CHAPTER 13

Chloe’s POV — The Next Day

The next day felt unusually long.

And despite telling myself that everything was probably fine… seeing Nicholas walk through the café door with his men instantly shattered any false sense of peace I had built overnight.

My relief vanished.

My heart sank.

There he was — effortlessly intimidating, dressed in black, surrounded by his usual gang of dangerous-looking men. But it wasn’t just their presence that unsettled me…it was the way Nicholas’s dark eyes immediately found mine.

Locked. Unblinking. Watching.

Swallowing down my nerves, I forced myself to walk over to their table. Professional. Calm. Unbothered.

Even though every step I took towards them felt like walking into the lion’s den.

“What can I get you all?” I managed, my voice steady — barely.

They ordered like they always did, casual and relaxed like they didn’t have blood on their hands or danger trailing behind them like shadows. But Nicholas… he didn’t say a word.

He just stared.

His gaze burned into me — like he was seeing too much.

When I returned with their drinks and placed them on the table, I half-expected him to say something.

But nothing.

Then, slowly, one by one, the rest of the men left.

Except Nicholas.

Of course.

It wasn’t long before the café began to empty out, the quiet hum of conversations fading as the last few customers trickled out the door. Yet… Nicholas stayed.

Unmoving.

Waiting.

Why wasn’t he leaving?

I tried to act like it didn’t affect me — like I didn’t feel the weight of his presence — but as I started tidying the backroom, folding cloths and rearranging trays that didn’t need rearranging, I couldn’t ignore the feeling anymore.

That feeling of being watched.

Closely.

Intensely.

I froze when I sensed a shadow at the doorway.

Slowly, I turned — my heart practically in my throat.

There he was.

Nicholas.

Leaning casually against the doorframe like he belonged there…like he owned the very air I was breathing.

“Hi,” he said, his voice rough, low, and somehow softer than I expected.

“H-hi,” I whispered back, nervous energy rippling through me.

Then — like he had all the time in the world — he began walking toward me.

Slow. Calculated.

My instinct made me back away automatically, my spine pressing against the cold counter behind me.

A ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Are you scared of me, angel?” he asked, voice taunting yet curious…like he genuinely wanted to know.

I didn’t trust my voice to lie — so I nodded.

I was terrified.

Not because I thought he’d hurt me… but because I didn’t understand this man. His world. His obsession.

His eyes darkened — not with amusement, but something far more dangerous.

Possession.

“I’d never hurt you,” he said — quietly, fiercely — like it was a vow etched in stone. “Never you.”

Then, he took another step forward.

This time…I didn’t move.

This time…I stood my ground.

Even if my heart was racing wildly in my chest.

Because no matter how dangerous Nicholas looked…

No matter how reckless this was…

A small, stupid part of me wanted to believe him.

Meanwhile…

Adrian Grey

Adrian Grey watched from across the street, his cigarette burning low between his fingers, eyes narrowed at the scene inside the café.

His jaw clenched.

“So this is what’s keeping Nicholas busy these days,” he muttered to himself.

A sick smirk tugged at his lips.

“Perfect.”

The room felt smaller now, the space between Nicholas and me charged with a tension that I couldn’t quite shake. My heartbeat thrummed in my ears as I tried to steady my breath, but the air felt heavier with every second he lingered in front of me.

Nicholas’s presence was magnetic, commanding, and it was impossible for me to ignore him, not when he was so close. There was something almost unnerving in the way his eyes never left mine, searching, studying, like he was trying to peel away the layers I kept so tightly wrapped around myself.

I wanted to speak, wanted to say something — anything to break the silence — but nothing came to my mind. So instead, I stood frozen, as if rooted to the spot, unable to move. A part of me was scared of what would happen next, but there was a deeper, more dangerous part of me that wanted to know what he would do.

“Are you always this quiet, Chloe?” Nicholas’s voice was low, almost amused, like he found some strange satisfaction in the silence.

I swallowed hard, still trying to gather my composure. “I don’t have anything to say,” I finally replied, though the words felt weak, like they couldn’t keep up with the storm brewing between us.

His smile deepened, and the intensity in his gaze seemed to tighten. “No?” He took a small step closer, and I instinctively stepped back, my back now pressed against the wall. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

I felt the warmth of his body against mine, his presence overwhelming, suffocating even. It wasn’t just the physical proximity that made my pulse race; it was the knowledge that I couldn’t escape him. Not now.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmured, his voice suddenly softer, as if trying to soothe me. “I won’t hurt you.”

I wanted to laugh. Maybe even shout at him. But all I could do was look into his eyes and see the sincerity in his expression. It made my chest ache. I didn’t know how to feel, what to believe.

