Chapter 2

:Connection

When I was six, I accidentally overheard the maids talking, and I found out that I was the daughter of another woman who was now dead. My stepmother always told me I wasn’t her daughter, but I thought she was just saying that because she was mad at me. I was wrong. As I grew up, I learned that the woman who gave birth to me had worked here as a maid, and then, suddenly, she left. Ten months later, she left me at the door and disappeared.

When I was younger, I couldn’t understand all of this, but now I realize that neither my mother nor my stepmother loved me, and neither did my biological father. My half-sister and half-brother act as though I don’t exist. They don’t talk about me and avoid being near me, as if I’m some sort of parasite.

This morning, as soon as I woke up, the maids warned me that my stepmother was hosting a party today and that I shouldn’t leave my room. I’m working late today, so no one will notice if I sneak into the house.

“It’s time to come down to Earth, Iv,” suddenly, I jumped and looked back. Amelia was looking at me with a smile, her big eyes staring at me.

“You scared me. Where are the others? I’m surprised Lili and Noah aren’t with you,” I asked.

“A new game came out, and they went to buy it. Then we’ll test it. I can’t stand their screaming when they play. They get completely immersed in a different world.”

“True, those two are definitely addicted to online games. Come sit. You want your usual cold Americano, or do you want something else?” she asked.

“No, that’s fine.” Amelia always comes to my workplace and orders coffee when she’s not in a good mood, or when Noah and Lili are about to tear the house down. She just sits there, watching, looking out the window, while I try to visit her whenever I have some free time. My boss is a kind man, and he treats me well. He’s been running this café for twenty years. He and his wife started this business, but three years ago, his wife passed away, and he was left alone.

Why is it that kind people like him always face bad things? He loved his wife more than anything, and now he’s alone. Otto always talks about his wife, how they met, where they went on their first date, how he proposed, their first house – I know everything, as if I were part of their life.

I wish it could be true – that Otto and Lilian were my parents. If that were the case, I think I would be the happiest daughter. But things don’t always turn out the way we want them to.

“Evelyn,” I turned to look at Otto’s voice, and I gazed into his warm, smiling eyes.

“Amelia has been sitting alone for a while. You should go. She seems pretty bored.”

“Amelia always sits here. Otto, this is my workplace. I don’t come here to chat.”

She smiled at me and put her hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t make the old man angry. Go, your friend is waiting for you. She looks pretty upset.”

“You are not old, Otto, you are only fifty,” I said, and he laughed heartily at my comment, patting my head.

“That’s only what you think. Now, go to your friend.”

After my friends, Otto is the only one who treats me like family and always helps me.

I sat in front of Emmy and looked at her saddened face.

“What’s wrong, Em? Is something bothering you?”

She sighed deeply and smiled at me.

“No, I’m just in a bad mood today, you know, bad days,” she rolled her eyes and smiled again.

“Yeah, I’m not having a great day either,” I said, leaning against the chair and looking out the window.

“You’re referring to the party?”

“Yeah, I hope I can sneak in without being noticed.”

Emmy leaned toward me and placed her hand on mine.

“You know you can always stay with me, right?”

“I know, I just have Mr. Berman’s appointment tomorrow morning and I have everything at home, so I need to go.”

“Okay, but if you need anything, just call me, alright?”

I squeezed her hand tightly.

“You know I love you a lot.”

Emmy smiled and raised her eyebrows.

“Get in line, girl, everyone loves me.”

I rolled my eyes, and we both started laughing.

A few hours later, I finished cleaning up the café and went to the changing room. Emmy had already left, so I would have to leave alone. I grabbed my bag and walked out of the room. I said goodbye to Otto and headed home.

I was outside for a while, trying to figure out the safest way to enter. After fifteen minutes of thinking, I decided to walk around the house and climb over the fence from the back. Twenty minutes later, I managed to climb over the fence and land straight into the yard—well, more like falling face-first. I’m unfortunately pretty clumsy when it comes to such things.

I grabbed my bag from the ground, slung it over my shoulder, and started walking, constantly looking around. It’s a good thing the party is in the front yard; no one would notice me here.

