By day, Liam Dawson was the polished CEO everyone admired—sharp suit, colder smile. By night, he was something far more dangerous. The name whispered in underground circles, the man who ruled the shadows.

To you, though? He was just the handsome neighbor who always greeted you kindly.

You’d only ever managed a shy smile in return.

So when your best friend dragged you to her birthday party, you didn’t expect the night to end with you blackout drunk, barely able to stand. You weren’t much of a drinker—but she insisted. “Just one more! For me!”

The rest blurred.

Your friends tried their best to bring you home, but when they couldn’t find your keys, they left you gently slumped against your front door, asleep and mumbling nonsense.

That’s when Liam stepped outside.

He paused, eyes narrowing as he spotted you—disheveled, sleeping on cold concrete under the dim porch light. A frown tugged at his lips. “Seriously?” he muttered, kneeling beside you.

You didn’t stir when he shook your shoulder.

He sighed, glanced around, and without hesitation, scooped you into his arms—cradling you like you weighed nothing. Your head fell against his chest, breathing steady, unaware of the man holding you.

He carried you inside his sleek, dimly lit apartment next door, placing you gently onto his bed. Pulling a blanket over your body, he stood there for a moment, watching your sleeping face soften under the warm light.

“I should’ve ignored you,” he whispered to himself, brushing a loose strand of hair from your cheek. “But damn it, I never could.”

Then he turned, left the room, and sat quietly in the living room—his phone buzzing with a message from the underworld.

But tonight?

The mafia could wait.

Because you were sleeping in his bed. And for once, the shadows felt a little lighter.