The next time they met, it was at the campus. Broad daylight. Public setting. Safe… in theory.
Alina was walking out of her 10 a.m. lecture when she saw him.
Dominic leaned casually against a silver motorcycle parked right in front of the faculty building. His helmet dangled from one hand. His sunglasses reflected the sunlight, but she could still feel him watching her.
"Really?" she muttered under her breath. "Right in front of my department?"
Students walked by, whispering and giggling. A few snapped photos. Dominic was impossible to ignore — tall, dressed in all black, and annoyingly handsome like he'd stepped out of a mafia drama.
When she reached him, she didn't stop walking.
"You're going to get me fired," she said as she passed.
He turned and walked beside her, matching her pace effortlessly.
"I wasn't trying to get you fired," he said. "I just figured if I came dressed like this, you'd at least talk to me instead of running off like last time."
She side-eyed him. "And what do you want to talk about? More 'perspective'?"
Dominic smiled, slow and wicked. "No. I just wanted to see your face again."
Alina stopped walking. "Seriously? That's it?"
"You don't like compliments?"
"I don't like confusion."
He stepped a little closer, voice lowering. "Then let's make it simple. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm not here to play games. I'm just… interested."
"In what?"
"You."
That one word landed like a punch to her stomach.
Alina opened her mouth to argue — because obviously this was wrong on every level — but before she could, someone cleared their throat behind her.
It was Professor Ames, one of the stricter heads of department.
"Alina," he said, frowning. "Is this your student?"
Dominic smoothly extended a hand. "Dominic Romano, sir. Just asking for help with a political philosophy paper."
Ames raised a brow but didn't press. "Keep it brief. You know the rules."
As he walked off, Dominic gave Alina a sly look.
"You're welcome."
"For what?"
"Saving your job. I can play the innocent student when I need to."
She rolled her eyes and walked off again, but this time, she didn't tell him to stop following.
That evening, Alina found herself in her apartment, pacing.
She had told herself to cut contact. Stay away. This was dangerous. He was dangerous.
But there was something thrilling about him. Something alive.
She sat on her couch, staring at her phone. He hadn't texted. She hadn't blocked him either. Maybe she was waiting for him to make the next move. Maybe she wanted him to.
The knock on her door made her jump.
Her heart raced.
Please don't let it be him. Please don't let it be—
She opened the door.
It was him.
Dominic stood there in a hoodie and jeans this time. Less mafia prince, more reckless college boy. But his eyes were the same. Dark. Sharp. Hungry.
"How did you get my address?"
"You're a professor. It's public record."
"That's illegal."
"Only if I use it badly," he said, stepping inside like she'd already said yes.
She stared at him for a second, then shut the door.
They sat on opposite ends of her couch.
Dominic looked around her small living room. "You're more normal than I expected."
"I am normal."
"That's what makes you so dangerous," he said, grinning. "You look harmless. But you ask questions. You dig too deep. You don't scare easily. That's the type of woman that gets people killed in my world."
Alina folded her arms. "And what makes you think I want anything to do with your world?"
He leaned forward slowly, his voice dropping.
"Because you haven't kicked me out yet."
Their eyes locked. The tension crackled like static between them.
It would've been so easy to stand up, to scream, to push him out the door.
Instead, Alina said, "Tell me why you're really here."
Dominic's expression changed.
The cocky smile faded. For a moment, just a flicker, he looked tired.
"I'm here because someone killed my father. And whoever it was… they're hiding in plain sight."
Alina blinked. "Wait. I thought—"
"The official story is that he died of natural causes. That's what the FBI closed the case on. But I know it was a hit. From inside."
She stared at him, not sure if she believed him… but also not sure she didn't.
"And you think that person is… connected to the university?"
"I think this school has secrets. A lot of powerful families send their kids here. A lot of dirty money comes through the business department. Your name came up in some files that weren't supposed to be accessed."
"My name?"
He nodded. "You're being watched too, Professor."
Alina stood up. "This is insane. You're paranoid."
Dominic stood too, stepping into her space.
"Maybe. Or maybe you're in more danger than you think."
She opened her mouth to argue — again — but then he reached out and gently brushed a stray hair from her cheek.
His fingers barely grazed her skin, but it sent heat rushing down her spine.
Neither of them moved for a long moment.
Then she whispered, "You should go."
He nodded once. No argument. But before he stepped away, he said softly:
"If I ever scare you, tell me to stop. And I will."
Then he was gone.
And Alina was left alone in her apartment, heart pounding, hands trembling, and the terrifying realization settling in:
She wasn't afraid of him.
She was afraid of how much she didn't want to stay away.