the moment she sees me, her eyes narrowing like she’s already reading the storm I’m trying to hide.“You’re walking like someone who saw a ghost,” she says, lowering her voice.I force my lips into a smile. “Pretty dramatic thing to say at 9 a.m.”She rolls her eyes. “Lisa. You’ve been… somewhere else lately. And not the ‘hot crush’ kind of somewhere else. More like ‘my brain is playing survival mode’ kind.”I inhale. Slow. Unsteady.If only she knew how close she was.Before I can answer, the d
Lisa’s POVThe office feels different.Not louder, not busier, just tense. Like everyone’s waiting for something to happen, but no one knows what.Andraven hasn’t said a word to me since that night.No calls. No messages. No quiet summons to his office. Just a polite distance that cuts deeper than any insult could.It should make things easier.It doesn’t.Every time I pass his door, my heart skips like it remembers something my mind keeps trying to forget the heat of his mouth, the way he’d whispered my name like it cost him something.But there’s something else in the air this week.Real ones“Did you hear about the investors’ meeting?”“Yeah, canceled again. Rumor says the Valen Consortium pulled out.”“Pulled out? Please, they own half of Manhattan’s underbelly. You don’t pull out when you own the board.”“Then why the tension upstairs?”“Because someone’s forcing their hand.”I catch bits and pieces as I walk past the break room enough to know they’re talking about Andraven.Th
Lisa’s POVEvery time I close my eyes, I see his face both of them,the familiarity I felt all this while,Andraven behind his desk, polished and cold, and the masked man with eyes that burned like stormlight. The way he’d said stay. The way he’d kissed me. The way my body had known this before my mind caught up.I’m not sure which part of me is more shaken, the woman who wants answers or the one who already knows them.For two weeks, silence is my punishment.No calls,No summons,Just the weight of a truth I can’t unseen and a man who’s pretending not to exist,The office feels emptier, colder. Even Katty’s gossiping can’t fill the space he left behind.“You look like a ghost,” she tells me one morning, nudging a coffee into my hand. “You and Mr. Steele got into a fight or something?”I almost choke. “What? No. Why would you think….”“Please,” she scoffs, smirking. “You think people don’t notice? The air changes when he walks by your desk. I’m surprised the glass doesn’t fog up.”I forc
Lisa’s POVTwo weeks.It’s been two weeks since the explosion since the world went white with noise and fear and Andraven’s arm locked around me like a shield.Two weeks since I saw him command chaos like it belonged to him.Two weeks since I stopped sleeping properly.He hasn’t been the same.Neither have I.He’s become a ghost that still breathes beside me quiet, controlled, distant. The glances we once shared, those brief sparks that made the office air hum, have turned into blank spaces. Every look feels deliberate, rationed. Every word, measured like currency.And yet, I can still feel him even when he’s silent. Especially then.That calm power underneath, that danger that never really leaves the room.Sometimes I catch myself staring at his reflection in the glass wall, wondering which version I’m seeing the man I work for or the man who dragged me out of fire.And I hate that part of me still wants to know......It’s almost ten when I realize I’m the last one left on the des
Third person view Lisa doesn’t understand why her heart races just standing outside the restaurant’s gold-framed doors. It’s not a date, she tells herself for the hundredth time. It’s business.But when she steps inside, the lie doesn’t hold.The place breathes exclusivity dim lights dripping from
(Lisa’s POV)Days blur together inside Andraven’s office.Sometimes it feels less like a workplace and more like a cage built out of glass and silence.I sit across from him every morning. He hums of the city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the faint tick of his clock marking time that never r
Lisa’s POVSleep is a joke.I toss, turn, count city lights bleeding through my curtains, but Andraven’s voice threads through the silence like dark silk.Every word he says, every look feels like it carves itself deeper into my skin.The locked drawer in his office.The faint scent of smoke.The
Lisa’s POVThe morning light slides through my apartment blinds, soft and golden, but it feels like it’s burning right through my thoughts.I shouldn’t still be thinking about him about that look, that tone, the way my pulse betrays me whenever he’s near.There's something i can't just put my hand






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