The first time I saw him, I hated him.
Not a casual dislike. Not the fleeting irritation of someone too arrogant for their own good. I hated him with a precision I didn't fully understand—like the world had whispered a warning and I'd ignored it at my own peril.
He stood across the crowded room, perfectly poised, as if the chaos around him didn't exist. And yet, somehow, he commanded attention anyway. A predator in a tailored suit, eyes sharp, scanning, calculating. Everything about him screamed power—and danger.
I should have walked away. I should have ignored him.
But I couldn't.
I felt it before I understood it: a pulse of recognition, sharp and unwelcome. Something in his eyes mirrored a part of me I'd spent years burying. Arrogance. Pride. A desire for control that made my own walls bristle.
"Aria," he said suddenly, voice low, smooth, impossible to ignore.
My heart stuttered. How did he know my name? I hadn't introduced myself. I hadn't spoken a word to him.
He smiled—just slightly—but it was enough. Enough to make my blood run hot, my thoughts scatter, my mind betray me. That smile carried a warning I didn't want to hear: I was already entangled, whether I realized it or not.
"I've been expecting you," he continued, as if our paths crossing was the most natural thing in the world.
My instincts screamed to leave, but my feet refused. Pride. Hatred. Fear. All of it wrestled within me, yet none of it could move me forward—or back.
"Who are you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he tilted his head, eyes darkening, and studied me like he was dissecting a puzzle. "Someone who knows what you're hiding."
That should have terrified me. It did. But more than fear, it stirred something else—something I wasn't ready to admit.
"You don't know me," I said sharply.
"Not yet," he replied, voice calm, almost amused. "But I will. And whether you like it or not… you'll have to trust me eventually."
I laughed bitterly, a sound devoid of humor. "Trust you? After five minutes? Are you insane?"
He smiled again, this time wider, the kind of smile that made my chest tighten in ways I hated. "Insane enough to unravel you."
The lights in the room flickered briefly, shadows stretching across his face, and for a moment, I wondered if he was even human. The kind of man who steps into your life and changes everything before you know his name.
I wanted to hate him. I tried. I really did.
But deep down, I knew—before I even realized it—that this was the beginning of a war I couldn't win. Not with him. Not with myself.
Because some battles aren't about victory. They're about survival.
And in his eyes, I already felt lost.