Chapter 1: The Stranger in the Rain
The rain came suddenly, turning the city streets into a blur of neon and reflections. Isla Cruz hugged her coat tighter, her heels splashing through puddles as she hurried past the empty alley. Work had run late, and now she was soaked, frustrated, and utterly convinced that the universe was conspiring against her.
She didn't notice him until she collided with a solid chest, spilling the contents of her tote all over the slick pavement.
"Oh my God! I'm so—"
The man's hand shot out, steadying her. He was tall, dark-haired, and impossibly calm, even as rain plastered his coat to his broad shoulders. His eyes, sharp and piercing, met hers, and something in the way he looked at her made her heart skip.
"You're going to ruin your coat," he said softly, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face.
"I… I didn't mean—" she stammered, suddenly aware of how close she was to him. How warm. How dangerously… alive he seemed.
"Let me help," he said, crouching to pick up her scattered papers. His fingers brushed hers, sending an unexpected shiver up her spine.
"Thanks," she muttered, embarrassed, trying to regain her composure. "I'm usually not… clumsy."
He chuckled, low and smooth. "Clearly, today isn't usual."
Her gaze flicked to the street behind him, but all she could focus on was the intensity in his eyes. "Who are you?"
"Someone who should probably stay out of trouble," he replied, standing and offering her a hand. "Rafe Moreno."
"Isla Cruz," she said, shaking his hand, her pulse betraying her. "And you—should probably stay away from people like me."
He smirked, something dangerous and knowing about it. "I don't think I can."
The rain was relentless, drumming on the asphalt around them, and Isla felt a strange pull toward him, a mixture of curiosity, caution, and something… more. Desire, maybe.
She wanted to walk away. She should have. But a small, reckless part of her wanted to stay.
"Be careful," Rafe said, his voice low, almost a whisper as he handed her the last of her papers. "The city isn't as safe as it looks."
"I can handle myself," she said, tucking the papers back into her tote.
He studied her for a long moment, and for reasons she couldn't explain, she felt as if he was seeing through everything—her lies, her fears, her desires.
"Maybe," he said finally. "But sometimes, the things you think you can handle are the ones that will ruin you."
Before she could respond, he was gone into the rain-soaked night, leaving Isla standing there, her heart pounding, and a strange, thrilling thought echoing in her mind:
I want to see him again.
And for reasons she didn't understand… she knew she would.