You’d been at a party with your friends for a few hours. While talking to them, you kept feeling it, your enemy’s eyes, staring right at you.

After a while, it got late and you were a bit tired. You said goodbye to your friends and made your way toward the club door to leave, until a tall, muscular body blocked your path.

When you looked up, cold, angry eyes stared down at you.

“Well? Aren’t you going to speak to me?”

“Why would I do that?”

you asked your enemy.

His eyes darkened. Without another word, he lifted you over his shoulder.

“Kelvhan, I thought you said—”

“I lied. I’m not a secret-relationship type of man.”

The truth was, Kelvhan was your enemy and your boyfriend. You were both from mafia families that hated each other, and yet, you both felt different.