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” I managed to say, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of something dark passing through them. But instead of stepping back, he reached out, his fingers grazing lightly against my arm. The touch was gentle, but it sent a wave of heat through me, making my breath catch.

“You think I’m playing games, Chloe?” he asked quietly, his voice a low whisper now. “I’m not.”

I looked up at him, feeling the weight of his words press against me. “What do you want from me, Nicholas?” My voice was small, but the question felt important, like it might be the one thing that could untangle this mess between us.

Nicholas exhaled softly, stepping back just enough to give me space, though the intensity in his eyes never wavered. “What I want… is simple,” he said, his tone steady but heavy with meaning. “I want you to trust me.”

I blinked, the words catching me off guard. “Trust you?” I echoed, incredulously. “Why? What have you done to deserve that?”

Nicholas didn’t flinch. Instead, he stepped even closer, until there was only a breath’s distance between us. “Because I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you,” he said, his voice low and unwavering. “Not while I’m here.”

I could feel my heart racing, my chest tightening with a mix of fear and something else I couldn’t place. Nicholas was dangerous. He had to be. But there was something in the way he said those words, in the way he looked at me, that made it impossible to dismiss him entirely.

“But I’m not someone you can just control,” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly, though I fought to keep it steady.

Nicholas’s gaze softened just a fraction, though the intensity still lingered. “I’m not trying to control you, Chloe.” He took another step back, allowing a small distance between us, though it felt like everything in the room was still pulling me towards him. “I’m trying to protect you.”

I shook my head, unable to wrap my mind around it. “Protect me from what? From who?”

Nicholas didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he glanced over at the door, his eyes briefly clouding with something unreadable. “You’re too close to things you don’t understand, Chloe. You have no idea what kind of world you’re dealing with.”

His words hung in the air, ominous and foreboding. It was like he was warning me — but from what?

“I’m not a part of your world, Nicholas,” I said, my voice a little steadier now. “I’m just trying to get by. I don’t want to be dragged into your mess.”

Nicholas’s expression darkened, but he didn’t move toward me this time. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair, a rare sign of frustration from him.

“Too late,” he muttered under his breath. “You’ve already been pulled in.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. I could feel the weight of the truth in his words, the realization settling over me like a cold blanket. I couldn’t deny it anymore. I was already in too deep, and no matter how hard I tried to walk away, he wouldn’t let me.

“Then what do you want from me?” I asked, my voice breaking the silence.

Nicholas paused, his eyes never leaving mine. “I want you to stop running,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because running won’t help you anymore.”

The tension between us thickens, almost suffocating, as I stand my ground. Nicholas’s gaze never leaves mine, and for a moment, I’m unsure whether to give in to the strange pull between us or to keep pushing him away.

“You really think you can just waltz into my life and control everything, don’t you?” I finally manage to say, my voice quieter than I intended.

Nicholas doesn’t move. His eyes are dark, unreadable. A flicker of something—amusement, maybe—crosses his face, but it vanishes almost instantly.

“I think,” he says slowly, “that you’re more than capable of handling everything I throw your way.”

I shake my head, trying to ignore the way his words affect me. I want to scream at him, tell him he doesn’t know anything about me, about what I’m capable of. But instead, I just swallow the words, trying to steady my breathing.

“I don’t want to play your games, Nicholas,” I mutter, stepping back, my body instinctively pushing away from his.

He doesn’t move, though. Doesn’t flinch. His calm demeanor unnerves me more than I want to admit.

“Well,” he says softly, “I think it’s too late for that, Chloe.”

I feel my pulse quicken. I want to say something. To argue. To push him away before he gets too close. But before I can gather the words, the sound of the door opening cuts through the tension.

A customer steps inside, pulling me from the moment. They glance around, taking in the cozy atmosphere of the café, seemingly unaware of the heaviness still hanging between Nicholas and me.

“Excuse me,” I say, forcing a professional tone into my voice as I turn away from him. “I’ll be right with you.”

Nicholas doesn’t move, his eyes still locked on me, but his attention seems to shift just slightly. I take the opportunity to step away, my heart pounding in my chest as I walk over to the counter.

The customer, a man in his thirties, waits patiently as I approach. “What can I get for you?” I ask, trying to focus on the task at hand and not on the way Nicholas is watching me from across the room.

I feel his gaze on me, but I refuse to look back. Not right now. Not when I can still feel the heat of his presence lingering in the air.

As I take the customer’s order, I can’t shake the feeling that Nicholas is still there, still watching. And that, despite everything I’ve told myself, I’m not entirely sure I want him to leave.