I had almost reached the pool when I heard a deep, rough voice. Immediately, I hid behind the bushes by the pool. Thank you to the gardener for these big bushes.

I sat silently for a few minutes. He seemed very angry. I felt sorry for whoever he was talking to. I didn’t think they were in a good situation after all that yelling. Soon, the conversation stopped, and I thought the man had left, but suddenly, black shoes appeared in front of me.

“Is eavesdropping your kink… or just a casual hobby?”

The voice hit me like a match to dry skin — hot, sharp, unexpected.

I jumped and slowly looked up…

And there he was.

Tall. Dark. Devastatingly attractive. Like he’d stepped right out of a nightmare you secretly didn’t want to wake up from. His face was cruelly perfect, carved from shadows and fire, and those eyes—God, those eyes—looked straight through me.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

There was mockery in his tone, but there was something else too… something low and rough, like the first rumble of a storm. He wasn’t just looking at me — he was devouring me.

And fuck, why did that make my knees feel weak?

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to overhear. You were just standing in front of me and—”

“In your way?”

His laugh was a slow, dark thing. Dangerous. Seductive. It curled around my spine like smoke.

“I should go,” I whispered and stood up, ready to escape the thick pull of him — but his hand was already on my arm.

And then I was pulled into him — hard, firm chest against mine, his grip burning against my skin.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

“How much did you hear?”

His voice dropped an octave — low, smooth, threatening. It vibrated straight through my chest, through my stomach, settling somewhere much lower than it should’ve.

I tried to speak. Nothing came out.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he ordered.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze and met his black, merciless eyes.

My breath caught in my throat. His face was too close. His scent — dark cologne and something purely male — made my head spin.

“Say something. Or are you trying to piss me off?”

I was trembling, every nerve screaming danger, but my body… it wasn’t sure whether to run or melt.

“I—I didn’t hear anything,” I finally choked out. “I swear. Just yelling. That’s all.”

He leaned in, so close I felt the heat of his breath on my cheek.

“Why should I believe you?”

His words brushed against my skin like silk and blades. I couldn’t breathe.

“I swear,” I said again, my voice barely a whisper. “Please… let me go.”

He stared at me for one long, terrifying moment — then laughed, a low, cruel sound that made something tighten deep in my stomach.

He let go of my arm. Almost shoved it away.

“Next time I catch you somewhere you don’t belong,” he murmured, eyes still locked on mine, “you won’t walk away so easily.”

Then he turned and walked off.

i stood there frozen, my heart pounding, my skin still tingling where he’d touched me. i didn’t know his name, but i knew one thing:

if i ever saw him again…

it wouldn’t end well—for me.

Shaking, I ran to my room like something was chasing me — or maybe it already had. As soon as I stepped inside, I slammed the door and locked it, leaning against the cold wood like it could protect me from whatever just happened.

But nothing could shut out the memory of him.

His voice.

His hands.

His eyes like smoke and night and war.

I stumbled into the bathroom, barely able to breathe. The hot water ran until the mirror fogged up and the air turned thick with steam — but it couldn’t melt the heat still lingering on my skin… the places where he had touched me.

I didn’t even realize I was crying until I tasted salt on my lips.

An hour passed. Maybe more.

When I finally stepped out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around myself and walked to the mirror. My fingers wiped away the steam — and there it was.

A bruise bloomed across my arm like a secret someone had written into my skin. His fingers had left their mark. Bold. Possessive.

I traced it lightly, breath catching in my throat.

Looks like I won’t be wearing anything with straps for a while,” I muttered to my reflection, lightly brushing my fingers over the forming bruise.

God, why did it feel like he was still here?

Still watching me?

I left the bathroom in a daze, pulling open my closet and grabbing the first set of underwear and soft pajamas I could find. Every brush of fabric against my skin made me more aware of where he’d touched me. Of how close he had been.

Of how close I had come to something I didn’t understand — something raw, powerful, terrifying…

And strangely magnetic.

Once dressed, I crawled into bed and pulled the blanket over me, curling into myself like that could make the memory go away. But when I closed my eyes, all I could see was him.

And the worst part?

A part of me didn’t want to forget.